Chronicles of Turkeytown; or, The works of Jeremy Peters [pseud.] 1st ser. Containing the history of a dreadful catastrophe, the amours of Dr. Post and Mrs. Peweetle, and the history of a tatterdemalion ..

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CtijtronttUssi of

Chapter I

Containing some Introductory Matters^ and a pithy Mdress to the Reader.

Whoever consults the Gazetteer, will find, or ought to find, the description of a village that exists in a certain part of the state of New Jersey, and which has been long known under the appellation of Turkeytown. Some persons, who seem to have been more desirous to attract notice by a witty saying, than to elicit truth, have started an opinion, that this name owes its derivation to an old byword, signifying, <^that all the inhabitants were as poor as Job’s turkey.” Now, whether Job’s turkey was poor or otherwise, or whether he even possessed such a bird, is really more than I can inform the reader; but for a refutation of the piece of A slander above mentioned, I must refer him to a pamphlet published some years since by the learned Adnojah Peacock, which proves, as plain as the nose on my face, that the original name of the village was Tantulug, because it was so very small when it was first begun. In process of time, Tantulus became corrupted to Turtulus, from that to Turtulee, and finally to Turkeytown, when the inhabitants became satisfied, and determined that the name should undergo no further change, but remain Turkeytown for ever. These facts I have stated for the benefit of future antiquarians; for, as I make no question that Turkeytown will hereafter be considered one of the most renowned places upon the face of this terrestrial globe, so it was to be feared, that some thousand years hence, the learned heads of the times, might have puzzled themselves for a thousand years more, without discovering half so much information upon this point, as is contained in the few lines above written. This much premised, the reader is next to be informed, that, in by-gone days, there lived in this same village of Turkeytown, a Mr. Jediah Peters, who having, when about twenty-five years of age, thought proper to accommodate himself with a wife, was nine months afterwards presented with a son, to whom he gave the name of Jeremy. Now it so happened, that this Jeremy, when grown up to man’s estate.

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was much given to reflection, and, in particular, he would often sit with his head inclined upon his hand for hours together, and contemplate the mu^ tability of this sublunary life. How many hundred millions of human beings have there been, thought he, who seem only to have been created, like the vegetables of the fields, to die, rot, and be forgotten. Of all the countless masses of people, who at different times have thronged the world, how few are there whose names have survived the engravings upon their tombstones. They have existed their day; perhaps sported through life like the gaudy butterfly, perhaps toiled it out like the humble beetle, or the ant; but all alike have sooner or later been swept away into oblivion. Such reflections as these troubled the mind of Jeremy Peters not a little, and at length he began seriously to think in what manner he should avoid that black and insatiable gulf, which even the myriads, who have already entered, cannot fill. Sometimes he would resolve to be a soldier, and by leading forth armies to overthrow empires and subdue the world, have his name inscribed with those of Alexander and Caesar upon the scroll of glory. Sometimes again he determined to become a statesman, and enact laws, which, like those of Solon and Lycurgus, should become the admiration of future ages. Upon these and the like projects he was constantly ruminating; but some how or other, years passed aw'ay, and he became too old either to endure the fatigues of war, or to thread the intricate mazes of politics. He then, as a last resource, resolved to write a book; and this project, when he considered it, appeared so feasible, that he greatly wondered it had not occurred to him before. He conceived that, by this means, he would not only be enabled to perpetuate the remembrance of his own name, but also those of his friends; for he had made up his mind, that his book should be a complete Turkeytown history, in which, although he himself, as of right he ought, would take the first place, all his neighbours and acquaintances should come in for a reasonable share.

And now, having completely formed his resolution, he determined to lose no further time in the execution of his project; and, accordingly, collecting a quantity of paper, and replenishing his inkstand, he seated himself by a table, and, after scratching his head for some time, by way of invoking all the gods and goddesses, who usually wait upon the authorcraft, to his assistance, commenced an address to his reader, as follows:

Gentle Reader — I am aware, that every one who is preparing to set forth upon a journey, naturally feels some interest in inquiring the character of the road he is about to travel, and also, what incidents and

