The Adventures of Sir Launcelot Greaves

by T. Smollett

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CONTAINING FURTHER ANECDOTES RELATING TO THE CHILDREN ON WRETCHEDNESS.

  Dinner being cheerfully discussed, and our adventurer expressing an eagerdesire to know the history of the male and female who had acted assquires or seconds to the champions of the King's Bench, Felton gratifiedhis curiosity to this effect:

  "All that I know of Captain Clewline, previous to his commitment, is,that he was a commander of a sloop of war, and bore the reputation of agallant officer; that he married the daughter of a rich merchant in thecity of London, against the inclination and without the knowledge of herfather, who renounced her for this act of disobedience; that the captainconsoled himself for the rigour of the parent, with the possession of thelady, who was not only remarkably beautiful in person, but highlyaccomplished in her mind, and amiable in her disposition. Such, a fewmonths ago, were those two persons whom you saw acting in such a vulgarcapacity. When they first entered the prison, they were undoubtedly thehandsomest couple mine eyes ever beheld, and their appearance wonuniversal respect even from the most brutal inhabitants of the jail.

  "The captain, having unwarily involved himself as a security for a man towhom he had lain under obligations, became liable for a considerable sum,and his own father-in-law being the sole creditor of the bankrupt, tookthis opportunity of wreaking vengeance upon him for having espoused hisdaughter. He watched an opportunity until the captain had actuallystepped into the post-chaise with his lady for Portsmouth, where his shiplay, and caused him to be arrested in the most public and shamefulmanner. Mrs. Clewline had like to have sunk under the first transportsof her grief and mortification; but these subsiding, she had recourse topersonal solicitation. She went with her only child in her arms, alovely boy, to her father's door, and, being denied admittance, kneeleddown in the street, imploring his compassion in the most pathetic strain;but this hard-hearted citizen, instead of recognising his child, andtaking the poor mourner to his bosom, insulted her from the window withthe most bitter reproach, saying, among other shocking expressions,'Strumpet, take yourself away with your brat, otherwise I shall send forthe beadle, and have you to Bridewell.'

  "The unfortunate lady was cut to the heart by this usage, and fainted inthe street, from whence she was conveyed to a public-house by the charityof some passengers. She afterwards attempted to soften the barbarity ofher father by repeated letters, and by interesting some of his friends tointercede with him in her behalf; but all her endeavours provingineffectual, she accompanied her husband to the prison of the King'sBench, where she must have felt, in the severest manner, the fatalreverse of circumstance to which she was exposed.

  "The captain being disabled from going to sea, was superseded, and he sawall his hopes blasted in the midst of an active war, at a time when hehad the fairest prospects of fame and fortune. He saw himself reduced toextreme poverty, cooped up with the tender partner of his heart in awretched hovel, amidst the refuse of mankind, and on the brink of wantingthe common necessaries of life. The mind of man is ever ingenious infinding resources. He comforted his lady with vain hopes of havingfriends who would effect his deliverance, and repeated assurances of thiskind so long, that he at length began to think they were not altogethervoid of foundation.

  "Mrs. Clewline, from a principle of duty, recollected all her fortitude,that she might not only bear her fate with patience, but even contributeto alleviate the woes of her husband, whom her affection had ruined. Sheaffected to believe the suggestions of his pretended hope; sheinterchanged with him assurances of better fortune; her appearanceexhibited a calm, while her heart was torn with anguish. She assistedhim in writing letters to former friends, the last consolation of thewretched prisoner; she delivered these letters with her own hand, andunderwent a thousand mortifying repulses, the most shocking circumstancesof which she concealed from her husband. She performed all the menialoffices in her own little family, which was maintained by pawning herapparel; and both the husband and wife, in some measure, sweetened theircares by prattling and toying with their charming little boy, on whomthey doated with an enthusiasm of fondness. Yet even this pleasure wasmingled with the most tender and melancholy regret. I have seen themother hang over him, with the most affecting expression of this kind inher aspect, the tears contending with the smiles upon her countenance,while she exclaimed, 'Alas! my poor prisoner, little did your mother oncethink she should be obliged to nurse you in a jail.' The captain'spaternal love was dashed with impatience; he would snatch up the boy in atransport of grief, press him to his breast, devour him as it were withkisses, throw up his eyes to heaven in the most emphatic silence, thenconvey the child hastily to his mother's arms, pull his hat over hiseyes, stalk out into the common walk, and, finding himself alone, breakout into tears and lamentation.

