LETTER XLVII.
CHARLES to WILLIAM.
We have had a tedious journey, dear William. Foolish ignorant people would say it foreboded no good; but we have been better instructed, and have not been allowed to catch those weak prejudices, which, my tutor says, produce more than half the ills of life; and are a greater weight on the spirits, than the real unavoidable evils.
Well, now for a full and true account of all our disasters. When we came to the second stage, we could not get fresh horses; and those we had were scarcely able to drag the chaise. One lagged, and the other very unwillingly tried to get into its old pace; yet, though any human creature, I should have thought, would have pitied them, the postilion gave them lash after lash, till my patience was quite exhausted, and I remonstrated with him: indeed the strokes went to my heart; and I felt as if I had rather have called the horse my brother, than the wretch who treated him with such barbarity, who, whistling, turned his unmoved face to me, while he smacked his whip. I soon perceived that the harness had galled one of the horses; well might it winch, poor wretch!—at last it tottered, and fell. The postilion again began to use his whip; but we interposed; I could not help asking him if he had any bowels? He stared at me, and said, fine talking, it is only rust, it must be beat out of him. Ah! my dear friend, of what use is a good education? this man seemed so thoughtless, as not even to know he was cruel: my anger was turned into compassion.
We waited a short time, but we soon found the horses could not draw us to the next stage. There was no remedy or alternative, we must walk till we could meet with a house, or remain in the chaise till Harry could bring another. Dr. Bartlett determined to walk, though it was a very wet evening, and to leave Harry not only to take care of the luggage, but to prevent the postilion from exercising wanton cruelty on the fallen beast. We walked in the rain, along a very bad road; but I should not have minded these trifling inconveniences, if Dr. Bartlett had not been exposed to them—it was far better than hearing the lashes resound on the horse’s side; and seeing the look of patient anguish, which the poor animal cast on the driver—indeed I cannot forget it.
We hastened forward; but the rain was so heavy, we were wet through before we reached a little farm on a common. This little abode, stolen from the waste, said my tutor, will afford us a shelter. A cheerful light, which darted through a window, no shutter guarded, seemed to invite us to house ourselves, and we knocked with our sticks against the door; it was quickly opened, and a venerable old man, bending beneath a weight of years, desired us to enter, and in the chimney corner we saw an old woman, sitting near the blazing hearth, whose light had attracted us; and a girl was preparing some cabbages for their supper. We mentioned our accident to account for our intrusion, and while we were speaking the old woman stirred the fire and desired us to approach and dry ourselves. We did so.—What a refreshment! Never, no never did I find the fire so comfortable as at that moment. What a blessing it is, thought I, that there is so much fewel—and what must those suffer, who, wet and numbed, cannot procure a fire to dry their rags, or warm their shivering limbs; I now feel for them more than ever. I looked at the inside of the cottage with some attention; what a difference there is between it and our elegant house, thought I, and yet the old couple seem to be bent by years not care. The rich have luxury and listlessness, the poor labour and repose, whispered the Doctor, when I mentioned to him the doubts which were struggling in my mind; God is still the Father of us all, and provides for all his numerous family.
Gentlemen, said the old man, though I cannot give you much good cheer, you are welcome to what I have. My daughter will fry some bacon and eggs, to help out the cabbage, and I believe I can find a bottle of strong beer.—What say you, Dame, is there not one saved for Christmas? We must bring it out of its hiding place for the gentlemen; for after being wet they will want something to comfort their hearts. And our bed too is at your service. Dr. Bartlett refused the bed, because he would not put them to any inconvenience; but they insisted on it, and said, they could sleep in the loft, in their daughter’s bed, who would not matter lying on the floor one night; and for matter of that, said the old man, I should not mind doing so one night myself.
Whilst the cloth was laying, and the girl was a long time placing two knives and forks and a broken saltcellar, we got into conversation, and the Doctor observing she did not put any more on the table, told his host, we must all sup together, and drink sociably the Christmas ale. If you desire it, master, replied he, it shall be done, for though you be pretty spoken gentlemen, I thought, mayhap, you might be too proud to eat with poor folks; no offence, I hope, if I speaks my mind:—Old John is fond of plain-dealing, when there is neither sin nor shame in it.—The old woman gave his sleeve a pull; she thought she understood good-breeding, for she had been several times in ’Squire Anderson’s kitchen, and madam’s own woman had spoken to her. The supper stopped our mouths, and a friendly one it was, I never eat any thing with such an appetite—I believe the bacon and eggs were remarkably good. I did not want a variety of dishes to coax my palate, I assure you.
The ale made John talk, and tell us many droll stories, nor could dame stop him, though she trod on his toes, and winked significantly. The strong beer gave him courage to laugh at the good-breeding she had acquired in the ’Squire’s kitchen, and even to mimick the fine words Mrs. Betty, madam’s own maid, used to bring out, when she condescended to speak to the vermin; for she despised low life, and never demeaned herself. The old woman was half angry; but, yet, she was glad to let us hear how she had been honoured. And, conscious she knew better than her husband, hoped as how we would not be affronted, as John had a honest heart, and meant not to disparage any body, for all he was so fond of joking.
We then heard the chaise moving slowly; we spoke to Harry, and desired him to bring us another next morning, and went to bed. The bed was hard, yet I slept so soundly Dr. Bartlett had some difficulty to wake me, when Harry arrived.
We took leave of John and his dame, and the latter made her best curtsy, though it was into the mud at the door of the hut, when Dr. Bartlett gave them a guinea, and I promised to send them a side of bacon, and a few bottles of strong beer, before Christmas.
I will write soon again. Farewel.
CHARLES.