University of California • Berkeley From the Library of Charles Erskine Scott Wood and his Wife Sara Bard Field Given in Memory of JAMES R.CALDWELL ^ yriii: ^ ) urixo or Tin: regoars ,^-^ i\^ntaniinif hij Luc A nicuojiaiy of the C.-uit Laiigiio^ ^ iind many i-ntcttti hu'no* Jttarticidars I of that i-.n/vonfi/id/y j\Lin. .\nin»- I'.'dition coiTccted jE-thucIl /rap-ored. « 'V TV. Salter /(t'<7Y^/i. ShtrK^mc Iivm.- ,<.t/i.rfiu/^ Pivntouth v Dock. THE LIFE AND ABVENTUJRES OF BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. ' Mil, Bampfylde-MooreCarew was descended from the ancFent family of the Carews, son of the Reverend Mr. Theodore Carew, of the parish of Brickley, near Tiverton, in (he county of Devon; of Tvhich parish he was many years a rector, very much esteemed while living, and at his death unw versally lamented. Mr. Carew was born in 'the month of July, 1693 ; and never was there known a more splendid appearance of gentlemen and ladies of the first rank and quality at any baptism in the west of England, than at his : the Honourable Hugh Bampfylde, Esq* who afterwards died of an un- fortunate fall from his horse, and the Honourable Major Moore, were both his illustrious godfathers, both of whose names he bears; who some time con- landing^ who should be the president, doubtless a3 LIFE AND ADVENTiJIlES OF Mr. Carew's family and early connections. presaging the honour that should redound to them from the future actions of our hero, the affair was determined by throwing up a piece of money, which was won by Mr. Barapfylde ; who upon this ac- count presented a large piece of plate, whereon wa« engraved, in large letters, BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. The reverend Mr. Carew had several other chil- dren, both sons and daughters, besides Mr. Carew, all of whom he educated in a tender and pious manner ; and Mr. Carew was at the age of twelve sent io Tiverton school, where he contracted an intimate acquaintance with some ypung gentlemen of the first rank in Somersetshire, Devonshire, Coru- wall, and Dorsetshire. It has been remarked by great men, that there h a natural propensity in the mind of a reader to be inquisitive about the person of the hero whose ac- tions they are reading ; and authors in general have been so sensible of the power of this curiosity, that it has long been a custom for them to present their readers with their own pictures in the front of their works, with the design, doubtless, of pre- possessing their readers in favour of them, by the marks of wisdom and ingenuity in their countenance ; thus, not to mention any other instances, those two great authors, Mr. Dilworth and Mr. Dyche, havo both indulged the work with their pictures before their ingenious spelling books. We cannot but m BAMPPYLDK-MOORE CARBW. His persou described, and studies. eoramend this custom as a very fair and candid one ; for what reader wpuld buy an author, if his coun- tenance declared him a blockhead, did we not sus- pect the engraver is so kind to the author as to put greater marks >visdom and ingenuity in his counte- nance, than nature ever bestowed upon him.* This desire then of being informed of the per- son of heroes being so natural, we should be guilty of a great neglect, should we omit satisfying our rea- ders in this respect, more particularly as we can^ without making use of a figure in rhetoric, (which i» of very great service to many authors,) called am- plification; or, in plain English, enlarging, present our readers with a very amiable picture. The stature of our hero was tall and majestic, his limbs strong and well-proportioned, his features regular, his countenance open and ingenuous, bear- ing all those characteristical mafks which physi- ognomists assert denote an honest and good-natured mind ; for which we refer to his portrait. During tlie first four years of his continuance at Tiverton school, his close application to and delight in his studies gave his friends great hopes that he might one day make a good figure in that honour- able profession which his father became so well, and for which he was designed. ♦ The two authors above-mentioned acted very candidly In pub- lishin/^ (heir pictures while alive, that the world might be enabled to Judge of the ikill and impartiality of the cngraTcr. LIF^ AND ADVENTURES OP Mr. Carew's early fondness for hunting. He attained, for his age. a very considerable knowledge in the Latin and Greek tongues ; but soon a new exercise or accomplishment engaged all his attention ; this was that of hunting, inwhicli our hero soon made a surprising progress ; for, be- sides that agility of limb and courage requisite for leaping over five-barred gates, &c. our hero, by- indefatigable study and application, added to it a remarkable clieering halloo to the dogs, of very great service to the exercise, and wTiich we believe was peculiar to himself; and, besides this, found out a secret, lutherto known but to himself, of eat ticing any dog whatever to follow him. The Tiverton scholars had at this time the cora*» mand of a fine cry of hounds, whereby Mr. Carew liad frequent opportunity of gratifying his inclina^ lions in that diversion. It was then that he entered into a very strict friendship and familiarity with John Martin, Thomas Coleman, John Escott, and other young gentlemen of the best rank