by T. Smollett
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
IN WHICH THE CLOUDS THAT COVER THE CATASTROPHE BEGIN TO DISPERSE.
We must now leave Captain Crowe and his nephew Mr. Clarke, arguing withgreat vehemence about the fatal intelligence obtained from the conjurer,and penetrate at once the veil that concealed our hero. Know then,reader, that Sir Launcelot Greaves, repairing to the place described inthe billet which he had received, was accosted by a person muffled in acloak, who began to amuse him with a feigned story of Aurelia, to which,while he listened with great attention, he found himself suddenlysurrounded by armed men, who seized and pinioned down his arms, took awayhis sword, and conveyed him by force into a hackney-coach provided forthe purpose. In vain he expostulated on this violence with three personswho accompanied him in the vehicle. He could not extort one word by wayof reply; and, from their gloomy aspects, he began to be apprehensive ofassassination. Had the carriage passed through any frequented place, hewould have endeavoured to alarm the inhabitants, but it was already clearof the town, and his conductors took care to avoid all villages andinhabited houses.
After having travelled about two miles, the coach stopped at a large irongate, which being opened, our adventurer was led in silence through aspacious house into a tolerably decent apartment, which he understood wasintended for his bed-chamber. In a few minutes after his arrival, he wasvisited by a man of no very prepossessing appearance, who endeavouring tosmooth his countenance, which was naturally stern, welcomed ouradventurer to his house; exhorted him to be of good cheer, assuring himhe should want for nothing, and desired to know what he would choose forsupper.
Sir Launcelot, in answer to this civil address, begged he would explainthe nature of his confinement, and the reasons for which his arms weretied like those of the worst malefactor. The other postponed tillto-morrow the explanation he demanded, but in the meantime unbound hisfetters, and, as he declined eating, left him alone to his repose. Hetook care, however, in retiring, to double lock the door of the room,whose windows were grated on the outside with iron.
The knight, being thus abandoned to his own meditations, began toruminate on the present adventure with equal surprise and concern; butthe more he revolved circumstances, the more was he perplexed in hisconjectures. According to the state of the mind, a very subtlephilosopher is often puzzled by a very plain proposition; and this wasthe case of our adventurer.--What made the strongest impression upon hismind was a notion that he was apprehended on suspicion of treasonablepractices, by a warrant from the Secretary of State, in consequence ofsome false malicious information; and that his prison was no other thanthe house of a messenger, set apart for the accommodation of suspectedpersons. In this opinion he comforted himself by recollecting his ownconscious innocence, and reflecting that he should be entitled to theprivilege of habeas corpus, as the act including that inestimable jewelwas happily not suspended at this time.
Consoled by this self-assurance, he quietly resigned himself to slumber;but before he fell asleep, he was very disagreeably undeceived in hisconjecture. His ears were all at once saluted with a noise from the nextroom, conveyed in distinct bounces against the wainscot; then a hoarsevoice exclaimed, "Bring up the artillery--let Brutandorf's brigadeadvance--detach my black hussars to ravage the country--let them be newbooted--take particular care of the spur-leathers--make a desert ofLusatia--bombard the suburbs of Pera--go, tell my brother Henry to passthe Elbe at Meissen with forty battalions and fifty squadrons--so ho, youMajor-General Donder, why don't you finish your second parallel?--sendhither the engineer Shittenback--I'll lay all the shoes in my shop, thebreach will be practicable in four-and-twenty hours--don't tell me ofyour works; you and your works be d--n'd."
"Assuredly," cried another voice from a different quarter, "he thatthinks to be saved by works is in a state of utter reprobation--I myselfwas a profane weaver, and trusted to the rottenness of works--I kept myjourneymen and 'prentices at constant work, and my heart was set upon theriches of this world, which was a wicked work--but now I have got aglimpse of the new light--I feel the operations of grace--I am of the newbirth--I abhor good works--I detest all working but the working of theSpirit--avaunt, Satan--O! how I thirst for communication with our sisterJolly."
"The communication is already open with the Marche," said the first, "butas for thee, thou caitiff, who hast presumed to disparage my works, I'llhave thee rammed into a mortar with a double charge of powder, and throwninto the enemy's quarters."
This dialogue operated like a train upon many other inhabitants of theplace; one swore he was within three vibrations of finding the longitude,when this noise confounded his calculation; a second, in broken English,complained he vas distorped in the moment of de proshection; a third, inthe character of His Holiness, denounced interdiction, excommunication,and anathemas; and swore by St. Peter's keys, they should howl tenthousand years in purgatory, without the benefit of a single mass. Afourth began to halloo in all the vociferation of a fox-hunter in thechase; and in an instant the whole house was in an uproar.
The clamour, however, was of a short duration. The different chambersbeing opened successively, every individual was effectually silenced bythe sound of one cabalistical word, which was no other than Waistcoat. Acharm which at once cowed the King of P----, dispossessed the fanatic,dumbfounded the mathematician, dismayed the alchemist, deposed the Pope,and deprived the squire of all utterance.