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entertainment he is likely to meet with by the way. Allow me, therefore, to inform you, that the excursion we are about to take together is one of pleasure; we shall not keep the turnpike, or drive straight forward from town to town, like the mail coach, but we shall strike out a new road for ourselves, having Fancy for our guide, and Good Humour for our postilion. We shall not fail to amuse ourselves with the eccentricities of those travellers we may meet with by the way, but it shall be done with all imaginable mirth and pleasantry, particularly avoiding the example of that ancient poet, (Hipponax, I think it was,) who wrote such bitter satires, that the persons against whom they were directed, are said to have hanged themselves for vexation. For my part, I am utterly opposed to every species of strangulation, except that, when by long continued exercise of the risible organs, the Pomum Adami becomes partially obstructed by an overflowing tide of merriment; in which manner I most cordially wish that you may strangle yourself at least three times a day. In short, the history which I am about to write, and you to read, will be found, if I am not mistaken, of a most novel and diverting character. I have not sought amongst the tobacconists and groceries for their greasy wrappers, nor have I penetrated the bowels of the earth in search of mouldy parchments: — the A 2 contents of my book come fresh from the pen of its author; and my highest wish is, that long after the worms have feasted upon my fingers, the lines they are now tracing may continue to afford you instruction and amusement

Chapter II

In which the history goes on in good earnest. Relating how I was born without any assistance one stormy night — How I was jjlaced under the charge of a most excellent nurse ; and how the good effects of her anxious labours were unfortunately blighted by my mother ; which gives rise to a memorable discussion between my father and Doctor Lavender.

It was during the night of the 21st of June, 1779, and a tempestuous night it was, too, that I was first ushered into this breathing world; or rather, I ushered myself into it, for though John Jobson had been gone after the doctor for more than an hour and a half, he had either lost his way in the thunder storm, or he had not found him at home, or the doctor was too long in coming; at all events, when he did arrive, I had no further occasion for

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his assistance. When the news was told to my father, he said, he was heartily glad, since the doctor was so dilatory, that I had got the start of him; for, continued he, our success in obtaining any of the objects we struggle for through life, depends greatly upon our decision in seizing upon the particular moment adapted by fate to the circumstances of it; and he therefore concluded, that my coming into the world without waiting for the aid of science, augured a quick and lively judgment, which would hereafter enable the possessor to think and act for himself, without staying for the assistance of others, when the critical point of time had arrived. How far this prediction has been verified, will be seen, perhaps, by those who accompany me to the conclusion of my labours; but at present it must stand for as much as it is worth, whilst I proceed to relate the particulars of an event, which, though apparently trifling in itself, had nearly blighted all my favourable prospects, and created so much confusion in my father’s house, that, for the time, every thing seemed to be turned topsyturvy. To do this, however, it will be necessary for us to turn back a step or two.

Amidst all the cares and difficulties of a matrimonial life, there is no one object more important, and which occasions more bustle and stir, than the selection of a suitable nurse. There are so many different qualities and requisites to be looked to, that long before the advent of the expected heir, the characters of the different applicants are nicely discussed and canvassed in a full divan of all the female relations and friends, whose age and experience entitle them to a voice on so momentous a question. My mother, as I have been informed, neglected none of the usual precautions. Three several councils were held, and nearly a pound of pouchong was consumed before the point could be satisfactorily settled.

They resulted at last, however, in the appointment of Mrs. Rebecca Simons, and truly, if my mother’s counsellors had continued their sittings to this day, they could scarcely have hit upon one whose qualities seemed better adapted to the purpose. As nearly as I can recollect^ the good lady was about forty-five years of age. She had blue eyes, that looked all mildness and suavity; a nose gently turned up at the end, and a mouth that carried a perpetual smile. Altogether, her face, peeping out from the borders of a pinched cap, and an old fashioned gauze cape, had such a goodly, matronlike aspect, that one might have sworn she was born to shine in a nursery, and run no risk of being ducked for a wizard or a phrenologist. To this respectable person, then, I was consigned, and through her industry and skill, I was soon rendered

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neat and pretty looking a baby as need to be seen.” Such, at least, was the opinion of all my visiters, who declared unanimously, that I was vastly handsome, and separately, that I was the very image of my father, mother, grandfather, and aunt Dorothy.

My nurse, being naturally proud of having so promising an infant under her charge, was resolved, from the very outset, that nothing should be omitted on her part, which could in any way prove essential to my future welfare. In pursuance of this resolution, she adopted a variety of salutary measures, and one of the most important, as she conceived, was to search my head minutely every night and morning ; for it was long a practice in the neighbourhood of Turkeytown, to keep a vigilant look-out for the first traveller which ventured to explore the cranial regions of a new-born infant, and place him religiously between the leaves of the family Bible. This was believed to be wonderfully efficacious in preserving the future citizen from the wiles of the evil one, and imbuing his or her mind with pious principles. In this case, the sacred animal did not make his appearance until the thirty-third day after my birth, and he had probably scarce time to turn himself, before he was secured (for want of a better receptacle) in my nurse’s thimble, and carried in triumph to my mother’s apartment. Mrs. Peters/^ said she, as the door opened, holding the back of a teaspoon tightly over the orifice of the thimble, and accompanying her words with a smile of sagacity and importance, —

Mrs. Peters ! pray, where is the big Bible?”