and for- tune. The wise Spaniards have, we think, a proverb, Tell me who you are zinthy and 1 will tell you what you are ; and we ourselves say, That birds of a feather flock together. It is generally allowed that proverbs are built upon experience, and contain great truths; and though at this time very young, he contracted no acquaintance, and kept no company, but with young gentlemen of birth and fortune, who were rather superior to himself than beneath him BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CARE>T. A complaint made to his school-master. It happened that a farmer, living in a countj adjacent to Tivcr^fon, who was a very great sports" man, and used to hunt with the Tiverton scholars, came and acquainted them of a Gi\e deer, wliich be had seen with a collar about his neck, in the fields about his farm, which he supposed ta be the fa- vourite deer of some gentleman not far off: this was very agreeable news to the Tiverton (scholars, who, with Mr. Carew, John Martin, Thomas Cole- man, and John Escott, at their head, went in a great body to hunt it ; this happened a short time before the harvest. The chase was very hot, and lasted se* veral hours, and they ran the deer many miles, which did a great deal of damage to the fields of corn that were then almost ripe. Upon the death of the deer, and examination of the collar, it was found to be- long to Colonel Nutcombe, of the parish of Clay- hanger. Those farmers and gentlemen that sustained the greatest damage came to Tiverton, and com- plained very heavily to Mr. Rayncr, the school- inaster, of the havock made in their fields, which occasioned strict enquiry to be made concerning the ringleaders, who, proving to be our hero and his companions, they were so severely threatened, that, for fear, they absented themselves from school; and the next day, happening to go in the evening to Brick-house, an alehouse about half a mile frona Tiverton, they accidentally fell in company with a society of gipseys^ who were tlwre feasting and lirE AND ADX^ENTURES OF He meets with a company of gipseys. carousing. This society consisted of seventeen or eighteen persons of both sexes, who that day nlet there with a full purpose of merriment and jollity ; and after a plentiful meal upon fowls, ducks, and other dainty dishes, the flowing cups of October, cider, &c. went most cheerfully round, and merry songs and country dances crowned the jovial ban- quet ; in short, so great an air of freedom, mirth, and pleasure, appeared in this society, that our youngsters from that time conceived a sudden in- clination to enlist into their company ; which, when they communicated to the gipseys, they, consider- ing their appearance, behaviour, and education, regarded as only spoke in jest ; but, as they tarried there all night in their company, and continued in the same resolution the next morning, they were at length induced to believe them to be serious, and accordingly encouraged them, and admitted Ihem into their number; the requisite ceremonials be- ing first gone through, and the proper oaths ad- ministered. The reader may perhaps be surprised at the mention of oaths administered, and ceremonials used, at the entrance of these young gentlemen ; but his surprise will lessen when we inform him, that these people are subject to a form of govern- ment and laws peculiar to themselves, and though they have no written laws, by which means they avoid all perplexity with lawyers, yet they pay obedience to one who is stiled their king ; to BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. Customs of the gipseys desc* ibed. which great honour wc shall hereafter see our hero arrive, haying first proved himself worthy of it, by a great number of necessary atchieve- raents. There are, perhaps, no people so completely liappy as (hey are, or enjoy so great a share of liberty. The king is elective by the whole people, but none are allowed to stand as candidates for that honour, but such as have been long in their so- ciety, and perfectly studied the nature and institu- tion ot it ; they must likewise have given repeated proofs of their personal wisdom, courage, and ca- pacity ; this is the better known, as they always keep a public record or register of all remarkable (either good or bad) actions performed by any of the society; and they can have no temptation to make choice of any but the most worthy, as their king has no titles or lucrative employments to be- Btow, which might influence or corrupt their judg- ment. The only advantage the king enjoys is, that he is constantly supplied with whatever is necessary for his maintenance, from the contribution of his people; whilst he, in return, directs all his care to the defending and protecting his people from their enemies, in contriving and planning whatever is most likely to promote their welfare and happiness, in seeing a due regard paid to their laws, in regis- ter iog their memorable actions, and making a due A3 10 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Ab?emblies, htv ts, and conduct of the ^ipseys. report of all these things at their general assemblies ; so Ihaf, perhaps, at this time, it is amongst these people only tliat the office of a king is the same as it was at its first institution ; viz. a father and pro- tector of his people. The laws of these people are