MR. PICKWICK’S TALE
A good many years have passed away since old John Podgers lived in thetown of Windsor, where he was born, and where, in course of time, he cameto be comfortably and snugly buried. You may be sure that in the time ofKing James the First, Windsor was a very quaint queer old town, and youmay take it upon my authority that John Podgers was a very quaint queerold fellow; consequently he and Windsor fitted each other to a nicety,and seldom parted company even for half a day.
John Podgers was broad, sturdy, Dutch-built, short, and a very hardeater, as men of his figure often are. Being a hard sleeper likewise, hedivided his time pretty equally between these two recreations, alwaysfalling asleep when he had done eating, and always taking another turn atthe trencher when he had done sleeping, by which means he grew morecorpulent and more drowsy every day of his life. Indeed it used to becurrently reported that when he sauntered up and down the sunny side ofthe street before dinner (as he never failed to do in fair weather), heenjoyed his soundest nap; but many people held this to be a fiction, ashe had several times been seen to look after fat oxen on market-days, andhad even been heard, by persons of good credit and reputation, to chuckleat the sight, and say to himself with great glee, ‘Live beef, live beef!’It was upon this evidence that the wisest people in Windsor (beginningwith the local authorities of course) held that John Podgers was a man ofstrong, sound sense, not what is called smart, perhaps, and it might beof a rather lazy and apoplectic turn, but still a man of solid parts, andone who meant much more than he cared to show. This impression wasconfirmed by a very dignified way he had of shaking his head andimparting, at the same time, a pendulous motion to his double chin; inshort, he passed for one of those people who, being plunged into theThames, would make no vain efforts to set it afire, but would straightwayflop down to the bottom with a deal of gravity, and be highly respectedin consequence by all good men.
Being well to do in the world, and a peaceful widower,—having a greatappetite, which, as he could afford to gratify it, was a luxury and noinconvenience, and a power of going to sleep, which, as he had nooccasion to keep awake, was a most enviable faculty,—you will readilysuppose that John Podgers was a happy man. But appearances are oftendeceptive when they least seem so, and the truth is that, notwithstandinghis extreme sleekness, he was rendered uneasy in his mind and exceedinglyuncomfortable by a constant apprehension that beset him night and day.
You know very well that in those times there flourished divers evil oldwomen who, under the name of Witches, spread great disorder through theland, and inflicted various dismal tortures upon Christian men; stickingpins and needles into them when they least expected it, and causing themto walk in the air with their feet upwards, to the great terror of theirwives and families, who were naturally very much disconcerted when themaster of the house unexpectedly came home, knocking at the door with hisheels and combing his hair on the scraper. These were their commonestpranks, but they every day played a hundred others, of which none wereless objectionable, and many were much more so, being improper besides;the result was that vengeance was denounced against all old women, withwhom even the king himself had no sympathy (as he certainly ought to havehad), for with his own most Gracious hand he penned a most Graciousconsignment of them to everlasting wrath, and devised most Gracious meansfor their confusion and slaughter, in virtue whereof scarcely a daypassed but one witch at the least was most graciously hanged, drowned, orroasted in some part of his dominions. Still the press teemed withstrange and terrible news from the North or the South, or the East or theWest, relative to witches and their unhappy victims in some corner of thecountry, and the Public’s hair stood on end to that degree that it liftedits hat off its head, and made its face pale with terror.
You may believe that the little town of Windsor did not escape thegeneral contagion. The inhabitants boiled a witch on the king’s birthdayand sent a bottle of the broth to court, with a dutiful addressexpressive of their loyalty. The king, being rather frightened by thepresent, piously bestowed it upon the Archbishop of Canterbury, andreturned an answer to the address, wherein he gave them golden rules fordiscovering witches, and laid great stress upon certain protectingcharms, and especially horseshoes. Immediately the towns-people went towork nailing up horseshoes over every door, and so many anxious parentsapprenticed their children to farriers to keep them out of harm’s way,that it became quite a genteel trade, and flourished exceedingly.
