the classical reader can taste
Mr. Western had an estate in this parish; and as his house stood
at little greater distance from this church than from his own, he very
often came to Divine Service here; and both he and the charming Sophia
happened to be present at this time.
Sophia was much pleased with the beauty of the girl, whom she pitied
for her simplicity in having dressed herself in that manner, as she
saw the envy which it had occasioned among her equals. She no sooner
came home than she sent for the gamekeeper, and ordered him to bring
his daughter to her; saying she would provide for her in the family,
and might possibly place the girl about her own person, when her own
maid, who was now going away, had left her.
Poor Seagrim was thunderstruck at this; for he was no stranger to
the fault in the shape of his daughter. He answered, in a stammering
voice, "That he was afraid Molly would be too awkward to wait on her
ladyship, as she had never been at service." "No matter for that,"
says Sophia; "she will soon improve. I am pleased with the girl, and
am resolved to try her."
Black George now repaired to his wife, on whose prudent counsel he
depended to extricate him out of this dilemma; but when he came
thither he found his house in some confusion. So great envy had this
sack occasioned, that when Mr. Allworthy and the other gentry were
gone from church, the rage, which had hitherto been confined, burst
into an uproar; and, having vented itself at first in opprobrious
words, laughs, hisses, and gestures, betook itself at last to
certain missile weapons; which, though from their plastic nature
they threatened neither the loss of life or of limb, were however
sufficiently dreadful to a well-dressed lady. Molly had too much
spirit to bear this treatment tamely. Having therefore- but hold, as
we are diffident of our own abilities, let us here invite a superior
power to our assistance.
Ye Muses, then, whoever ye are, who love to sing battles, and
principally thou who whilom didst recount the slaughter in those
fields where Hudibras and Trulla fought, if thou wert not starved with
thy friend Butler, assist me on this great occasion. All things are
not in the power of all.
As a vast herd of cows in a rich farmer's yard, if, while they are
milked, they hear their calves at a distance, lamenting the robbery
which is then committing, roar and bellow; so roared forth the
Somersetshire mob an hallaloo, made up of almost as many squalls,
screams, and other different sounds as there were persons, or indeed
passions among them: some were inspired by rage, others alarmed by
fear, and others had nothing in their heads but the love of fun; but
chiefly Envy, the sister of Satan, and his constant companion,
rushed among the crowd, and blew up the fury of the women; who no
sooner came up to Molly than they pelted her with dirt and rubbish.
Molly, having endeavoured in vain to make a handsome retreat,
faced about; and laying hold of ragged Bess, who advanced in the front
of the enemy, she at one blow felled her to the ground. The whole army
of the enemy (though near a hundred in number), seeing the fate of
their general, gave back many paces, and retired behind a new-dug
grave; for the churchyard was the field of battle, where there was
to be a funeral that very evening. Molly pursued her victory, and
catching up a skull which lay on the side of the grave, discharged
it with such fury, that having hit a taylor on the head, the two
skulls sent equally forth a hollow sound at their meeting, and the
taylor took presently measure of his length on the ground, where the
skulls lay side by side, and it was doubtful which was the more
valuable of the two. Molly then taking a thigh-bone in her hand,
fell in among the flying ranks, and dealing her blows with great
liberality on either side, overthrew the carcass of many a mighty
heroe and heroine.
Recount, O Muse, the names of those who fell on this fatal day.
First, Jemmy Tweedle felt on his hinder head the direful bone. Him the
pleasant banks of sweetly-winding Stour had nourished, where he
first learnt the vocal art, with which, wandering up and down at wakes
and fairs, he cheered the rural nymphs and swains, when upon the green
they interweaved the sprightly dance; while he himself stood
fiddling and jumping to his own music. How little now avails his
fiddle! He thumps the verdant floor with his carcass. Next, old
Echepole, the sowgelder, received a blow in his forehead from our
Amazonian heroine, and immediately fell to the ground. He was a
swinging fat fellow, and fell with almost as much noise as a house.