  "Ah! little did this unhappy couple know what further griefs awaitedthem! The smallpox broke out in the prison, and poor Tommy Clewline wasinfected. As the eruption appeared unfavourable, you may conceive theconsternation with which they were overwhelmed. Their distress wasrendered inconceivable by indigence; for by this time they were sodestitute, that they could neither pay for common attendance, nor procureproper advice. I did on that occasion what I thought my duty towards myfellow-creatures. I wrote to a physician of my acquaintance, who washumane enough to visit the poor little patient; I engaged a carefulwoman-prisoner as a nurse, and Mr. Norton supplied them with money andnecessaries. These helps were barely sufficient to preserve them fromthe horrors of despair, when they saw their little darling panting underthe rage of a loathsome pestilential malady, during the excessive heat ofthe dog-days, and struggling for breath in the noxious atmosphere of aconfined cabin, where they scarce had room to turn on the most necessaryoccasions. The eager curiosity with which the mother eyed the doctor'slooks as often as he visited the boy; the terror and trepidation of thefather, while he desired to know his opinion; in a word, the whole tenorof their distress baffled all description.

  "At length the physician, for the sake of his own character, was obligedto be explicit; and, returning with the captain to the common walk, toldhim, in my hearing, that the child could not possibly recover. Thissentence seemed to have petrified the unfortunate parent, who stoodmotionless, and seemingly bereft of sense. I led him to my apartment,where he sat a full hour in that state of stupefaction; then he began togroan hideously, a shower of tears burst from his eyes, he threw himselfon the floor, and uttered the most piteous lamentation that ever washeard. Meanwhile, Mrs. Norton being made acquainted with the doctor'sprognostic, visited Mrs. Clewline, and invited her to the lodge. Herprophetic fears immediately took the alarm. 'What!' cried she, startingup with a frantic wildness in her looks, 'then our case is desperate--Ishall lose my dear Tommy!--the poor prisoner will be released by the handof Heaven!--Death will convey him to the cold grave!' The dying innocenthearing this exclamation, pronounced these words, 'Tommy won't leave you,my dear mamma; if death comes to take Tommy, papa shall drive him awaywith his sword.' This address deprived the wretched mother of allresignation to the will of Providence. She tore her hair, dashed herselfon the pavement, shrieked aloud, and was carried off in a deplorablestate of distraction.

  "That same evening the lovely babe expired, and the father grew frantic.He made an attempt on his own life; and, being with difficultyrestrained, his agitation sunk into a kind of sullen insensibility, whichseemed to absorb all sentiment, and gradually vulgarised his faculty ofthinking. In order to dissipate the violence of his sorrow, hecontinually shifted the scene from one company to another, contractedabundance of low connexions, and drowned his cares in repeatedintoxication. The unhappy lady underwent a long series of hystericalfits and other complaints, which seemed to have a fatal effect on herbrain as well as constitution. Cordials were administered to keep up herspirits; and she found it necessary to protract the use of them to bluntthe edge of grief, by overwhelming reflection, and remove the sense ofuneasiness arising from a disorder in her stomach.
In a word, she becamean habitual dram-drinker; and this practice exposed her to suchcommunication as debauched her reason, and perverted her sense of decorumand propriety. She and her husband gave a loose to vulgar excess, inwhich they were enabled to indulge by the charity and interest of somefriends, who obtained half-pay for the captain.

  "They are now metamorphosed into the shocking creatures you have seen; heinto a riotous plebeian, and she into a ragged trull. They are bothdrunk every day, quarrel and fight one with another, and often insulttheir fellow-prisoners. Yet they are not wholly abandoned by virtue andhumanity. The captain is scrupulously honest in all his dealings, andpays off his debts punctually every quarter, as soon as he receives hishalf-pay. Every prisoner in distress is welcome to share his money whileit lasts; and his wife never fails, while it is in her power, to relievethe wretched; so that their generosity, even in this miserable disguise,is universally respected by their neighbours. Sometimes the recollectionof their former rank comes over them like a qualm, which they dispel withbrandy, and then humorously rally one another on their mutual degeneracy.She often stops me in the walk, and, pointing to the captain, says, 'Myhusband, though he is become a blackguard jail-bird, must be allowed tobe a handsome fellow still.'--On the other hand, he will frequentlydesire me to take notice of his rib, as she chances to pass.--'Mind thatdraggle-tailed drunken drab,' he will say; 'what an antidote it is--yet,for all that, Felton, she was a fine woman when I married her--Poor Bess,I have been the ruin of her, that is certain, and deserve to be d--nedfor bringing her to this pass.'