few and simple, but most exactly and punctually observed; the funda- mental of which is, that strong love and mutual re- gard for each member in particular, and for the ■whole community in general, which is inculcated into them from their earliest infancy ; so that this whole community is connected by stronger bands of love and harmony, than oftentimes subsist even in private families under other governments : this naturally prevents all oppressions, fraud, and over- ifeachings of one another, so common^mongst other people, and totally extinguishes that bitter passion of the mind (the source, perhaps, of most other vices) envy ; for it is a great and certain truth^ thai Love worketh no evil. Their general meetings at stated times, which all are obliged to be present at, is a very strong cement of their love, and indeed of all their other virtues : for, as the general register of their actions, which we have before spoken of, is read at these meetings, those who have deserved well of the community, are honoured by some token or distinction in the $ight of all the rest ; and those who have done any tUirjg against their fundamental law3, have some BAMPFYLDK'MOORE CAREW. 11 Their contempt of riches. mark of ignominy put upon them ; for they have no high sense of pecuniary rewards, and they think the punishing of the body of little service towards amending the mind. Experience has shown them, that, by keeping up this nice sense of honour and shame, they are always enabled to keep their cona- munity in better order than the most severe corpo- real punishments have been able to effect in other governments. But what has still more tended to preserve their happinesses, that they know no other use of riches than the enjoyment of them; but, as the word is liable to be misconstrued by many of our readers, we think it necessary to inform them, we do not mean by it that sordid enjoyment which the raiser feels when he bolts up his money in a well- sccurcd iron chest, or that delicious pleasure he is sensible of when he counts over his hoarded stores, and finds they are increased with lialf a guinea, or even half a crown ; nor do we mean that enjoy- ment which the well-known Mr. K *, the man- cater, feels when he draws out his money from his bags to discount the good bills of some honest but distressed tradesman at fifteen or twenty per cent. * As it has been long a dispute among the learned and travel-^ lers, whether or no there are caiinibal:^ or nian-ealers existing, Jt. may seem soraething strange that we ^frould assert there is, beyofld ■til doubt, one of that spccieg often seen lurking near St. Paul*! n the city of London, aod other parts of that city, fteeking whum ke may de?our« 12 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF The property of the jjipseys a common stock. The people we are speaking of are happily ignorant of such enjoyment of money, for they know no other use of it than that of promoting mirth and good humour with it ; for which end they generously bring their gains into a common stock, whereby they whose gains are small have an equal enjoyment with those whose profits are larger, ex- cepting only that a mark of ignominy is affixed on those who do not contribute to the common stock proportionably to their abilities, and the opportu- nities they have of gain; and this is the source of their uninterrupted happiness ; for by this means they have no griping usurer to grind them, lordly possessor to trample on them, nor any envyings to torment them ; they have no settled habitations, but,, like the Scythians of old, remove from place to place, as often as their conveniency or pleasure re- quires it, which renders their life a perpetual scene of the greatest variety. By what we have said above, and much more that we could add, of the happiness of these people, and of their peculiar attacliment to each other, we may account for what has been matter of much surprise to the friends of our hero, viz, his strong attachment, for the space of above forty years, to this community, and his refusing the large offers that have been made to quit their society. — But to^ return to our history. Thus was Mr. Carew initiated into the mys- teries of u society, which for antiquity need give BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CARKW. 13 Our hero consulted res»pecting a lost treasure. place to none, as is evident from the name, which ^n Latin is called Egi/ptusy And in French Egt/p^ tienney thatlhcy derive their origin from the Egyp- tians, one of the most ancient and learned people ia the world, (though afterwards several other people imitated them ;) and that they were persons of more than common learning, who travelled io communi- cate their knowledge to mankind. Whether the divine Homer himself might not have been of this society, will admit of a doubt, as there is much un- certainty about his birth and education, though nothing more certain than that he travelled from place to place. Mr. Carew did not continue long in it before lie was consulted in important matters ; particularly Madam Musgrove, of Monkton, near Taunton, Bearing of his fame, sent for him to consult in an affair of difficulty. When he came, she informed kim, that she suspected a large quantity of money was buried somewhere about her house, and if he would acquaint her with the particular