The History of the Adventures of Joseph Andrews and his Friend, Mr. Abraham Abrams/Book II, Chapter V

CHAPTER V.

_A dreadful quarrel which happened at the Inn where the company dined,

with its bloody consequences to Mr Adams._

As soon as the passengers had alighted from the coach, Mr Adams, as was

his custom, made directly to the kitchen, where he found Joseph sitting

by the fire, and the hostess anointing his leg; for the horse which Mr

Adams had borrowed of his clerk had so violent a propensity to kneeling,

that one would have thought it had been his trade, as well as his

master's; nor would he always give any notice of such his intention; he

was often found on his knees when the rider least expected it. This

foible, however, was of no great inconvenience to the parson, who was

accustomed to it; and, as his legs almost touched the ground when he

bestrode the beast, had but a little way to fall, and threw himself

forward on such occasions with so much dexterity that he never received

any mischief; the horse and he frequently rolling many paces' distance,

and afterwards both getting up and meeting as good friends as ever.

Poor Joseph, who had not been used to such kind of cattle, though an

excellent horseman, did not so happily disengage himself; but, falling

with his leg under the beast, received a violent contusion, to which the

good woman was, as we have said, applying a warm hand, with some

camphorated spirits, just at the time when the parson entered

the kitchen.

He had scarce expressed his concern for Joseph's misfortune before the

host likewise entered. He was by no means of Mr Tow-wouse's gentle

disposition; and was, indeed, perfect master of his house, and

everything in it but his guests.

This surly fellow, who always proportioned his respect to the appearance

of a traveller, from "God bless your honour," down to plain "Coming

presently," observing his wife on her knees to a footman, cried out,

without considering his circumstances, "What a pox is the woman about?

why don't you mind the company in the coach? Go and ask them what they

will have for dinner." "My dear," says she, "you know they can have

nothing but what is at the fire, which will be ready presently; and

really the poor young man's leg is very much bruised." At which words

she fell to chafing more violently than before: the bell then happening

to ring, he damn'd his wife, and bid her go in to the company, and not

stand rubbing there all day, for he did not believe the young fellow's

leg was so bad as he pretended; and if it was, within twenty miles he

would find a surgeon to cut it off. Upon these words, Adams fetched two

strides across the room; and snapping his fingers over his head,

muttered aloud, He would excommunicate such a wretch for a farthing, for

he believed the devil had more humanity. These words occasioned a

dialogue between Adams and the host, in which there were two or three

sharp replies, till Joseph bad the latter know how to behave himself to

his betters. At which the host (having first strictly surveyed Adams)

scornfully repeating the word "betters," flew into a rage, and, telling

Joseph he was as able to walk out of his house as he had been to walk

into it, offered to lay violent hands on him; which perceiving, Adams

dealt him so sound a compliment over his face with his fist, that the

blood immediately gushed out of his nose in a stream. The host, being

unwilling to be outdone in courtesy, especially by a person of Adams's

figure, returned the favour with so much gratitude, that the parson's

nostrils began to look a little redder than usual. Upon which he again

assailed his antagonist, and with another stroke laid him sprawling on

the floor.

The hostess, who was a better wife than so surly a husband deserved,

seeing her husband all bloody and stretched along, hastened presently to

his assistance, or rather to revenge the blow, which, to all appearance,

was the last he would ever receive; when, lo! a pan full of hog's blood,

which unluckily stood on the dresser, presented itself first to her

hands. She seized it in her fury, and without any reflection, discharged

it into the parson's face; and with so good an aim, that much the

greater part first saluted his countenance, and trickled thence in so

large a current down to his beard, and over his garments, that a more

horrible spectacle was hardly to be seen, or even imagined. All which

was perceived by Mrs Slipslop, who entered the kitchen at that instant.

This good gentlewoman, not being of a temper so extremely cool and

patient as perhaps was required to ask many questions on this occasion,

flew with great impetuosity at the hostess's cap, which, together with

some of her hair, she plucked from her head in a moment, giving her, at

the same time, several hearty cuffs in the face; which by frequent

practice on the inferior servants, she had learned an excellent knack of

delivering with a good grace. Poor Joseph could hardly rise from his

chair; the parson was employed in wiping the blood from his eyes, which

had entirely blinded him; and the landlord was but just beginning to

stir; whilst Mrs Slipslop, holding down the landlady's face with her

left hand, made so dexterous an use of her right, that the poor woman

began to roar, in a key which alarmed all the company in the inn.

There happened to be in the inn, at this time, besides the ladies who

arrived in the stage-coach, the two gentlemen who were present at Mr

Tow-wouse's when Joseph was detained for his horse's meat, and whom we

have before mentioned to have stopt at the alehouse with Adams. There

was likewise a gentleman just returned from his travels to Italy; all

whom the horrid outcry of murder presently brought into the kitchen,

where the several combatants were found in the postures already

described.

