บทที่ บทที่ 13 · Of Sir Gervas Jerome, Knight Banneret of the County of

Surrey

The inn was very full of company, being occupied not only by many

Government agents and couriers on their way to and from the seat of

the rising, but also by all the local gossips, who gathered there to

exchange news and consume Dame Hobson the landlady’s home-brewed. In

spite, however, of this stress of custom and the consequent uproar, the

hostess conducted us into her own private room, where we could consume

her excellent cheer in peace and quietness. This favour was due, I

think, to a little sly manoeuvring and a few whispered words from Saxon,

who amongst other accomplishments which he had picked up during his

chequered career had a pleasing knack of establishing friendly relations

with the fair sex, irrespective of age, size, or character. Gentle

and simple, Church and Dissent, Whig and Tory, if they did but wear a

petticoat our comrade never failed, in spite of his fifty years, to make

his way into their good graces by the help of his voluble tongue mid

assured manner.

‘We are your grateful servants, mistress,’ said he, when the smoking

joint and the batter pudding had been placed upon the table. ‘We have

robbed you of your room. Will you not honour us so far as to sit down

with us and share our repast?’

‘Nay, kind sir,’ said the portly dame, much flattered by the proposal;

‘it is not for me to sit with gentles like yourselves.’

‘Beauty has a claim which persons of quality, and above all cavalieros

of the sword, are the first to acknowledge,’ cried Saxon, with his

little twinkling eyes fixed in admiration upon her buxom countenance.

‘Nay, by my troth, you shall not leave us. I shall lock the door first.

If you will not eat, you shall at least drink a cup of Alicant with me.’

‘Nay, sir, it is too much honour,’ cried Dame Hobson, with a simper. ‘I

shall go down into the cellars and bring a flask of the best.’

‘Nay, by my manhood, you shall not,’ said Saxon, springing up from his

seat. ‘What are all these infernal lazy drawers here for if you are to

descend to menial offices?’ Handing the widow to a chair he clanked away

into the tap-room, where we heard him swearing at the men-servants, and

cursing them for a droning set of rascals who had taken advantage of

the angelic goodness of their mistress and her incomparable sweetness of

temper.

‘Here is the wine, fair mistress,’ said he, returning presently with a

bottle in either hand. ‘Let me fill your glass. Ha! it flows clear and

yellow like a prime vintage. These rogues can stir their limbs when they

find that there is a man to command them.’

‘Would that there were ever such,’ said the widow meaningly, with a

languishing look at our companion. ‘Here is to you, sir--and to ye, too,

young sirs,’ she added, sipping at her wine. ‘May there be a speedy end

to the insurrection, for I judge, from your gallant equipment, that ye

be serving the King.’

‘His business takes us to the West,’ said Reuben, ‘and we have every

reason to hope that there will be a speedy end to the insurrection.’

‘Aye, aye, though blood will be shed first,’ she said, shaking her head.

‘They tell me that the rebels are as many as seven thousand, and that

they swear to give an’ take no quarter, the murderous villains! Alas!

how any gentleman can fall to such bloody work when he might have a

clean honourable occupation, such as innkeeping or the like, is more

than my poor mind can understand. There is a sad difference betwixt the

man who lieth on the cold ground, not knowing how long it may be before

he is three feet deep in it, and he who passeth his nights upon a warm

feather bed, with mayhap a cellar beneath it stocked with even such

wines as we are now drinking.’ She again looked hard at Saxon as she

spoke, while Reuben and I nudged each other beneath the table.

‘This business hath doubtless increased your trade, fair mistress,’

quoth Saxon.

‘Aye, and in the way that payeth best,’ said she. ‘The few kilderkins of

beer which are drunk by the common folk make little difference one way

or the other. But now, when we have lieutenants of counties, officers,

mayors, and gentry spurring it for very life down the highways, I have

sold more of my rare old wines in three days than ever I did before in

a calendar month. It is not ale, or strong waters, I promise you, that

those gentles drink, but Priniac, Languedoc, Tent, Muscadine, Chiante,

and Tokay--never a flask under the half-guinea.’