My nurse, in her haste, did not, at first, perceive that there was company in the room with my mother, and in despite of the interest she felt, she could not help feeling a little abashed, when, upon turning round, she beheld the portly figure of Dr. Lavender, who was there upon a visit. This latter personage was my grand uncle by my mother’s sidej he was a good humoured but whimsical old gentleman, of a dignified and commanding aspect, and always wore his hair powdered, and tied up in a long queue. In the course of his practice he had found that nurses, and old women in general, very often interfered with the regular course of his prescriptions, and were sometimes troublesome in proffering their advice when it was not wanted. He had, accordingly, conceived a sovereign contempt for the opinions of the whole tribe, and as he had probably a pretty good idea of the scene which was to follow, his countenance assumed a sneering, satirical expression, upon the entrance of Mrs. Simons, which caused the good lady to blush up to the very eye-brows. As for my mother, she was just in that state when a person is said to be neither

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sick nor well. The principal symptoms of illness consisted in pettishness, and a little shortness of temper, both of which were displayed in her answer, or rather counter interrogation, short as it was.

The big Bible!’’ said she, what in the world, Becky, can you want with the big Bible?”

Mrs. Simons advanced, and partially uncovered the thimble, for my mother to look into it; it is the first one,” said she, and a big fellow it is, too; I can’t conceive where the child could have catched it.”

The light was unfavourable in this position, and my mother could not see the bottom; so, whilst the nurse was speaking, she took the thimble into her own hand, for the purpose of examining its contents to better advantage. A single glance, it appeared, was sufficient; for an inversion of the fore-finger and thumb which held it, immediately followed, and the poor louse was at once precipitated into the fire.

What is all this foolish nonsense about,” said she; ^^what do you bring the dirty thing here for.”

My nurse made no answer to this whatever. So great was her grief and concern, at beholding all the beneficial results of her anxious labours thus wilfully blighted, that she held up both her hands, and only exclaiming, ^‘Heaven protect my poor child!” ran out of the room in such haste, that she had nearly overturned my father, who was just entering at the door. What can be the matter with the silly woman ?’’ said my mother to the doctor, when she had gone.

Hum!” said he, with an ironical smile, ‘^you are not aware, then, that you have committed a most woful piece of sacrilege? The animal you have just committed to the flames, as insignificant as it seemed, was, in the opinion of the nurse, the tutelary genius of your son Jeremy; and it is to be feared that all the evils and misfortunes, which shall hereafter afflict him through life, will be attributable to this unlucky act.^^

My mother, when the matter was thus explained, did not feel quite so well satisfied with the course she had adopted. She looked at my father, and after stating the case, desired his opinion upon the subject.

Now, my father, good man, had a very peculiar turn of mind; and his assent to any given proposition depended upon so many contingencies, which never entered any head but his own, that it was extremely difflcult to conjecture in what light he might be disposed to regard it. When he had once adopted an opinion, however, he would twist and stretch it, and pile rubbish around it, with an ingenuity that Aristotle himself could scarcely have equalled. As to common sense, the errand jade was eternally thrusting herself in his way, and thwarting some

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of his favourite projects and theories; so he made it a rule to pay as little regard to her as possible.

When not engaged in these subtilties, he occupied himself principally in collecting clam shells, and fishes’ teeth, dug out of neighbouring marl pits, or in some similar pursuits, that might happen to be his hobbies for the time: but what is most important to our present purpose, he chanced, about this period, to be engaged in forming a collection of all the popular notions and prejudices he could lay hold of; and the first thing he did in this instance, was to make a note of it in his pocket-book; then, having prepared himself by a preliminary hem! he answered my mother as follows: ‘‘I think, my dear, U is best to conform to popular prejudices, at least when we can do so without inconvenience to ourselves; and this, not because I fear that any misfortune or untoward event would be the consequence of our refusal, but because the existence, continuation, and prevalence of these practices, greatly facilitate the researches of those who take an interest in penetrating into the more obscure and hidden recesses of human nature. If these little prejudices had never existed, or if they were forgotten and done away with, the world, it is true, might be neither better nor worse off than at present, but a great deal of curious and valuable information would infallibly have been lost.