It was now no difficulty to put an end to the fray, the conquerors being

satisfied with the vengeance they had taken, and the conquered having no

appetite to renew the fight. The principal figure, and which engaged the

eyes of all, was Adams, who was all over covered with blood, which the

whole company concluded to be his own, and consequently imagined him no

longer for this world. But the host, who had now recovered from his

blow, and was risen from the ground, soon delivered them from this

apprehension, by damning his wife for wasting the hog's puddings, and

telling her all would have been very well if she had not intermeddled,

like a b--as she was; adding, he was very glad the gentlewoman had paid

her, though not half what she deserved. The poor woman had indeed fared

much the worst; having, besides the unmerciful cuffs received, lost a

quantity of hair, which Mrs Slipslop in triumph held in her left hand.

The traveller, addressing himself to Mrs Grave-airs, desired her not to

be frightened; for here had been only a little boxing, which he said, to

their _disgracia_, the English were _accustomata_ to: adding, it must

be, however, a sight somewhat strange to him, who was just come from

Italy; the Italians not being addicted to the _cuffardo_ but _bastonza_,

says he. He then went up to Adams, and telling him he looked like the

ghost of Othello, bid him not shake his gory locks at him, for he could

not say he did it. Adams very innocently answered, "Sir, I am far from

accusing you." He then returned to the lady, and cried, "I find the

bloody gentleman is _uno insipido del nullo senso_. _Dammato di me_, if

I have seen such a _spectaculo_ in my way from Viterbo."

One of the gentlemen having learnt from the host the occasion of this

bustle, and being assured by him that Adams had struck the first blow,

whispered in his ear, "He'd warrant he would recover."--"Recover!

master," said the host, smiling: "yes, yes, I am not afraid of dying

with a blow or two neither; I am not such a chicken as that."--"Pugh!"

said the gentleman, "I mean you will recover damages in that action

which, undoubtedly, you intend to bring, as soon as a writ can be

returned from London; for you look like a man of too much spirit and

courage to suffer any one to beat you without bringing your action

against him: he must be a scandalous fellow indeed who would put up with

a drubbing whilst the law is open to revenge it; besides, he hath drawn

blood from you, and spoiled your coat; and the jury will give damages

for that too. An excellent new coat upon my word; and now not worth a

shilling! I don't care," continued he, "to intermeddle in these cases;

but you have a right to my evidence; and if I am sworn, I must speak the

truth. I saw you sprawling on the floor, and blood gushing from your

nostrils. You may take your own opinion; but was I in your

circumstances, every drop of my blood should convey an ounce of gold

into my pocket: remember I don't advise you to go to law; but if your

jury were Christians, they must give swinging damages. That's

all."--"Master," cried the host, scratching his head, "I have no stomach

to law, I thank you. I have seen enough of that in the parish, where two

of my neighbours have been at law about a house, till they have both

lawed themselves into a gaol." At which words he turned about, and began

to inquire again after his hog's puddings; nor would it probably have

been a sufficient excuse for his wife, that she spilt them in his

defence, had not some awe of the company, especially of the Italian

traveller, who was a person of great dignity, withheld his rage.

Whilst one of the above-mentioned gentlemen was employed, as we have

seen him, on the behalf of the landlord, the other was no less hearty on

the side of Mr Adams, whom he advised to bring his action immediately.

He said the assault of the wife was in law the assault of the husband,

for they were but one person; and he was liable to pay damages, which he

said must be considerable, where so bloody a disposition appeared. Adams

answered, If it was true that they were but one person, he had assaulted

the wife; for he was sorry to own he had struck the husband the first

blow. "I am sorry you own it too," cries the gentleman; "for it could

not possibly appear to the court; for here was no evidence present but

the lame man in the chair, whom I suppose to be your friend, and would

consequently say nothing but what made for you."--"How, sir," says

Adams, "do you take me for a villain, who would prosecute revenge in

cold blood, and use unjustifiable means to obtain it? If you knew me,

and my order, I should think you affronted both." At the word order, the

gentleman stared (for he was too bloody to be of any modern order of

knights); and, turning hastily about, said, "Every man knew his own

business."

Matters being now composed, the company retired to their several

apartments; the two gentlemen congratulating each other on the success

of their good offices in procuring a perfect reconciliation between the

contending parties; and the traveller went to his repast, crying, "As

the Italian poet says--

   '_Je voi_ very well _que tutta e pace_,

   So send up dinner, good Boniface.'"