His tobacco-box dropped at the same time from his pocket, which
Molly took up as lawful spoils. Then Kate of the Mill tumbled
unfortunately over a tombstone, which catching hold of her
ungartered stocking inverted the order of nature, and gave her heels
the superiority to her head. Betty Pippin, with young Roger her lover,
fell both to the ground; where, oh perverse fate! she salutes the
earth, and he the sky. Tom Freckle, the smith's son, was the next
victim to her rage. He was an ingenious workman, and made excellent
pattens; nay, the very patten with which he was knocked down was his
own workmanship. Had he been at that time singing psalms in the
church, he would have avoided a broken head. Miss Crow, the daughter
of a farmer; John Giddish, himself a farmer; Nan Slouch, Esther
Codling, Will Spray, Tom Bennet; the three Misses Potter, whose father
keeps the sign of the Red Lion; Betty Chambermaid, Jack Ostler, and
many others of inferior note, lay rolling among the graves.
Not that the strenuous arm of Molly reached all these; for many of
them in their flight overthrew each other.
But now Fortune, fearing she had acted out of character, and had
inclined too long to the same side, especially as it was the right
side, hastily turned about: for now Goody Brown- whom Zekiel Brown
caressed in his arms; nor he alone, but half the parish besides; so
famous was she in the fields of Venus, nor indeed less in those of
Mars. The trophies of both these her husband always bore about on
his head and face; for if ever human head did by its horns display the
amorous glories of a wife, Zekiel's did; nor did his well-scratched
face less denote her talents (or rather talons) of a different kind.
No longer bore this Amazon the shameful flight of her party. She
stopt short, and, calling aloud to all who fled, spoke as follows: "Ye
Somersetshire men, or rather ye Somersetshire women, are ye not
ashamed thus to fly from a single woman? But if no other will oppose
her, I myself and Joan Top here will have the honour of the
victory." Having thus said, she flew at Molly Seagrim, and easily
wrenched the thigh-bone from her hand, at the same time clawing off
her cap from her head. Then laying hold of the hair of Molly with
her left hand, she attacked her so furiously in the face with the
right, that the blood soon began to trickle from her nose. Molly was
not idle this while. She soon removed the clout from the head of Goody
Brown, and then fastening on her hair with one hand, with the other
she caused another bloody stream to issue forth from the nostrils of
the enemy.
When each of the combatants had borne off sufficient spoils of
hair from the head of her antagonist, the next rage was against the
garments. In this attack they exerted so much violence, that in a very
few minutes they were both naked to the middle.
It is lucky for the women that the seat of fistycuff war is not
the same with them as among men; but though they may seem a little
to deviate from their sex, when they go forth to battle, yet I have
observed, they never so far forget, as to assail the bosoms of each
other; where a few blows would be fatal to most of them. This, I know,
some derive from their being of a more bloody inclination than the
males. On which account they apply to the nose, as to the part
whence blood may most easily be drawn; but this seems a far-fetched as
well as ill-natured supposition.
Goody Brown had great advantage of Molly in this particular; for the
former had indeed no breasts, her bosom (if it may be so called), as
well in colour as in many other properties, exactly resembling an
antient piece of parchment, upon which any one might have drummed a
considerable while without doing her any great damage.
Molly, beside her present unhappy condition, was differently
formed in those parts, and might, perhaps, have tempted the envy of
Brown to give her a fatal blow, had not the lucky arrival of Tom Jones
at this instant put an immediate end to the bloody scene.
This accident was luckily owing to Mr. Square; for he, Master
Blifil, and Jones, had mounted their horses, after church, to take the
air, and had ridden about a quarter of a mile, when Square, changing
his mind (not idly, but for a reason which we shall unfold as soon
as we have leisure), desired the young gentlemen to ride with him
another way than they had at first purposed. This motion being
complied with, brought them of necessity back again to the churchyard.