place^- she would handsomely reward him. Our hero consulted the secrets of his art upon this occasion^ and after long toil and study informed the lady, that under a laurel-tree in the garden lay the treasure she anxiously sought for ; but that her planet of good fortune did not reign till such a day and hour, till which lime she should desist from searching for it ; the good lady rewarded him very 14 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Mr. Carew ifjunis (o h\^ father's house. generously with (vveniy guineas for his disco verj. We cannot tell whether at this tintie our liero was sufficiently initiated in the art, or whether the lady mistook lier lucky liour, hut the strict regard we pay to truth obliges us to confess, that the lady dug below the roots of the laurel-tree without find- ing the hidden treasure. When he was further initiated in the art, he Avas consulted upon several important matters, and generally gave satisfaction by his sagacious answers. In the mean time his worthy parents sorrowed foe him as one that was no more, not being able to get the least tidings of him, though they publicly ad- vertised him, and sent messengers after him in every part ; till, at the expiration of a year and a half, our hero having repeated accounts of the sorrow and trouble his parents were in upon his account, hjs heart melted with tenderness, and he repaired to his father's house at Brickley, in Devonshire. As he was great disguised, both in habit and countenance, he tFas not at first known by his parents ; but when he discovered himself, joy gushed out in full streams,^ stopping the power of speecM : but the warm tears they bedewed his cheeks with, whilst they imprinted them with kisses, performed the office of the tongue with more expressive eloquence ; but the good heart and tender parent will feel this much better than we can describe. The whole neighbourhood, parti* cularly the two parishes of Caclley and Brickley^ BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 15 His presentiment for the grpsey lite^^ . • partook of this joy : and there was nothing for some time but ringing of bells, with public feasting, and other marks of festive joj. Mr. Carew's parents did every thing possible to render Lome agreeable to him ; every day he was engaged in some party of pleasure or other, and all his friends strove who should entertain him, so that there seemed nothing wanting to his happiness. But the uncommon pleasure he had enjoyed in the coramunily he had left, tlie freedom of tlieir go- vernment, the simplicity and sincerity of their man- ners, the frequent changes of their habitation, the perpetual mirth and good humour that reigned amongst them, and perhaps some secret presages of that higli honour which he has since arrived at; all these made too deep an impression to be eifaccd by any other ideas ; his pleasure therefore grew every day more and more tasteless, and he reliiihed Done of those entertainments which his friends daily provided for him. For some time these unsatisfied longings after the community of gipseys prej^ed upon his mind, his heart being too good to think of leaving his fond parents again, without reluctance. Long did filial piety and his inclinations struggle for the vic- tory ; at length the last prevailed, but not till his health had visibly suffered by these inward com- motions. One day, therefore, without taking leav6 of anv of his friends, he directed his steps toward* \6 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Mr. Carew rejoins the community o f the gipseys. Brick-hoiisc, at Tiverton, where he bad first en- tered inlo the community of the gipseys ; and find- ing some of them there, he joined their company? to the great satisfaction of them, as well as of him- self; they rejoiced greatly at having regained one "who was likely to be so useful a member to their community. We are now entering into the busy part of our hero's life, where we shall find liim acting in various characters, and performiag all with pro- priety, dignity, and decorum. — We sliall therefore rather choose to account for some of the actions of our hero^ by desiring the reader to keep in mind the principles of the government of the mendicants, which are, like those of the Algerines and other states of Barbary, in a perpetual state of hostility with most other people ; so that whatsoever strata- gems or deceits they can over-reach them by, are not only allowed by their laws, but considered as commendable and praise- worthy ; andy as the Al- gerines are looked upon as a very honest people by those who are in alliance with them, though they plunder the rest of mankind ; and as most other governments have thought that they might very honestly attack any weak neighbouring state, whenever it was convenient for them, and murder forty or fifty thousand of the human species; we hope, to the unprejudiced eye of reason, the govern- saent of the gipseys in general, and our hero as a BAM^FYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 17 His tirst expluits as a tstiipwifrked seaman. member of it, will not appear in so disadvanta- geous alight, for exercising a few stratagems to over-reach their enemies, especially when it is con- sidered they never, like other states, do any harm to the persons of their enemies, and nothing con- siderable