In the midst of all this bustle John Podgers ate and slept as usual, butshook his head a great deal oftener than was his custom, and was observedto look at the oxen less, and at the old women more. He had a littleshelf put up in his sitting-room, whereon was displayed, in a row whichgrew longer every week, all the witchcraft literature of the time; hegrew learned in charms and exorcisms, hinted at certain questionablefemales on broomsticks whom he had seen from his chamber window, ridingin the air at night, and was in constant terror of being bewitched. Atlength, from perpetually dwelling upon this one idea, which, being alonein his head, had all its own way, the fear of witches became the singlepassion of his life. He, who up to that time had never known what it wasto dream, began to have visions of witches whenever he fell asleep;waking, they were incessantly present to his imagination likewise; and,sleeping or waking, he had not a moment’s peace. He began to setwitch-traps in the highway, and was often seen lying in wait round thecorner for hours together, to watch their effect. These engines were ofsimple construction, usually consisting of two straws disposed in theform of a cross, or a piece of a Bible cover with a pinch of salt uponit; but they were infallible, and if an old woman chanced to stumble overthem (as not unfrequently happened, the chosen spot being a broken andstony place), John started from a doze, pounced out upon her, and hunground her neck till assistance arrived, when she was immediately carriedaway and drowned. By dint of constantly inveigling old ladies anddisposing of them in this summary manner, he acquired the reputation of agreat public character; and as he received no harm in these pursuitsbeyond a scratched face or so, he came, in the course of time, to beconsidered witch-proof.
There was but one person who entertained the least doubt of JohnPodgers’s gifts, and that person was his own nephew, a wild, roving youngfellow of twenty who had been brought up in his uncle’s house and livedthere still,—that is to say, when he was at home, which was not as oftenas it might have been. As he was an apt scholar, it was he who readaloud every fresh piece of strange and terrible intelligence that JohnPodgers bought; and this he always did of an evening in the little porchin front of the house, round which the neighbours would flock in crowdsto hear the direful news,—for people like to be frightened, and when theycan be frightened for nothing and at another man’s expense, they like itall the better.
One fine midsummer evening, a group of persons were gathered in thisplace, listening intently to Will Marks (that was the nephew’s name), aswith his cap very much on one side, his arm coiled slyly round the waistof a pretty girl who sat beside him, and his face screwed into a comicalexpression intended to represent extreme gravity, he read—with Heavenknows how many embellishments of his own—a dismal account of a gentlemandown in Northamptonshire under the influence of witchcraft and takenforcible possession of by the Devil, who was playing his very self withhim. John Podgers, in a high sugar-loaf hat and short cloak, filled theopposite seat, and surveyed the auditory with a look of mingled pride andhorror very edifying to see; while the hearers, with their heads thrustforward and their mouths open, listened and trembled, and hoped there wasa great deal more to come. Sometimes Will stopped for an instant to lookround upon his eager audience, and then, with a more comical expressionof face than before and a settling of himself comfortably, which includeda squeeze of the young lady before mentioned, he launched into some newwonder surpassing all the others.
The setting sun shed his last golden rays upon this little party, who,absorbed in their present occupation, took no heed of the approach ofnight, or the glor
y in which the day went down, when the sound of ahorse, approaching at a good round trot, invading the silence of thehour, caused the reader to make a sudden stop, and the listeners to raisetheir heads in wonder. Nor was their wonder diminished when a horsemandashed up to the porch, and abruptly checking his steed, inquired whereone John Podgers dwelt.
‘Here!’ cried a dozen voices, while a dozen hands pointed out sturdyJohn, still basking in the terrors of the pamphlet.
The rider, giving his bridle to one of those who surrounded him,dismounted, and approached John, hat in hand, but with great haste.
‘Whence come ye?’ said John.
‘From Kingston, master.’
‘And wherefore?’
‘On most pressing business.’
‘Of what nature?’
‘Witchcraft.’