‘So indeed!’ quoth Saxon thoughtfully. ‘A snug home and a steady

income.’

‘Would that my poor Peter had lived to share it with me,’ said Dame

Hobson, laying down her glass, and rubbing her eyes with a corner of

her kerchief. ‘He was a good man, poor soul, though in very truth and

between friends he did at last become as broad and as thick as one of

his own puncheons. All well, the heart is the thing! Marry come up! if a

woman were ever to wait until her own fancy came her way, there would be

more maids than mothers in the land.’

‘Prythee, good dame, how runs your own fancy?’ asked Reuben

mischievously.

‘Not in the direction of fat, young man,’ she answered smartly, with a

merry glance at our plump companion.

‘She has hit you there, Reuben,’ said I.

‘I would have no pert young springald,’ she continued, ‘but one who hath

knowledge of the world, and ripe experience. Tall he should be, and of

sinewy build, free of speech that he might lighten the weary hours, and

help entertain the gentles when they crack a flagon of wine. Of business

habits he must be, too, forsooth, for is there not a busy hostel and two

hundred good pounds a year to pass through his fingers? If Jane Hobson

is to be led to the altar again it must be by such a man as this.’

Saxon had listened with much attention to the widow’s words, and had

just opened his mouth to make some reply to her when a clattering and

bustle outside announced the arrival of some traveller. Our

hostess drank off her wine and pricked up her ears, but when a loud

authoritative voice was heard in the passage, demanding a private room

and a draught of sack, her call to duty overcame her private concerns,

and she bustled off with a few words of apology to take the measure of

the new-comer.

‘Body o’ me, lads!’ quoth Decimus Saxon the moment that she disappeared,

‘ye can see how the land lies. I have half a mind to let Monmouth carve

his own road, and to pitch my tent in this quiet English township.’

‘Your tent, indeed!’ cried Reuben; ‘it is a brave tent that is furnished

with cellars of such wine as we are drinking. And as to the quiet, my

illustrious, if you take up your residence here I’ll warrant that the

quiet soon comes to an end.’

‘You have seen the woman,’ said Saxon, with his brow all in a wrinkle

with thought. ‘She hath much to commend her. A man must look to himself.

Two hundred pounds a year are not to be picked off the roadside every

June morning. It is not princely, but it is something for an old soldier

of fortune who hath been in the wars for five-and-thirty years, and

foresees the time when his limbs will grow stiff in his harness. What

sayeth our learned Fleming--“an mulier--” but what in the name of the

devil have we here?’

Our companion’s ejaculation was called forth by a noise as of a slight

scuffle outside the door, with a smothered ‘Oh, sir!’ and ‘What will the

maids think?’ The contest was terminated by the door being opened, and

Dame Hobson re-entering the room with her face in a glow, and a slim

young man dressed in the height of fashion at her heels.

‘I am sure, good gentlemen,’ said she, ‘that ye will not object to this

young nobleman drinking his wine in the same room with ye, since all the

others are filled with the townsfolk and commonalty.’

‘Faith! I must needs be mine own usher,’ said the stranger, sticking his

gold-laced cap under his left arm and laying his hand upon his heart,

while he bowed until his forehead nearly struck the edge of the table.

‘Your very humble servant, gentlemen, Sir Gervas Jerome, knight banneret

of his Majesty’s county of Surrey, and at one time custos rotulorum of

the district of Beacham Ford.’

‘Welcome, sir,’ quoth Reuben, with a merry twinkle in his eye. ‘You have

before you Don Decimo Saxon of the Spanish nobility, together with Sir

Micah Clarke and Sir Reuben Lockarby, both of his Majesty’s county of

Hampshire.’

‘Proud and glad to meet ye, gentlemen!’ cried the newcomer, with a

flourish. ‘But what is this upon the table? Alicant? Fie, fie, it is a

drink for boys. Let us have some good sack with plenty of body in it.

Claret for youth, say I, sack for maturity, and strong waters in old

age. Fly, my sweetest, move those dainty feet of thine, for egad! my

throat is like leather. Od’s ‘oons, I drank deep last night, and yet

it is clear that I could not have drunk enough, for I was as dry as a

concordance when I awoke.’