B

With respect to the one under our present consideration, it appears to me to be not only perfectly harmless, but really, a very pretty, curious little notion; — by the way, I am surprised it never came under my notice before. What might have been its cause and origin, and whether there is, or is not, some moral or historical allusion couched under it, I am at present unable to determine; but my opinion, my dear, is, that it would have been better if you had not proceeded quite so hastily/^

“ You advocate the continuance of these absurd customs, then,^^ said the doctor, ‘‘ merely because some persons take a pleasure in collecting and recording them: all this would be mighty well if they were really as harmless as you seem to imagine; but such is not the fact, as I have good reason to know by my own experience. I cannot enter the chamber of a patient, without meeting a thousand of them ; and, in fact, the nurses and old women are filled with them to such a degree, that I have sometimes been almost ready to declare, it would be doing a real service to our species to procure their banishment entirely, and the employment of men only in attendance upon the sick. They might prove rough nurses,’’ continued he, addressing my mother, but they would at least be manageable. I would have them tutoreJ like the loblolly boys

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on board a man of war, who, when an order is given, have no other answer than aye, aye, sir.’^

This discourse, whatever effect it had in convincing my mother of the feasibility of the proposed change in the medical department, completely settled my father in his opinion ; for though he might previously have had some doubts, the first symptom of opposition determined him, at once, to defend the cause of his prejudices against all assailants.

The doctor was every whit as fond of an argument as my father. He had met him upon many a hot field of contention before, and being a plain matter of fact man, he frequently threw stumblingblocks in the way of his antagonist, which gave him an infinite deal of trouble and perplexity; but to do my father justice, he generally managed to get round them in one way or another; at least, he was never known to give in. On this occasion he was particularly well prepared, having just finished an elaborate preface to accompany the first volume of his collection of prejudices. Both parties, therefore, prepared themselves for the contest, and the argument promised to be as memorable as any that ever happened in the annals of discussion, for each of the combatants had entrenched himself upon favourite ground, and was prepared to defend it to the very last extremity.

It is full time, however, we had looked after the nurse, who left the room in such agitation, that she may by this time have hanged, or drowned herself, or committed some such desperate action.

Chapter III

Containing some excellent advice to nurses, which is exemplified hy the quarrel and reconciliation between Mrs. Simons and Mrs. Pots, and the consequences to myself,

Mr nurse, after leaving my mother’s apartment, went immediately — where ? to the orchard — the fish pond— the garret window ! — no, no, don’t anticipate me, if you please — she went immediately into the nursery, and after ascertaining that I was fast asleep, proceeded from thence into the kitchen, to superintend the decoction of a bowl of pap.

In most families, especially in the case of a first child, as it was my luck to be, the nurse is a person of considerable importance; holding a kind of middle station, between the mistress and the other servants. The only one of the latter who ever thinks of aspiring to the same level with her, is the cook, and she, only within the precincts of her own proper dominions, the kitchen. Here, indeed, she

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may be said to reign predominant, not only over all housemaids and scullions, but even over the mistress herself, who is only allowed to enter at certain limes, and look round upon the proceedings, by special favour and courtesy. I would, therefore, recommend all nurses to cultivate a good understanding with the cook, as by that means the affairs of the family will certainly go on with much greater harmony. Mrs. Simons was very well aware of the truth of this maxim, but her mind, unfortunately, was so taken up with her own troubles, that she either did not hear or did not understand the salutation that was uttered by Mrs. Pots at her entrance; whereat, that dignitary felt herself grievously offended.

Becky, without speaking to, or probably thinking of any one, set herself about mixing the due proportions of arrow-root, milk, and sugar, in a saucepan, and then directed it to be set down by the fire to boil.

This was just the opportunity that Mrs. Pots was waiting for. The pap can’t be made now, Mrs. Simons,” said she, the fire’s full.” “ It will not take up much room, Mrs. Pots,” said my nurse, a few coals in the corner, or any where.”

‘^The coals are all wanted for the beef-steaks, and you see the corners are both full of pots and skillets,” interrupted the cook, shortly; busying

B 2 herself at the same time in probing a chicken that was boiling for my mother, with a look and action, that said as plainly as if she had taken an oath to that effect; ‘^you shan’t have a single speck of fire, to bless yourself with, Mrs. Simons! that I’m resolved on.”