Master Blifil, who rode first, seeing such a mob assembled, and
two women in the posture in which we left the combatants, stopt his
horse to enquire what was the matter. A country fellow, scratching his
head, answered him: "I don't know, measter, un't I; an't please your
honour, here hath been a vight, I think, between Goody Brown and
Moll Seagrim."
"Who, who?" cries Tom; but without waiting for an answer, having
discovered the features of his Molly through all the discomposure in
which they now were, he hastily alighted, turned his horse loose, and,
leaping over the wall, ran to her. She now first bursting into
tears, told him how barbarously she had been treated. Upon which,
forgetting the sex of Goody Brown, or perhaps not knowing it in his
rage- for, in reality, she had no feminine appearance but a
petticoat, which he might not observe- he gave her a lash or two with
his horsewhip; and then flying at the mob, who were all accused by
Moll, he dealt his blows so profusely on all sides, that unless I
would again invoke the muse (which the good-natured reader may think a
little too hard upon her, as she hath so lately been violently
sweated), it would be impossible for me to recount the
horse-whipping of that day.
Having scoured the whole coast of the enemy, as well as any of
Homer's heroes ever did, or as Don Quixote or any knight-errant in the
world could have done, he returned to Molly, whom he found in a
condition which must give both me and my reader pain, was it to be
described here. Tom raved like a madman, beat his breast, tore his
hair, stamped on the ground, and vowed the utmost vengeance on all who
had been concerned. He then pulled off his coat, and buttoned it round
her, put his hat upon her head, wiped the blood from her face as
well as he could with his handkerchief, and called out to the
servant to ride as fast as possible for a side-saddle, or a pillion,
that he might carry her safe home.
Master Blifil objected to the sending away the servant, as they
had only one with them; but as Square seconded the order of Jones,
he was obliged to comply.
The servant returned in a very short time with the pillion, and
Molly, having collected her rags as well as she could, was placed
behind him. In which manner she was carried home, Square, Blifil,
and Jones attending.
Here Jones having received his coat, given her a sly kiss, and
whispered her, that he would return in the evening, quitted his Molly,
and rode on after his companions.
Chapter 9
Containing matter of no very peaceable colour
Molly had no sooner apparelled herself in her accustomed rags,
than her sisters began to fall violently upon her, particularly her
eldest sister, who told her she was well enough served. "How had she
the assurance to wear a gown which young Madam Western had given to
mother! If one of us was to wear it, I think, says she, "I myself have
the best right; but I warrant you think it belongs to your beauty. I
suppose you think yourself more handsomer than any of us."- "Hand her
down the bit of glass from over the cupboard," cries another; "I'd
wash the blood from my face before I talked of my beauty."- "You'd
better have minded what the parson says," cries the eldest, "and not a
harkened after men voke."- "Indeed, child, and so she had," says the
mother, sobbing: "she hath brought a disgrace upon us all. She's the
vurst of the vamily that ever was a whore."
"You need not upbraid me with that, mother," cried Molly; "you
yourself was brought-to-bed of sister there, within a week after you
was married."
"Yes, hussy," answered the enraged mother, "so I was, and what was
the mighty matter of that? I was made an honest woman then; and if you
was to be made an honest woman, I should not be angry; but you must
have to doing with a gentleman, you nasty slut; you will have a
bastard, hussy, you will; and that I defy any one to say of me."
In this situation Black George found his family, when he came home
for the purpose before mentioned. As his wife and three daughters were
all of them talking together, and most of them crying, it was some
time before he could get an opportunity of being heard; but as soon as
such interval occurred, he acquainted the company with what Sophia had
said to him.
Goody Seagrim then began to revile her daughter afresh. "Here," says
she, "you have brought us into a fine quandary indeed. What will madam
say to that big belly? Oh that ever I should live to see this day!"
Molly answered with great spirit, "And what is this mighty place
which you have got for me, father?" (for he had not well understood
the phrase used by Sophia of being about her person). "I suppose it is