Saxon sat silently at the table, looking so viciously at the stranger

out of his half-closed glittering eyes that I feared that we should

have another such brawl as occurred at Salisbury, with perhaps a more

unpleasant ending. Finally, however, his ill-humour at the gallant’s

free and easy attention to our hostess spent itself in a few muttered

oaths, and he lit his long pipe, the never-failing remedy of a ruffled

spirit. As to Reuben and myself, we watched our new companion half in

wonder and half in amusement, for his appearance and manners were novel

enough to raise the interest of inexperienced youngsters like ourselves.

I have said that he was dressed in the height of fashion, and such

indeed was the impression which a glance would give. His face was thin

and aristocratic, with a well-marked nose, delicate features, and gay

careless expression. Some little paleness of the cheeks and darkness

under the eyes, the result of hard travel or dissipation, did but add a

chastening grace to his appearance. His white periwig, velvet and silver

riding coat, lavender vest and red satin knee-breeches were all of the

best style and cut, but when looked at closely, each and all of these

articles of attire bore evidence of having seen better days. Beside the

dust and stains of travel, there was a shininess or a fading of colour

here and there which scarce accorded with the costliness of their

material or the bearing of their wearer. His long riding-boots had a

gaping seam in the side of one of them, whilst his toe was pushing

its way through the end of the other. For the rest, he wore a handsome

silver-hilted rapier at his side, and had a frilled cambric shirt

somewhat the worse for wear and open at the front, as was the mode with

the gallants of those days. All the time he was speaking he mumbled a

toothpick, which together with his constant habit of pronouncing his

o’s as a’s made his conversation sound strange to our ears. (Note D

Appendix) Whilst we were noting these peculiarities he was reclining

upon Dame Hobson’s best taffatta-covered settee, tranquilly combing his

wig with a delicate ivory comb which he had taken from a small satin bag

which hung upon the right of his sword-belt.

‘Lard preserve us from country inns!’ he remarked. ‘What with the boors

that swarm in every chamber, and the want of mirrors, and jasmine water,

and other necessaries, blister me if one has not to do one’s toilet

in the common room. ‘Oons! I’d as soon travel in the land of the Great

Mogul!’

‘When you shall come to be my age, young sir,’ Saxon answered, ‘you may

know better than to decry a comfortable country hostel.’

‘Very like, sir, very like!’ the gallant answered, with a careless

laugh. ‘For all that, being mine own age, I feel the wilds of Wiltshire

and the inns of Bruton to be a sorry change after the Mall, and the fare

of Pontack’s or the Coca Tree. Ah, Lud! here comes the sack! Open it, my

pretty Hebe, and send a drawer with fresh glasses, for these gentlemen

must do me the honour of drinking with me. A pinch of snuff, sirs? Aye,

ye may well look hard at the box. A pretty little thing, sirs, from a

certain lady of title, who shall be nameless; though, if I were to say

that her title begins with a D and her name with a C, a gentleman of the

Court might hazard a guess.’

Our hostess, having brought fresh glasses, withdrew, and Decimus

Saxon soon found an opportunity for following her. Sir Gervas Jerome

continued, however, to chatter freely to Reuben and myself over

the wine, rattling along as gaily and airily as though we were old

acquaintances.

‘Sink me, if I have not frighted your comrade away!’ he remarked, ‘Or is

it possible that he hath gone on the slot of the plump widow? Methought

he looked in no very good temper when I kissed her at the door. Yet it

is a civility which I seldom refuse to anything which wears a cap. Your

friend’s appearance smacked more of Mars than of Venus, though, indeed,

those who worship the god are wont to be on good terms with the goddess.

A hardy old soldier, I should judge, from his feature and attire.’

‘One who hath seen much service abroad,’ I answered.

‘Ha! ye are lucky to ride to the wars in the company of so accomplished

a cavalier. For I presume that it is to the wars that ye are riding,

since ye are all so armed and accoutred.’

‘We are indeed bound for the West,’ I replied, with some reserve, for in

Saxon’s absence I did not care to be too loose-tongued.