Witchcraft! Everybody looked aghast at the breathless messenger, and thebreathless messenger looked equally aghast at everybody—except WillMarks, who, finding himself unobserved, not only squeezed the young ladyagain, but kissed her twice. Surely he must have been bewitched himself,or he never could have done it—and the young lady too, or she never wouldhave let him.
‘Witchcraft!’ cried Will, drowning the sound of his last kiss, which wasrather a loud one.
The messenger turned towards him, and with a frown repeated the word moresolemnly than before; then told his errand, which was, in brief, that thepeople of Kingston had been greatly terrified for some nights past byhideous revels, held by witches beneath the gibbet within a mile of thetown, and related and deposed to by chance wayfarers who had passedwithin ear-shot of the spot; that the sound of their voices in their wildorgies had been plainly heard by many persons; that three old womenlaboured under strong suspicion, and that precedents had been consultedand solemn council had, and it was found that to identify the hags somesingle person must watch upon the spot alone; that no single person hadthe courage to perform the task; and that he had been despatched expressto solicit John Podgers to undertake it that very night, as being a manof great renown, who bore a charmed life, and was proof against unholyspells.
[Picture: Will Marks reading the News concerning Witches]
John received this communication with much composure, and said in a fewwords, that it would have afforded him inexpressible pleasure to do theKingston people so slight a service, if it were not for his unfortunatepropensity to fall asleep, which no man regretted more than himself uponthe present occasion, but which quite settled the question.Nevertheless, he said, there _was_ a gentleman present (and here helooked very hard at a tall farrier), who, having been engaged all hislife in the manufacture of horseshoes, must be quite invulnerable to thepower of witches, and who, he had no doubt, from his own reputation forbravery and good-nature, would readily accept the commission. Thefarrier politely thanked him for his good opinion, which it would alwaysbe his study to deserve, but added that, with regard to the presentlittle matter, he couldn’t think of it on any account, as his departingon such an errand would certainly occasion the instant death of his wife,to whom, as they all knew, he was tenderly attached. Now, so far fromthis circumstance being notorious, everybody had suspected the reverse,as the farrier was in the habit of beating his lady rather more thantender husbands usually do; all the married men present, however,applauded his resolution with great vehemence, and one and all declaredthat they would stop at home and die if needful (which happily it wasnot) in defence of their lawful partners.
This burst of enthusiasm over, they began to look, as by one consent,toward Will Marks, who, with his cap more on one side than ever, satwatching the proceedings with extraordinary unconcern. He had never beenheard openly to express his disbelief in witches, but had often cut suchjokes at their expense as left it to be inferred; publicly stating onseveral occasions that he considered a broomstick an inconvenientcharger, and one especially unsuited to the dignity of the femalecharacter, and indulging in other free remarks of the same tendency, tothe great amusement of his wild companions.
As they looked at Will they began to whisper and murmur among themselves,and at length one man cried, ‘Why don’t you ask Will Marks?’
As this was what everybody had been thinking of, they all took up theword, and cried in concert, ‘Ah! why don’t you ask Will?’
‘_He_ don’t care,’ said the farrier.
‘Not he,’ added another voice in the crowd.
‘He don’t believe in it, you know,’ sneered a little man with a yellowface and a taunting nose and chin, which he thrust out from under the armof a long man before him.
‘Besides,’ said a red-faced gentleman with a gruff voice, ‘he’s a singleman.’
‘That’s the point!’ said the farrier; and all the married men murmured,ah! that was it, and they only wished they were single themselves; theywould show him what spirit was, very soon.
The messenger looked towards Will Marks beseechingly.
‘It will be a wet night, friend, and my gray nag is tired afteryesterday’s work—’
Here there was a general titter.
‘But,’ resumed Will, looking about him with a smile, ‘if nobody else putsin a better claim to go, for the credit of the town I am your man, and Iwould be, if I had to go afoot. In five minutes I shall be in thesaddle, unless I am depriving any worthy gentleman here of the honour ofthe adventure, which I wouldn’t do for the world.’