Now, many nurses would have taken fire at this, and there would have been the very devil to pay, directly, but Becky was all kindness and good nature. Though ignorant in what manner she had given offence, she recollected .that ‘a soft word turneth away wrath,’ and one fortunately coming into her head at this moment, she made use of it.

Ah! Mrs. Pots,” said she, ‘^if you knew what has happened to my poor child, I’m sure you would let me boil his pap.” Bless me!” exclaimed the cook, withdrawing her fork from the back of the chicken, and placing the point upon the ball of her thumb. Whether there is any thing in the nature of forks, or the manner in which they are made use of, that has a sedative effect upon the human passions, I am not prepared to say, but it is a fact, that the harder Mrs. Pots pressed the points upon the ball of her thumb, the less inclination did she feel to enter into a quarrel with my nurse. The struggle, however, was for a moment nearly equal; curiosity joined upon one side, offended dignity

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upon the other. The affair was settled by a compromise.

Bless me!’^ said she, “ I would rather the beef steaks were burnt to a cinder, than the child should come to any harm; but when you come into my kitchen, Mrs. Simons, you ought to treat me with respect, and not decline to answer when I speak to you out of my politeness.’^

If I did,” said my nurse, holding up both her hands to enforce the asseveration, heaven above knows, I did not intend it, Mrs. Pots.”

‘^Then we are friends again,” said the cook, ‘‘and now, my dear, tell me what has happened to little Jerry; you know how anxious I am to hear every thing about him!”

In this manner the whole business was amicably adjusted, and a place cleared for the saucepan without further difficulty ; but, if the quarrel had lasted for a twelvemonth, T verily believe I should have been the gainer, and I do not know that I can conclude this chapter more profitably to the reader, than by making him acquainted with the reasons. Amongst the faculties I evinced when quite young, I had one in common with many other children, that of crying very often, and very lustily. The causes of this I have never been able perfectly to investigate; so that, whether it was owing to a quantity of straps and bandages, with which they thought proper to envelop my abdominal viscera, in order to keep every thing in its proper place, or to something else, I cannot at present determine, but my nurse always concluded it was for want of something to eat.

Poor little Jerry,” she would say, ‘^how hungry it is!” and instantly my mouth was stopped with a spoonful of arrow-root, or tapioca. I must have had a glorious appetite in this way, for the quantity required to keep my mouth shut, amounted to about a quart per diem; so that, if I had not fortunately possessed another faculty for returning it upon her hands nearly as fast as she administered it, I should infallibly have been choked to death out of sheer kindness.

Now, the advantage I should have gained by the quarrel between my nurse and Mrs. Pots, supposing it had lasted a twelvemonth, and the latter had held out stoutly during all that time, and allowed no pap to come near the fire, is simply this; I should have been spared the trouble of pumping up about ninety-one gallons and some odd pints in the course of that period.

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Chapter IV

How Mrs. Pots went into a brown study, and by that means found a remedy for the evils with which I was threatened, in the very nick of time.

It is curious to observe the different effects which an account of the same thing will have upon different persons ; and there is no better example upon record than this very affair, which my nurse has just been recounting to Mrs. Pots. When my father heard it, he noted it down in his pocket-book ; when I heard it myself, I scratched my head j when the reader hears it, I cannot tell what he may do ; but when Mrs. Pots heard it, she immediately set herself down by the chimney corner, and went into a brown study.

Mrs. Simons took this opportunity to stir up the pap, which done, and finding Mrs. Pots still absorbed in her reverie, she drew up a rush-bottomed chair, and sat down beside her.

Now, I will venture to say, there is no place under heaven so favourable for contemplation as a kitchen fire-side; the gentle simmering of the pots, the hissing of the beef-steaks, the sputtering of the tea-kettle, and especially, madam, if you have a spare scullion to scrub an accompaniment on a copper-kettle, there is nothing like it in nature. The purling rills, the gushing fountains, the quivering leaves, which some lass-lorn swains will talk to you about, are no more to be compared to it, than a rusty nail to a gridiron.

The best chapter in this whole book, (I leave the reader to exercise his judgment in guessing which it is) I wrote with one foot on the mantel-piece, and the other on the andiron, whilst Jenny Jobson was roasting clams on the fore-stick.

At length Mrs. Pots slowly raised her head from her hand. It was unlucky,’^ said she.

^^It was very unlucky,’^ replied my nurse.

But not so bad as if it had been cracked,^^ said Mrs. Pots.

‘‘ I hope, indeed, it was not,” said my nurse.

‘‘ Was it all burned up?” said Mrs. Pots.