‘And in what capacity?’ he persisted. ‘Will ye risk your crowns in

defence of King James’s one, or will ye strike in, hit or miss, with

these rogues of Devon and Somerset? Stop my vital breath, if I would not

as soon side with the clown as with the crown, with all due respect to

your own principles!’

‘You are a daring man,’ said I, ‘if you air your opinions thus in every

inn parlour. Dost not know that a word of what you have said, whispered

to the nearest justice of the peace, might mean your liberty, if not

your life?’

‘I don’t care the rind of a rotten orange for life or liberty either,’

cried our acquaintance, snapping his finger and thumb. ‘Burn me if

it wouldn’t be a new sensation to bandy words with some heavy-chopped

country justice, with the Popish plot still stuck in his gizzard, and

be thereafter consigned to a dungeon, like the hero in John Dryden’s

latest. I have been round-housed many a time by the watch in the old

Hawkubite days; but this would be a more dramatic matter, with high

treason, block, and axe all looming in the background.’

‘And rack and pincers for a prologue,’ said Reuben. ‘This ambition is

the strangest that I have ever heard tell of.’

‘Anything for a change,’ cried Sir Gervas, filling up a bumper. ‘Here’s

to the maid that’s next our heart, and here’s to the heart that loves

the maids! War, wine, and women, ‘twould be a dull world without them.

But you have not answered my question.’

‘Why truly, sir,’ said I, ‘frank as you have been with us, I can scarce

be equally so with you, without the permission of the gentleman who has

just left the room. He is the leader of our party. Pleasant as our short

intercourse has been, these are parlous times, and hasty confidences are

apt to lead to repentance.’

‘A Daniel come to judgment!’ cried our new acquaintance. ‘What ancient,

ancient words from so young a head! You are, I’ll warrant, five years

younger than a scatterbrain like myself, and yet you talk like the seven

wise men of Greece. Wilt take me as a valet?’

‘A valet!’ I exclaimed.

‘Aye, a valet, a man-servant. I have been waited upon so long that it is

my turn to wait now, and I would not wish a more likely master. By the

Lard! I must, in applying for a place, give an account of my character

and a list of my accomplishments. So my rascals ever did with me, though

in good truth I seldom listened to their recital. Honesty--there I

score a trick. Sober--Ananias himself could scarce say that I am

that. Trustworthy--indifferently so. Steady--hum! about as much so

as Garraway’s weathercock. Hang it, man, I am choke full of good

resolutions, but a sparkling glass or a roguish eye will deflect me, as

the mariners say of the compass. So much for my weaknesses. Now let me

see what qualifications I can produce. A steady nerve, save only when I

have my morning qualms, and a cheerful heart; I score two on that. I

can dance saraband, minuet, or corranto; fence, ride, and sing French

chansons. Good Lard! who ever heard a valet urge such accomplishments? I

can play the best game of piquet in London. So said Sir George Etherege

when I won a cool thousand off him at the Groom Parter. But that won’t

advance me much, either. What is there, then, to commend me? Why, marry,

I can brew a bowl of punch, and I can broil a devilled fowl. It is not

much, but I can do it well.’

‘Truly, good sir,’ I said, with a smile, ‘neither of these

accomplishments is like to prove of much use to us on our present

errand. You do, however, but jest, no doubt, when you talk of descending

to such a position.’

‘Not a whit! not a whit!’ he replied earnestly. ‘“To such base uses do

we come,” as Will Shakespeare has it. If you would be able to say that

you have in your service Sir Gervas Jerome, knight banneret, and sole

owner of Beacham Ford Park, with a rent-roll of four thousand good

pounds a year, he is now up for sale, and will be knocked down to the

bidder who pleases him best. Say but the word, and we’ll have another

flagon of sack to clinch the bargain.’

‘But,’ said I, ‘if you are indeed owner of this fair property, why

should you descend to so menial an occupation?’

‘The Jews, the Jews, oh most astute and yet most slow-witted master! The

ten tribes have been upon me, and I have been harried and wasted, bound,

ravished, and despoiled. Never was Agag, king of Amalek, more completely

in the hands of the chosen, and the sole difference is that they have

hewed into pieces mine estate instead of myself.’