to their fortunes. Our hero being again admitted at the first ge- neral assembly of the gipseys, and having taken the proper oaths of allegiance to the sovereign, was soon after sent out by him on a cruise upon their enemies. Our hero's wit was now set at work, by what stratagems he might best succeed. The first that occurred to bis thoughts was that of equipping himself with an old pair of trowsers, enough of a jacket to cover his nakedness, stockings such as nature gave, shoes (or rather the body of shoos, for soles they had none) which had leaks enough to sink a first rate man of war, and a Avoollen cap, so black that one might more safely swear it had not been washed since Noah's flood, than any electors can that they receive no bribes. Being thus attired, our hero changed his manners with his dress ; he forgot entirely his family, education, and polite- ness, and became neither more nor less than an un- fortunate shipwrecked seaman. Here, if we may be allowed to compare great things with small, we could wish that all orders of men were strict imitators of our hero; wo mean IS LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Advire to mankind on their einplovmeofs. > (hat they would put on the characteristics and qualifications of their employment, at the same time they invest themselves with the ensigns of it ; that ' the divine, when he puts on his sacred and venerable habit, would clothe himself with piety, goodness, gentleness, long-suffering, charity, temperance, con- tempt of filthy lucre, and other god-like qualifi- cations of his office ; that the judge, at the time he puts on his ermined robes, would put on righteous- ness and equity as an upper garment, with an in- tegrity of mind more white and spotless than the fairest ermirtc ; that the grave physician, when he puts on his large periwig, would put under it the knowledge of the human frame, of the virtues and effects of his medicines, of the signs and nature of diseases, with the most approved and experienced forms of cure; that the mechanic, when he puts on his leather and woollen apron, would put on dili- gence, frugality, temperance, modesty, and good nature ; and that kings themselves, when the crown,* which is adornc^ with many precious stones, is put on their heads, would put on at the same time the * At the coronation of the tings of England, before the Arch- bbbop puts the crown upon the king's head, he makes this prayer, holding the eroun in his hand ; — *' O God^ the crown of the faithful, wh(f crowneth their heads with precious stones that trust in thee, bless and sanctify this crown, that, as the same is adorned with many precious stones, so this thy servant, that weareth the same, may of thy grace be replenished with the manifest gift of all precioua virtues,*' &c* BAMPFYLDE MOORE CARF.\T. 19 Duties dra^n from the investments of kins;8. more inestimable gems of all the precious virtues ; that ih^y would remember at times, they were inyest- cd with the dalmatica* at their coronation, only as an emblem of the ornament of a good life and holy ac- tions; that the rodt they received was the rod of virtue and equity, to encourage and make much of the godly, and to terrify the wicked ; to show the way to those that go astray, and to offer the hand to those that fall ; to repress the proud, and to lift up the lowly ; and the sword;}: they were girt with, was to protect the liberties of their people, to defend and help widows and orphans, restore the things which have gone to decay^ maintain those which are re- stored, and confirm things that are in good order. ♦ When the Archbishop puts the dalmatica, or white robt itudded with purple, on the kin^, he makes the following prater: — ** O God, the King of kings, and Lord of lords ; by w fiom klngf do reign, and lawgivers do make good laws, vouchsafe in thy grace to bless this kingly ornament, and grant that thy servant, our king, who duth wear i(, may shine in thy sight with the ornament of a good life and holy actions," &c. f Wbeu the Archbishop delivers the rod with the dove into /* king's left hand, he «ays: — '* Receive the rod of virtue and jiily: lenrn to make much of the godly, and to terrify the eked: show the way to those that go astray, olTer the hand ) tho^e that fall, repress the proud, lift up the lowly,'' &c. t When the Archbishop delivers the sword into the king's right ' md, be says: — ** Receive this kingly sword* for the defence of II' faith of Chriat*s holy church, and with it exercise thou the rce of equity, and mightily destroy the growth of iniquity, pro- i the holy church of Ood, and his people : defend and help uluws and orphans; restore the things that are going to decay ; intain tho^e things which are restored ; be revenged of injustice^ . ! cuiifiriii IhiriiTs liiat are in jood order,'* 50 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Our hero assumes the character of a ruined farmer ; As to our hero, he so fully put on the charac- ter of a shipwrecked seaman, that in his first excur- sion he gained a very considerable booty, having likewise ingeniously imitated the passes and certifi- cates that were necessary for him to travel unmo- lested. After about a month's travel, he accidental- ly, at Kingsbridge, in Devonshire, met with Cole- man, his school-fellow, one of those who entered with him into the