The coachman began now to grow importunate with his passengers, whose

entrance into the coach was retarded by Miss Grave-airs insisting,

against the remonstrance of all the rest, that she would not admit a

footman into the coach; for poor Joseph was too lame to mount a horse. A

young lady, who was, as it seems, an earl's grand-daughter, begged it

with almost tears in her eyes. Mr Adams prayed, and Mrs Slipslop

scolded; but all to no purpose. She said, "She would not demean herself

to ride with a footman: that there were waggons on the road: that if the

master of the coach desired it, she would pay for two places; but would

suffer no such fellow to come in."--"Madam," says Slipslop, "I am sure

no one can refuse another coming into a stage-coach."--"I don't know,

madam," says the lady; "I am not much used to stage-coaches; I seldom

travel in them."--"That may be, madam," replied Slipslop; "very good

people do; and some people's betters, for aught I know." Miss Grave-airs

said, "Some folks might sometimes give their tongues a liberty, to some

people that were their betters, which did not become them; for her part,

she was not used to converse with servants." Slipslop returned, "Some

people kept no servants to converse with; for her part, she thanked

Heaven she lived in a family where there were a great many, and had more

under her own command than any paultry little gentlewoman in the

kingdom." Miss Grave-airs cried, "She believed her mistress would not

encourage such sauciness to her betters."--"My betters," says Slipslop,

"who is my betters, pray?"--"I am your betters," answered Miss

Grave-airs, "and I'll acquaint your mistress."--At which Mrs Slipslop

laughed aloud, and told her, "Her lady was one of the great gentry; and

such little paultry gentlewomen as some folks, who travelled in

stagecoaches, would not easily come at her."

This smart dialogue between some people and some folks was going on at

the coach door when a solemn person, riding into the inn, and seeing

Miss Grave-airs, immediately accosted her with "Dear child, how do you?"

She presently answered, "O papa, I am glad you have overtaken me."--"So

am I," answered he; "for one of our coaches is just at hand; and, there

being room for you in it, you shall go no farther in the stage unless

you desire it."--"How can you imagine I should desire it?" says she; so,

bidding Slipslop ride with her fellow, if she pleased, she took her

father by the hand, who was just alighted, and walked with him into

a room.

Adams instantly asked the coachman, in a whisper, "If he knew who the

gentleman was?" The coachman answered, "He was now a gentleman, and kept

his horse and man; but times are altered, master," said be; "I remember

when he was no better born than myself."--"Ay! ay!" says Adams. "My

father drove the squire's coach," answered he, "when that very man rode

postillion; but he is now his steward; and a great gentleman." Adams

then snapped his fingers, and cried, "He thought she was some

such trollop."

Adams made haste to acquaint Mrs Slipslop with this good news, as he

imagined it; but it found a reception different from what he expected.

The prudent gentlewoman, who despised the anger of Miss Grave-airs

whilst she conceived her the daughter of a gentleman of small fortune,

now she heard her alliance with the upper servants of a great family in

her neighbourhood, began to fear her interest with the mistress. She

wished she had not carried the dispute so far, and began to think of

endeavouring to reconcile herself to the young lady before she left the

inn; when, luckily, the scene at London, which the reader can scarce

have forgotten, presented itself to her mind, and comforted her with

such assurance, that she no longer apprehended any enemy with

her mistress.

Everything being now adjusted, the company entered the coach, which was

just on its departure, when one lady recollected she had left her fan, a

second her gloves, a third a snuff-box, and a fourth a smelling-bottle

behind her; to find all which occasioned some delay and much swearing to

the coachman.

As soon as the coach had left the inn, the women all together fell to

the character of Miss Grave-airs; whom one of them declared she had

suspected to be some low creature, from the beginning of their journey,

and another affirmed she had not even the looks of a gentlewoman: a

third warranted she was no better than she should be; and, turning to

the lady who had related the story in the coach, said, "Did you ever

hear, madam, anything so prudish as her remarks? Well, deliver me from

the censoriousness of such a prude." The fourth added, "O madam! all

these creatures are censorious; but for my part, I wonder where the

wretch was bred; indeed, I must own I have seldom conversed with these

mean kind of people, so that it may appear stranger to me; but to refuse

the general desire of a whole company had something in it so

astonishing, that, for my part, I own I should hardly believe it if my

own ears had not been witnesses to it."--"Yes, and so handsome a young

fellow," cries Slipslop; "the woman must have no compulsion in her: I

believe she is more of a Turk than a Christian; I am certain, if she had

any Christian woman's blood in her veins, the sight of such a young

fellow must have warmed it. Indeed, there are some wretched, miserable

old objects, that turn one's stomach; I should not wonder if she had

refused such a one; I am as nice as herself, and should have cared no

more than herself for the company of stinking old fellows; but, hold up

thy head, Joseph, thou art none of those; and she who hath not

compulsion for thee is a Myhummetman, and I will maintain it." This

conversation made Joseph uneasy as well as the ladies; who, perceiving

the spirits which Mrs Slipslop was in (for indeed she was not a cup too

low), began to fear the consequence; one of them therefore desired the

lady to conclude the story. "Aye, madam," said Slipslop, "I beg your

ladyship to give us that story you commensated in the morning;" which

request that well-bred woman immediately complied with.