‘Have you lost all, then?’ Reuben asked, open-eyed.

‘Why no--not all--by no means all!’ he answered, with a merry laugh; ‘I

have a gold Jacobus and a guinea or two in my purse. ‘Twill serve for

a flask or so yet. There is my silver-hilted rapier, my rings, my gold

snuff-box, and my watch by Tompion at the sign of the Three Crowns.

It was never bought under a hundred, I’ll warrant. Then there are such

relics of grandeur as you see upon my person, though they begin to

look as frail and worn as a waiting-woman’s virtue. In this bag, too,

I retain the means for preserving that niceness and elegance of person

which made me, though I say it, as well groomed a man as ever set foot

in St. James’s Park. Here are French scissors, eyebrow brush, toothpick

case, patch-box, powder-bag, comb, puff, and my pair of red-heeled

shoes. What could a man wish for more? These, with a dry throat, a

cheerful heart, and a ready hand, are my whole stock in trade.’

Reuben and I could not forbear from laughing at the curious inventory of

articles which Sir Gervas had saved from the wreck of his fortunes. He

upon seeing our mirth was so tickled at his own misfortunes, that he

laughed in a high treble key until the whole house resounded with his

merriment. ‘By the Mass,’ he cried at last, ‘I have never had so much

honest amusement out of my prosperity as hath been caused in me by my

downfall. Fill up your glasses!’

‘We have still some distance to travel this evening, and must not drink

more,’ I observed, for prudence told me that it was dangerous work for

two sober country lads to keep pace with an experienced toper.

‘So!’ said he in surprise. ‘I should have thought that would be a

“raison de plus,” as the French say. But I wish your long-legged friend

would come back, even if he were intent upon slitting my weazand for my

attention to the widow. He is not a man to flinch from his liquor, I’ll

warrant. Curse this Wiltshire dust that clings to my periwig!’

‘Until my comrade returns, Sir Gervas,’ said I, ‘you might, since the

subject does not appear to be a painful one to you, let us know how

these evil times, which you bear with such philosophy, came upon you.’

‘The old story!’ he answered, flicking away a few grains of snuff with

his deeply-laced cambric handkerchief. ‘The old, old story! My father, a

good, easy country baronet, finding the family purse somewhat full, must

needs carry me up to town to make a man of me. There as a young lad I

was presented at Court, and being a slim active youngster with a pert

tongue and assured manner, I caught the notice of the Queen, who made

me one of her pages of honour. This post I held until I grew out of

it, when I withdrew from town, but egad! I found I must get back to it

again, for Beacham Ford Park was as dull as a monastery after the life

which I had been living. In town I stayed then with such boon companions

as Tommy Lawson, my Lord Halifax, Sir Jasper Lemarck, little Geordie

Chichester, aye, and old Sidney Godolphin of the Treasury; for with all

his staid ways and long-winded budgets he could drain a cup with the

best of us, and was as keen on a main of cocks as on a committee of ways

and means. Well, it was rare sport while it lasted, and sink me if

I wouldn’t do the same again if I had my time once more. It is like

sliding down a greased plank though, for at first a man goes slow

enough, and thinks he can pull himself up, but presently he goes faster

and faster, until he comes with a crash on to the rocks of ruin at the

bottom.’

‘And did you run through four thousand pounds a year?’ I exclaimed.

‘Od’s bodikins, man, you speak as if this paltry sum were all the

wealth of the Indies. Why, from Ormonde or Buckingham, with their twenty

thousand, down to ranting Dicky Talbot, there was not one of my set who

could not have bought me out. Yet I must have my coach and four, my town

house, my liveried servants, and my stable full of horses. To be in the

mode I must have my poet, and throw him a handful of guineas for his

dedication. Well, poor devil, he is one who will miss me. I warrant his

heart was as heavy as his verses when he found me gone, though perchance

he has turned a few guineas by this time by writing a satire upon me.