community, as before related, but had, after a year and a halfs abode, left them, and returned to his friends : however, not finding that satisfaction among them as with the gipseys, he had again joined that people : great was the joy therefore of these two friends at their meet- ing, and they soon agreed to travel together for some time; and according proceeded to Totness, from thence to the city of Exeter, where they raised a contribution in one day amounting to se- veral pounds. Having obtained all he could desire from this stratagem, his fruitful invention soon hinted ano- ther. He now became the plain honest country farmer, who, living in the Isle of Sheppy, in Kent, had the misfortune to have his grounds overflowed, and all his cattle drowned. His habit was now neat but rustic ; his air and behaviour simple and inoffensive ; his speech in the Kentish dialect; his countenance dejected ; his tale pitiful, nay won- drous pitiful ; a wife and seven helpless infants be- BAMPPYLDE-MOORE CAREW. and qualifies himself to become a rat-catcher. ing i^artakers of his misfortunes ; in short, never did that excellent actor, Mr. Garrick, personate an j character more just, nor did he ever raise stronger emotions of pity in the character of the unfortu- nate good king Lear, than our hero did under this ; so that if his. former stratagem answered his wishes, this did still more so, he now getting seldom less than a guinea a day. Having raised a very considerable booty by these two stratagems, he made the best of his way towards Straton, in Devonshire, where was soon to be held a general assembly of the gipseys : here he was received with great applause, on account of the successful stratagems he had executed, and he had an honourable mark of distinction bestowed upon him, being seated near the king. Though our hero, by means of these stra- tagems, abounded with all the pleasures he could desire, yet he began now to reflect with himself on that grand and noble maxim of life, that we arc not bom for ourselves only, but indebted to all man- kind, to be of as great use and service to them, as our capacities and abilities will enable us to be : he therefore gave a handsome gratuity to an expert and famous rat-catcher (who assumed the honour of being rat-catcher to the king, and produced a patent for the free exercise of his art) to be initiated into that, and the still more useful secret of curing madness in dogs or cattle* 5t LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Mr. Carew's liberal notions of soc iety. Our hero, by his close application, soon at- tained so considerable a knowledge in his profession, that he practised with much success and applause, to the great advantage of the public in general, not confining the good effects of his knowledge to his own comniunity only, but extending them univer- sally to all sorts of people, wheresoever they were wanted ; for, though we have before observed that the mendicants are in a constant state of hostility with all other people, and Mr. Carew was as alert as any one in laying all manner of schemes and stratagems to carry off a booty from them ; yet he thought, as a member of the grand' society of human kind, he was obliged to do them all the good in his power, when it was not opposite to the interest of that particular comniunity of which he was a member. Mr. Carew's invention being never at a loss, he now formed a new stratagem ; to execute which, he exchanged his habit, shirt. Sec, for only an old blanket ; shoes and stockings he laid aside, because they did not suit his present purpose. Being thus accoutred, or rather unaccoutred, he was now no more than *'Poor Mad Tom, whom the foul fiend Lad led through fire and through flame^ through ford and whirlpool, over bog and quagmire, that hath laid knives under his pillow, and halters in his pew, set ratsbane by his porridge, made hira proud at heart to ride on a bay trotting horse over* BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 25 He app<'-:rs it) tin» character ofanaaniac. four-inch bruli^es, to curse his own shadow tor a traitor; who eats the swimming frog, the toad, the tadpole, the wall- newt and the water- newt ; that in the furjof his heart, when the foul fiend rages, swal- lows the oUl rat and ditch dog, drinks the greea mantle off the standing pool ; And mice and rals, and such small geer^ Have been Tom's food for seven long year. ^* O do, de, do, de, do, de ; bless thee from whirl- wind, star-blasting, and taking: do poor Tom some charity, whom the foul fiend vexes ; there could I have him now, and there and there again, and th^re ; through the sharp hawthorn blows the* cold Avind ; Tom's a-cold ! who gives any thing to poor Tom r" In this character^ and with such like expressions, our hero entered the house both of great and small, claiming kindred to them, and committing all manner of frantic actions : such as beating himself, offering to eat coals of fire, run- ning against the wall, and tearing to pieces what- ever garments were given him to cover his naked- ness; by which means he raised very considerable contributions. But these different habits and characters were still of farther use to our hero, for by their means he had a better opportunity of seeing the world, and knowing mankind, than most of our youths who make the grand tour ; for, as he