  "Thus they accommodate themselves to each other's infirmities, and passtheir time not without some taste of plebeian enjoyment--but, name theirchild, they never fail to burst into tears, and still feel a return ofthe most poignant sorrow."

  Sir Launcelot Greaves did not hear this story unmoved. Tom Clarke'scheeks were bedewed with the drops of sympathy, while, with much sobbing,he declared his opinion, that an action should lie against the lady'sfather.

  Captain Crowe having listened to the story with uncommon attention,expressed his concern that an honest seaman should be so taken in stays;but he imputed all his calamities to the wife. "For why?" said he; "aseafaring man may have a sweetheart in every port; but he should steerclear of a wife, as he would avoid a quicksand.--You see, brother, howthis here Clewline lags astern in the wake of a snivelling b---h;otherwise he would never make a weft in his ensign for the loss of achild--odds heart! he could have done no more if he had sprung atop-mast, or started a timber."

  The knight declaring that he would take another view of the prison in theafternoon, Mr. Felton insisted upon his doing him the honour to drink adish of tea in his apartment, and Sir Launcelot accepted his invitation.Thither they, accordingly repaired, after having made another circuit ofthe jail, and the tea-things were produced by Mrs. Felton, when she wassummoned to the door, and in a few minutes returning, communicatedsomething in a whisper to her husband. He changed colour, and repairedto the staircase, where he was heard to talk aloud in an angry tone.

  When he came back, he told the company he had been teased by a veryimportunate beggar. Addressing himself to our adventurer, "You tooknotice," says he, "of a fine lady flaunting about our walk in all thefrippery of the fashion. She was lately a gay young widow that made agreat figure at the court-end of the town; she distinguished herself byher splendid equipage, her rich liveries, her brilliant assemblies, hernumerous routs, and her elegant taste in dress and furniture. She isnearly related to some of the best families in England, and, it must beowned, mistress of many fine accomplishments. But being deficient intrue delicacy, she endeavoured to hide that defect by affectation. Shepretended to a thousand antipathies which did not belong to her nature.A breast of veal threw her into mortal agonies; if she saw a spider, shescreamed; and at sight of a mouse she fainted away. She could not,without horror, behold an entire joint of meat; and nothing butfricassees and other made dishes were seen upon her table. She causedall her floors to be lined with green baize, that she might trip alongthere with more ease and pleasure. Her footmen wore clogs, which weredeposited in the hall, and both they and her chairmen were laid under thestrongest injunctions to avoid porter and tobacco. Her jointure amountedto eight hundred pounds per annum, and she made shift to spend four timesthat sum. At length it was mortgaged for nearly the entire value; but,far from retrenching, she seemed to increase in extravagance, until hereffects were taken in execution, and her person here deposited in safecustody.

  "When one considers the abrupt transition she underwent from her spaciousapartments to an hovel scarce eight feet square; from sumptuous furnitureto bare benches; from magnificence to meanness; from affluence to extremepoverty; one would imagine she must have been totally overwhelmed by sucha sudden gush of misery. But this was not the case. She has, in fact,no delicate feelings. She forthwith accommodated herself to the exigencyof her fortune; yet she still affects to keep state amidst the miseriesof a jail; and this affectation is truly ridiculous. She lies a-bed tilltwo o'clock in the afternoon. She maintains a female attendant for thesole purpose of dressing her person. Her cabin is the least cleanly inthe whole prison; she has learned to eat bread and cheese and drinkporter; but she always appears once a day dressed in the pink of thefashion. She has found means to run in debt at the chandler's shop, thebaker's, and the tap-house, though there is nothing got in this place butwith ready money. She has even borrowed small sums from diversprisoners, who were themselves on the brink of starving. She takespleasure in being surrounded with duns, observing, that by such people aperson of fashion is to be distinguished. She writes circular letters toher former friends and acquaintance, and by this method has raised prettyconsiderable contributions; for she writes in a most elegant andirresistible style. About a fortnight ago she received a supply oftwenty guineas; when, instead of paying her little jail-debts, orwithdrawing any part of her apparel from pawn, she laid out the whole sumin a fashionable suit and laces; and next day borrowed of me a shillingto purchase a neck of mutton for her dinner. She seems to think her rankin life entitles her to this kind of assistance. She talks verypompously of her family and connexions, by whom however she has been longrenounced. She has no sympathy nor compassion for the distresses of herfellow-creatures; but she is perfectly well bred; she bears a repulse thebest of any woman I ever knew; and her temper has never been once ruffledsince her arrival at the King's Bench. She now entreated me to lend herhalf-a-guinea, for which she said she had the most pressing occasion, andpromised upon her honour it should be repaid to-morrow; but I lent a deafear to her request, and told her in plain terms that her honour wasalready bankrupt."