But here arose a double difficulty, for not only did John Podgers combatthe resolution with all the words he had, which were not many, but theyoung lady combated it too with all the tears she had, which were verymany indeed. Will, however, being inflexible, parried his uncle’sobjections with a joke, and coaxed the young lady into a smile in threeshort whispers. As it was plain that he set his mind upon it, and wouldgo, John Podgers offered him a few first-rate charms out of his ownpocket, which he dutifully declined to accept; and the young lady gavehim a kiss, which he also returned.
‘You see what a rare thing it is to be married,’ said Will, ‘and howcareful and considerate all these husbands are. There’s not a man amongthem but his heart is leaping to forestall me in this adventure, and yeta strong sense of duty keeps him back. The husbands in this one littletown are a pattern to the world, and so must the wives be too, for thatmatter, or they could never boast half the influence they have!’
Waiting for no reply to this sarcasm, he snapped his fingers and withdrewinto the house, and thence into the stable, while some busied themselvesin refreshing the messenger, and others in baiting his steed. In lessthan the specified time he returned by another way, with a good cloakhanging over his arm, a good sword girded by his side, and leading hisgood horse caparisoned for the journey.
‘Now,’ said Will, leaping into the saddle at a bound, ‘up and away. Uponyour mettle, friend, and push on. Good night!’
He kissed his hand to the girl, nodded to his drowsy uncle, waved his capto the rest—and off they flew pell-mell, as if all the witches in Englandwere in their horses’ legs. They were out of sight in a minute.
The men who were left behind shook their heads doubtfully, stroked theirchins, and shook their heads again. The farrier said that certainly WillMarks was a good horseman, nobody should ever say he denied that: but hewas rash, very rash, and there was no telling what the end of it mightbe; what did he go for, that was what he wanted to know? He wished theyoung fellow no harm, but why did he go? Everybody echoed these words,and shook their heads again, having done which they wished John Podgersgood night, and straggled home to bed.
The Kingston people were in their first sleep when Will Marks and hisconductor rode through the town and up to the door of a house wheresundry grave functionaries were assembled, anxiously expecting thearrival of the renowned Podgers. They were a little disappointed to finda gay young man in his place; but they put the best face upon the matter,and gave him full instructions how he was to conceal himself behind thegibbet, and watch and listen to the witches, and how at a certain time hew
as to burst forth and cut and slash among them vigorously, so that thesuspected parties might be found bleeding in their beds next day, andthoroughly confounded. They gave him a great quantity of wholesomeadvice besides, and—which was more to the purpose with Will—a goodsupper. All these things being done, and midnight nearly come, theysallied forth to show him the spot where he was to keep his dreary vigil.
The night was by this time dark and threatening. There was a rumbling ofdistant thunder, and a low sighing of wind among the trees, which wasvery dismal. The potentates of the town kept so uncommonly close to Willthat they trod upon his toes, or stumbled against his ankles, or nearlytripped up his heels at every step he took, and, besides theseannoyances, their teeth chattered so with fear, that he seemed to beaccompanied by a dirge of castanets.
At last they made a halt at the opening of a lonely, desolate space, and,pointing to a black object at some distance, asked Will if he saw that,yonder.
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘What then?’
Informing him abruptly that it was the gibbet where he was to watch, theywished him good night in an extremely friendly manner, and ran back asfast as their feet would carry them.
Will walked boldly to the gibbet, and, glancing upwards when he cameunder it, saw—certainly with satisfaction—that it was empty, and thatnothing dangled from the top but some iron chains, which swung mournfullyto and fro as they were moved by the breeze. After a careful survey ofevery quarter he determined to take his station with his face towards thetown; both because that would place him with his back to the wind, andbecause, if any trick or surprise were attempted, it would probably comefrom that direction in the first instance. Having taken theseprecautions, he wrapped his cloak about him so that it left the handle ofhis sword free, and ready to his hand, and leaning against thegallows-tree with his cap not quite so much on one side as it had beenbefore, took up his position for the night.
[Picture: Will Marks takes up his position for the night]