had none of Ihose petty amusements and raree-shows, which so 24 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF T he con tradictory practices of the world detailed^ much divert our young gentlemen abroad, to en- gage his attention, it was wholly applied to the study of mankind, their various passions and in* clinations ; and he made the greater improvement in his study, as in many of his characters they acted before him without reserve or disguise* He saw in little and plain houses hospitality, charity, and compassion, the children of frugality ; and found under gilded and spacious roofs, littleness, uncha- tableness, and inhumanity, the offspring of luxury and riot : he saw servants waste their master's sub- stance, and that there were no greater nor more /crafty thieves than domestic ones ; and met with masters who roared out for liberty abroad, acting the arbitrary tyrant in their own houses : — he saw ignorance and passion exercise the rod of justice ; oppression, the hand-maid of power ; self-interest out- weighing friendship and honesty in the oppo- site scale; pride and envy spurning and tramp- ling on what was more worthy than themselves; — he saw the pure white robes of truth sullied with the black hue of hyprocrisy and dissimulation; he sometimes, too, met much riches unattended by pomp and pride, but diffusing themselves in num* berless unexhausted streams, conducted by the hand of two lovely servants. Goodness and Bene- ficence : — and he saw honesty, integrity, and good- ness of mind, inhabitants of the humble cot of po- verty. All these observations afforded him no little BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 2S Mr. Carew and Mr. Escott sail to Newfoundland. pleasure, but lie felt a much greater in the indul- gence of the emotions of filial piety, paying his pa- rents frequent visits, unknown to them, in different disguises ; at which time, the tenderness he saw them express in their inquiries after him (it being their constant custom so to do of all travellers) al- ways melted him into r^al tears. It has been remarked, that curiosity, or the de- sire of knowledge, is that which most distinguishes man from the brute, and the greater the miud is, the more insatiable is that passion : we may, with* out flattery, say no man had a more boundless^ one than our hero ; for, not satisfied with the obser- vations he had made in England and Wales, (whicli we are well assured were many more than are usually made by gentlemen before the travel into foreign parts,) he now resolved to see other countries and manners. He was the more inclin- ed to this, as he imagined it would enable hini to be of greater service to the community of which lie was a member, by rendering him capable of executing some of his stratagems with much greater succoss. lie communicated this design to his school-fellow Escott, one of those who commenced a gipscy with him, (for neither of the four wholly quitted that community.) Escott very readily ngreed to accompany him in his travels, and there being a vessel ready to sail for Newfoundland, lying at Dartmouth, where they then were, they agreed to 26 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Description of Newfoundland, «S?^. embark on board her, being called the Mainsail, commanded by Captain Holts worth. Nothing re- markuble happened in their passage which re- lates to our hero ; we shall theretore pass by ity and land him safe in Newfoundland. This large island ivas discovered by Sebastian Cabot, who was sent to America by Henry the Vllth. king of England, in the year J4975 to make discoveries. It is of a triangular figure, as big as Ireland, of about SCO leagues in circuit, sepa- rated from Canada or Now France on the conti- nent to the north, and Nova Scotia to the south, by a channel of much the same breadth as that between Dover and Calais. It lies between 46 and 50 de- grees of north latitude. It is not above 1800 miles distant from the Land's-end of England. It has many commodious bays along the coast, some of them running into the land towards one another 20 leagues. The climate is very hot in summer and cold in the winter, the snow lying upon the ground four or fivc months in the year ; the soil is very barren, bearing little or no corn, being full of mountains and impenetrable forests ; its meadows are like heath, and covered with a sort of moss instead of grass. Our hero, nevertheless, did not spend his time uselessly, .or even without entertainment, in thisun- comtortable country ; for an inquisitive and active mind will find more use and entertainment among barren rocks and mountains, than the indolent per* BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. ^7 Sonte ar<'0 LM?E AND ADVENTURES OF Mr. C^arew*s adventure at Squire Porlman^. distance, and there passed for one wiio had been burnt out ; and to gain credit, showed a paper signed- >yith the names of several gentlemen in the neigh- bourliood of tke place where the fire happened, re- conimending him as an honest unhappy sufferer, by which he got considerable sums* Under this, character, he had once the boldixess to address Jus- tice Hall, of Exmouth, in Devorr, the terror and professed enemy of every order ofthegipseys ; how- ever, our hero managed so artfully . (though he went through a strict examination,) thai he at last