  Sir Launcelot, thrusting his hand mechanically into his pocket, pulledout a couple of guineas, and desired Felton to accommodate her with thattrifle in his own name; but he declined the proposal, and refused totouch the money. "God forbid," said he, "that I should attempt to thwartyour charitable intention; but this, my good sir, is no object--she hasmany resources. Neither should we number the clamorous beggar amongthose who really feel distress; he is generally gorged with bountymisapplied. The liberal hand of charity should be extended to modestwant that pines in silence, encountering cold, nakedness, and hunger, andevery species of distress. Here you may find the wretch of keensensations blasted by accident in the blossom of his fortune, shiveringin the solitary recess of indigence, disdaining to beg, and even ashamedto let his misery be known. Here you may see the parent who has knownhappier times, surrounded by his tender offspring, naked and forlorn,demanding food, which his circumstances cannot afford.

  "That man of decent appearance and melancholy aspect, who lifted his hatas you passed him in the yard, is a person of unblemished character. Hewas a reputable tradesman in the city, and failed through inevitablelosses. A commission of bankruptcy was taken out against him by his solecreditor, a quaker, who refused to sign his certificate. He has livedthree years in prison, with a wife and five small children. In a lit
tletime after his commitment, he had friends who offered to pay tenshillings in the pound of what he owed, and to give security for payingthe remainder in three years by instalments. The honest quaker did notcharge the bankrupt with any dishonest practices, but he rejected theproposal with the most mortifying indifference, declaring that he did notwant his money. The mother repaired to his house, and kneeling beforehim with her five lovely children, implored mercy with tears andexclamations. He stood this scene unmoved, and even seemed to enjoy theprospect, wearing the looks of complacency, while his heart was steeledwith rancour. 'Woman,' said he, 'these be hopeful babes, if they wereduly nurtured. Go thy ways in peace; I have taken my resolution.' Herfriends maintained the family for some time; but it is not in humancharity to persevere; some of them died, some of them grew unfortunate,some of them fell off, and now the poor man is reduced to the extremityof indigence, from whence he has no prospect of being retrieved. Thefourth part of what you would have bestowed upon the lady would make thispoor man and his family sing with joy."

  He had scarce pronounced these words, when our hero desired the man mightbe called, and in a few minutes he entered the apartment with a lowobeisance. "Mr. Coleby," said the knight, "I have heard how cruelly youhave been used by your creditor, and beg you will accept this triflingpresent, if it can be of any service to you in your distress." Sosaying, he put five guineas into his hand. The poor man was soconfounded at such an unlooked-for acquisition, that he stood motionlessand silent, unable to thank the donor; and Mr. Felton conveyed him to thedoor, observing that his heart was too full for utterance. But in alittle time his wife bursting into the room with her five children,looked around, and going up to Sir Launcelot without any direction,exclaimed, "This is the angel sent by Providence to succour me and mypoor innocents." Then falling at his feet, she pressed his hand andbathed it with her tears. He raised her up with that complacency whichwas natural to his disposition. He kissed all her children, who wereremarkably handsome and neatly kept, though in homely apparel; and,giving her his direction, assured her she might always apply to him inher distress.

  After her departure, he produced a bank-note of twenty pounds, and wouldhave deposited it in the hands of Mr. Felton, to be distributed incharities among the objects of the place; but he desired it might be leftwith Mr. Norton, who was the proper person for managing his benevolence,and he promised to assist the deputy with his advice in laying it out.