Our adventurer was no longer in doubt concerning the place to which hehad been conveyed; and the more he reflected on his situation, the morehe was overwhelmed with the most perplexing chagrin. He could notconceive by whose means he had been immured in a madhouse; but heheartily repented of his knight-errantry, as a frolic which might havevery serious consequences, with respect to his future life and fortune.After mature deliberation, he resolved to demean himself with the utmostcircumspection, well knowing that every violent transport would beinterpreted into an undeniable symptom of insanity. He was not withouthope of being able to move his jailor by a due administration of thatwhich is generally more efficacious than all the flowers of elocution;but when he rose in the morning, he found his pockets had been carefullyexamined, and emptied of all his papers and cash.
The keeper entering, he inquired about these particulars, and was givento understand, that they were all safe deposited for his use, to beforthcoming at a proper season. But, at present, as he should wantnothing, he had no occasion for money. The knight acquiesced in thisdeclaration, and eat his breakfast in quiet.
About eleven, he received a visit from the physician, who contemplatedhis looks with great solemnity; and having examined his pulse, shookhis head, saying, "Well, sir, how d'ye do?--come, don't be dejected--everything is for the best--you are in very good hands, sir, I assureyou; and I dare say will refuse nothing that may be thought conducive tothe recovery of your health."
"Doctor," said our hero, "if it is not an improper question to ask, Ishould be glad to know your opinion of my disorder."--"Oh! sir, as tothat," replied the physician, "your disorder is a--kind of a--sir, 'tisvery common in this country--a sort of a"----"Do you think my distemperis madness, doctor?"--"O Lord, sir,--not absolute madness--no--notmadness--you have heard, no doubt, of what is called a weakness of thenerves, sir,--though that is a very inaccurate expression; for thisphrase, denoting a morbid excess of sensation, seems to imply thatsensation itself is owing to the loose cohesion of those materialparticles which constitute the nervous substance, inasmuch as thequantity of every effect must be proportionable to its cause; now you'llplease to take notice, sir, if the case were really what these words seemto import, all bodies, whose particles do not cohere with too great adegree of proximity, would be nervous; that is, endued with sensation.Sir, I shall order some cooling things to keep you in due temperature;and you'll do very well--sir, your humble servant."
So saying, he retired, and our adventurer could not but think it was veryhard that one man should not dare to ask the most ordinary questionwithout being repute
d mad, while another should talk nonsense by thehour, and yet be esteemed as an oracle.
The master of the house finding Sir Launcelot so tame and tractable,indulged him after dinner with a walk in a little private garden, underthe eye of a servant who followed him at a distance. Here he was salutedby a brother-prisoner, a man seemingly turned of thirty, tall and thin,with staring eyes, a hook-nose, and a face covered with pimples.
The usual compliments having passed, the stranger, without furtherceremony, asked him if he would oblige him with a chew of tobacco, orcould spare him a mouthful of any sort of cordial, declaring he had nottasted brandy since he came to the house. The knight assured him it wasnot in his power to comply with his request; and began to ask somequestions relating to the character of their landlord, which the strangerrepresented in very unfavourable colours. He described him as a ruffian,capable of undertaking the darkest scenes of villany. He said his housewas a repository of the most flagrant iniquities. That it containedfathers kidnapped by their children, wives confined by their husbands,gentlemen of fortune sequestered by their relations, and innocent personsimmured by the malice of their adversaries. He affirmed this was his owncase; and asked if our hero had never heard of Dick Distich, the poet andsatirist. "Ben Bullock and I," said he, "were confident against theworld in arms--did you never see his ode to me beginning with 'Fairblooming youth'? We were sworn brothers, admired and praised, and quotedeach other, sir. We denounced war against all the world, actors,authors, and critics; and having drawn the sword, threw away thescabbard--we pushed through thick and thin, hacked and hewed helterskelter, and became as formidable to the writers of the age as theBoeotian band of Thebes. My friend Bullock, indeed, was once rolled inthe kennel; but soon
He vig'rous rose, and from th' effluvia strong Imbib'd new life, and scour'd and stunk along.
"Here is a satire, which I wrote in an alehouse when I was drunk--I canprove it by the evidence of the landlord and his wife; I fancy you'll ownI have some right to say with my friend Horace,
Qui me commorit, (melius non tangere clamo,) Flebit, et insignis tota cantabitur urbe."
The knight, having perused the papers, declared his opinion that theverses were tolerably good; but at the same time observed that the authorhad reviled as ignorant dunces several persons who had writ withreputation, and were generally allowed to have genius; a circumstancethat would detract more from his candour than could be allowed to hiscapacity.
