A Political Romance/Postscript

by Laurence Sterne

POSTSCRIPT.

I Have broke open my Letter to inform you, that I miss'd the Opportunity of sending it by the Messenger, who I ex­pected would have called upon me in his Return through this Village to York, so it has laid a Week or ten Days by me.

———I am not sorry for the Disappoint­ment, because something has since hap­pened, in Continuation of this Affair, which I am thereby enabled to transmit to you, all under one Trouble.

When I finished the above Account, I thought (as did every Soul in the Parish) Trim had met with so thorough a Rebuff from John the Parish-Clerk and the Town's Folks, who all took against him, that Trim would be glad to be quiet, and let the Matter rest.

But, it seems, it is not half an Hour ago since Trim sallied forth again; and, having borrowed a Sow-Gelder's Horn, with hard Blowing he got the whole Town round him, and endeavoured to raise a Disturb­ance, and fight the whole Battle over again:—That he had been used in the last Fray worse than a Dog;—not by John the Parish-Clerk,—for I shou'd not, quoth Trim, have valued him a Rush single Hands:—But all the Town sided with him, and twelve Men in Buckram set upon me all at once, and kept me in Play at Sword's Point for three Hours together.—Besides, quoth Trim, there were two misbegotten Knaves in Kendal Green, who lay all the while in Ambush in John's own House, and they all sixteen came upon my Back, and let drive at me together.—A Plague, says Trim, of all Cowards!—Trim repeated this Story above a Dozen Times;—which made some of the Neighbours pity him, thinking the poor Fellow crack-brain'd, and that he actually believed what he said. After this Trim dropp'd the Affair of the Breeches, and begun a fresh Dispute about the Reading-Desk, which I told you had occasioned some small Dispute be­tween the late Parson and John, some Years ago.

This Reading-Desk, as you will observe, was but an Episode wove into the main Story by the Bye;—for the main Affair was the Battle of the Breeches and Great Watch-Coat.—However, Trim being at last driven out of these two Citadels,—he has seized hold, in his Retreat, of this Reading-Desk, with a View, as it seems, to take Shelter behind it.

I cannot say but the man has fought it out obstinately enough;—and, had his Cause been good, I should have really pi­tied him. For when he was driven out of the Great Watch-Coat,—you see, he did not run away;—no,—he retreated be­hind the Breeches;—and, when he could make nothing of it behind the Breeches,—he got behind the Reading-Desk.—To what other Hold Trim will next retreat, the Politicians of this Village are not agreed.—Some think his next Move will be towards the Rear of the Parson's Boat;—but, as it is thought he cannot make a long Stand there,—others are of Opinion, That Trim will once more in his Life get hold of the Parson's Horse, and charge upon him, or perhaps behind him.—But as the Horse is not easy to be caught, the more general Opinion is, That, when he is driven out of the Reading-Desk, he will make his last Retreat in such a Manner as, if possible, to gain the Close-Stool, and defend him­self behind it to the very last Drop. If Trim should make this Movement, by my Advice he should be left besides his Cita­del, in full Possession of the Field of Battle;—where, 'tis certain, he will keep every Body a League off, and may pop by himself till he is weary: Besides, as Trim seems bent upon purging himself, and may have Abundance of foul Humours to work off, I think he cannot be better placed.

But this is all Matter of Speculation.—Let me carry you back to Matter of Fact, and tell you what Kind of a Stand Trim has actually made behind the said Desk.

"Neighbours and Townsmen all, I will be sworn before my Lord Mayor, That John and his nineteen Men in Buckram, have abused me worse than a Dog; for they told you that I play'd fast and go-loose with the late Parson and him, in that old Dispute of theirs about the Reading-Desk; and that I made Matters worse between them, and not better."

Of this Charge, Trim declared he was as innocent as the Child that was unborn: That he would be Book-sworn he had no Hand in it. He produced a strong Wit­ness;—and, moreover, insinuated, that John himself, instead of being angry for what he had done in it, had actually thank'd him. Aye, Trim, says the Wight in the Plush Breeches, but that was, Trim, the Day before John found thee out.—Besides, Trim, there is nothing in that:—For, the very Year that thou wast made Town's Pinder, thou knowest well, that I both thank'd thee myself; and, moreover, gave thee a good warm Supper for turning John Lund's Cows and Horses out of my Hard-Corn Close; which if thou had'st not done, (as thou told'st me) I should have lost my whole Crop: Whereas, John Lund and Thomas Patt, who are both here to testify, and will take their Oaths on't, That thou thyself wast the very Man who set the Gate open; and, after all,—it was not thee Trim,—'twas the Blacksmith's poor Lad who turn'd them out: So that a Man may be thank'd and rewarded too for a good Turn which he never did, nor ever did intend.

Trim could not sustain this unexpected Stroke;—so Trim march'd off the Field, without Colours flying, or his Horn sound­ing, or any other Ensigns of Honour whatever.

Whether after this Trim intends to rally a second Time,—or whether Trim may not take it into his Head to claim the Vic­tory,—no one but Trim himself can inform you:—However, the general Opi­nion, upon the whole, is this,—That, in three several pitch'd Battles, Trim has been so trimm'd, as never disastrous Hero was trimm'd before him.