It would have a ready sale among my friends. Gad’s life! I wonder how

my levees get on, and whom all my suitors have fastened on to now. There

they were morning after morning, the French pimp, the English bully, the

needy man o’ letters, the neglected inventor--I never thought to have

got rid of them, but indeed I have shaken them off very effectually now.

When the honey-pot is broken it is farewell to the flies.’

‘And your noble friends?’ I asked. ‘Did none of them stand by you in

your adversity?’

‘Well, well, I have nought to complain of!’ exclaimed Sir Gervas. ‘They

were brave-hearted boys for the most part. I might have had their names

on my bills as long as their fingers could hold a pen, but slit me if I

like bleeding my own companions. They might have found a place for me,

too, had I consented to play second-fiddle where I had been used to lead

the band. I’ faith, I care not what I turn my hand to amongst strangers,

but I would fain leave my memory sweet in town.’

‘As to what you proposed, of serving us as a valet,’ said I, ‘it is not

to be thought of. We are, in spite of my friend’s waggishness, but two

plain blunt countrymen, and have no more need of a valet than one of

those poets which you have spoken of. On the other hand, if you should

care to attach yourself to our party, we shall take you where you

will see service which shall be more to your taste than the curling of

periwigs or the brushing of eyebrows.’

‘Nay, nay, my friend. Speak not with unseemly levity of the mysteries

of the toilet,’ he cried. ‘Ye would yourselves be none the worse for

a touch of mine ivory comb, and a closer acquaintance with the famous

skin-purifying wash of Murphy which I am myself in the habit of using.’

‘I am beholden to you, sir,’ said Reuben, ‘but the famous spring water

wash by Providence is quite good enough for the purpose.’

‘And Dame Nature hath placed a wig of her own upon me,’ I added, ‘which

I should be very loth to change.’

‘Goths! Perfect Goths!’ cried the exquisite, throwing up his white

hands. ‘But here comes a heavy tread and the clink of armour in the

passage. ‘Tis our friend the knight of the wrathful countenance, if I

mistake not.’

It was indeed Saxon, who strode into the room to tell us that our horses

were at the door, and that all was ready for our departure. Taking

him aside I explained to him in a whisper what had passed between the

stranger and ourselves, with the circumstances which had led me to

suggest that he should join our party. The old soldier frowned at the

news.

‘What have we to do with such a coxcomb?’ he said. ‘We have hard fare

and harder blows before us. He is not fit for the work.’

‘You said yourself that Monmouth will be weak in horse,’ I answered.

‘Here is a well-appointed cavalier, who is to all appearance a desperate

man and ready for anything. Why should we not enrol him?’

‘I fear,’ said Saxon, ‘that his body may prove to be like the bran of

a fine cushion, of value only for what it has around it. However, it is

perhaps for the best. The handle to his name may make him welcome in the

camp, for from what I hear there is some dissatisfaction at the way in

which the gentry stand aloof from the enterprise.’

‘I had feared,’ I remarked, still speaking in a whisper, ‘that we were

about to lose one of our party instead of gaining one in this Bruton

inn.’

‘I have thought better of it,’ he answered, with a smile. ‘Nay, I’ll

tell you of it anon. Well, Sir Gervas Jerome,’ he added aloud, turning

to our new associate, ‘I hear that you are coming with us. For a day you

must be content to follow without question or remark. Is that agreed!’

‘With all my heart,’ cried Sir Gervas.

‘Then here’s a bumper to our better acquaintance,’ cried Saxon, raising

his glass.

‘I pledge ye all,’ quoth the gallant. ‘Here’s to a fair fight, and may

the best men win.’

‘Donnerblitz, man!’ said Saxon. ‘I believe there’s mettle in you for all

your gay plumes. I do conceive a liking for you. Give me your hand!’

The soldier of fortune’s great brown grip enclosed the delicate hand

of our new friend in a pledge of comradeship. Then, having paid our

reckoning and bade a cordial adieu to Dame Hobson, who glanced methought

somewhat reproachfully or expectantly at Saxon, we sprang on our steeds

and continued our journey amidst a crowd of staring villagers, who

huzzaed lustily as we rode out from amongst them.