"D--n their genius!" cried the satirist, "a pack of impertinent rascals!I tell you, sir, Ben Bullock and I had determined to crush all that werenot of our own party. Besides, I said before, this piece was written indrink."--"Was you drunk too when it was printed and published?"--"Yes,the printer shall make affidavit that I was never otherwise than drunk ormaudlin, till my enemies, on pretence that my brain was turned, conveyedme to this infernal mansion"--
"They seem to have been your best friends," said the knight, "and haveput the most tender interpretation on your conduct; for, waiving the pleaof insanity, your character must stand as that of a man who hath somesmall share of genius, without an atom of integrity. Of all those whomPope lashed in his Dunciad, there was not one who did not richly deservethe imputation of dulness, and every one of them had provoked thesatirist by a personal attack. In this respect the English poet was muchmore honest than his French pattern Boileau, who stigmatised several menof acknowledged genius; such as Quinault, Perrault, and the celebratedLulli; for which reason every man of a liberal turn must, in spite of allhis poetical merit, despise him as a rancorous knave. If thisdisingenuous conduct cannot be forgiven in a writer of his superiorgenius, who will pardon it in you whose name is not half emerged fromobscurity?"
"Hark ye, friend," replied the bard, "keep your pardon and your counselfor those who ask it; or, if you will force them upon people, take onepiece of advice in return. If you don't like your present situation,apply for a committee without delay. They'll find you too much of a foolto have the least tincture of madness; and you'll be released withoutfurther scruple. In that case I shall rejoice in your deliverance; youwill be freed from confinement, and I shall be happily deprived of yourconversation."
So saying, he flew off at a tangent, and our knight could not helpsmiling at the peculiar virulence of his disposition. Sir Launcelot thenendeavoured to enter into conversation with his attendant, by asking howlong Mr. Distich had resided in the house; but he might as well haveaddressed himself to a Turkish mute. The fellow either pretendedignorance, or refused an answer to every question that was proposed. Hewould not even disclose the name of his landlord, nor inform himwhereabouts the house was situated.
Finding himself agitated with impatience and indignation, he returned tohis apartment, and the door being locked upon him, began to review, notwithout horror, the particulars of his fate. "How little reason," saidhe to himself, "have we to boast of the blessings enjoyed by the Britishsubject, if he holds them on such a precarious tenure; if a man of rankand property may be thus kidnapped even in the midst of the capital; ifhe may be seized by ruffians, insulted, robbed, and conveyed to such aprison as this, from which there seems to be no possibility of escape!Should I be indulged with pen, ink, and paper, and appeal to myrelations, or to the magistrates of my country, my letters would beintercepted by those who superintend my confinement. Should I try toalarm the neighbourhood, my cries would be neglected as those of someunhappy lunatic under necessary correction. Should I employ the forcewhich Heaven has lent me, I might imbrue my hands in blood, and after allfind it impossible to escape through a number of successive doors, locks,bolts, and sentinels. Should I endeavour to tamper with the servant, hemight discover my design, and then I should be abridged of the littlecomfort I enjoy. People may inveigh against the Bastile in France, andthe Inquisition in Portugal; but I would ask, if either of these be inreality so dangerous or dreadful as a private madhouse in England, underthe direction of a ruffian? The Bastile is a state prison, theInquisition is a spiritual tribunal; but both are under the direction ofgovernment. It seldom, if ever, happens that a man entirely innocent isconfined in either; or, if he should, he lays his account with a legaltrial before established judges. But, in England, the most innocentperson upon earth is liable to be immured for life under the pretext oflunacy, sequestered from his wife, children, and friends, robbed of hisfortune, deprived even of necessaries, and subjected to the most brutaltreatment from a low-bred barbarian, who raises an ample fortune on themisery of his fellow-creatures, and may, during his whole life, practisethis horrid oppression, without question or control."
This uncomfortable reverie was interrupted by a very unexpected soundthat seemed to issue from the other side of a thick party-wall. It was astrain of vocal music, more plaintive than the widowed turtle's moan,more sweet and ravishing than Philomel's love-warbled song. Through hisear it instantly pierced into his heart; for at once he recognised it tobe the voice of his adored Aurelia. Heavens! what was the agitation ofhis soul, when he made this discovery! how did every nerve quiver! howdid his heart throb with the most violent emotion! he ran round the roomin distraction, foaming like a lion in the toil--then he placed his earclose to the partition, and listened as if his whole soul was exerted inhis sense of hearing. When the sound ceased to vibrate on his ear, hethrew himself on the bed; he groaned with anguish, he exclaimed in brokenaccents; and in all probability his heart would have burst, had not theviolence of his sorrow found vent in a flood of tears.
These first transports were succeeded by a fit of impatience, which hadwell-nigh deprived him of his senses in good earnest. His surprise atfinding his lost Aurelia in such a place, the seeming impossibility ofrelieving her, and his unspeakable eagerness to contrive some scheme forprofiting by the interesting discovery he had made, concurred in brewingup a second ecstasy, during which he acted a thousand extravagances,which it was well for him the attendants did not observe. Perhaps it waswell for the servant that he did not enter while
the paroxysm prevailed.Had this been the case, he might have met with the fate of Lichas, whomHercules in his frenzy destroyed.
Before the cloth was laid for supper, he was calm enough to conceal thedisorder of his mind. But he complained of the headache, and desired hemight be next day visited by the physician, to whom he resolved toexplain himself in such a manner, as should make an impression upon him,provided he was not altogether destitute of conscience and humanity.