con- . vinced his worship that he was an honest miller,, whose house, mill, and wliole substance,. had been consumed by fire, occasioned by the negligence ofan apprentice boy, and was accordingly relieved as such by the justice. Coming one day to Squire Portraan's, at Brinson, near Blandlord, inthecha- racter of a rat-catcher, with a hairy cap upon his head, a buff girdle about his waist, and a tame rat ill a little box by his side^. he boldly marched \jp to the house in this, disguise, though his per- son was well known by the family, and meeting in the court with Mr. Portman, the Keverend Mr. Bry- ant, and several other gentlemen whom he well knew, but did not suspec.i he should be known by them, he accosted them as a rat-catcher, asking if their honours had any rats to kill. Uo you under- stand your business well ? replied Mr. Portman, Yes, and please your honour ; I have followed it many years, and have been employed in his Ma- BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 41 He is discovered disguised as a ntt-catcher. jesty's yards and ships. Well, go in and get some- thing to eal ; and after dinner we will try your abilities* Our hero was again accordingly placed at the second table to dinner, and very handsomely entertained ; after which he was called into a great parlour, among a large company of gen- tlemen and ladies. Well, honest rat-catcher^ said Mr. Portraan, can you lay any schemes to kill the rats without hurting my dogs ? — Yes, replied Mr. Carew, I shall lay it where even cats can't climb to reach it. — And what country- man are you ? — A Devonshire man, please your honour. — What's your name ? Our hero now per- ceiving by the smiles and whispering of the gentle- men, that he was known, replied very composedly, B, a, m, p, f, y, 1, d, e,.M, o, o, r, e, C, a, r, e, w. This occasioned a good deal of mirth ; and Mr. Carew asking what scabby sheep had infected the whole flock I was told^ Parson Bryant was the man who had discovered him, none of the other gentle- men knowing him under this disguise : upon which, turning to the parson, he asked him, If he had for- gotten good King Charles's rules ! Mr Pleydell, of St. Andrew's, Milbourn, expressed a pleasure at seeing the famous Mr. Bampfylde-Moore Carew, saying, he had never seen him before/ Yes, but you have, replied he, and gave me a suit of clothes. Mr. Pleydell testified some surprise at this, and de- sired to know when it was. Mr. Carew asked him,. 42 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Mr. Pl;n'rit»!l learn? thetrirk Carew had plaved upon him. it' he did not tmh' mber a poor wretch met him one day at his stable-door, with an old stocking round JUS head instead of a cap, and an old woman's ragged mantle on his shoulders, no shirt on his back, nor stockings to his legs, and scarce any shoes on his feet ; and that he asked him if he was mad ? to which he replied, No ; but a poor unfortunate man, cast away on the coast, and taken up, with eight others, by a Frenchman, the rest of the crew, sixteen in number, being all drowned; and that Mr. Pleydell having asked what countryman he was, gave him a guinea and a suit of clothes* Mr, Pleydell said he well remembered such a poor object. Well, replied our hero, that object was no other than the ral -catcher now before you : at which all the company laughed very heartily* Well, said Mr. Pleydell, I will lay a guinea! shall know you again, come in what shape you will:, the same said Mr. Seymour, of Handford. Some of the company asserting to the contrary of this, they desired our hero to try his ingenuity upon them, and then to discover himself, to convince them of it. This being agreed upon, and having received a handsome contribution of this company, he took his leave; but Parson Bryant followed him out, and acquainted him that the same company, and raany more, would be at Mr. PleydelFs on such a day, and advised him to make use of that oppor- tunity to deceive them altogether ; which our hera BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CARRW. JHe drceives a party at Mr. Plcydell's. soon resolved io do. He therefore /evolved in his mind v/hat stratagem was most likely to succeed : at length he fixed upon one, which he thought could not fail answering his purpose. When the day was come, the barber was called in to make his face as smooth as his art could do^ and a woman's gown and other female accoutre* ments of the largest size were provided for him. Having jumped into his petticoats, pinned a large dowde under his chin, and put a high -crowned hat on his head, he made a figure so comical that even Hogarth's humour can scarcely ixarallcl ; yet our hero thought himself of something else to render bis disguise more impenetrable : he therefore bor- rowed a little hump-backed child of a tinker, and two more of some others of his community. There remained now only in what situation io place the children, and it was quickly resolved to tie two to his back, and to take the other in his arms. Thus accoutred, and thus hung with helpless infants, he marched forwards for Mr. Pleydeirs; coming up to the door, he put his hand behind him^ and pinched one of the children, which set it a roaring ; this gave the alarm to the dogs, so that between their barking and the child's crying, the whole family was sufficiently disturbed. Out came the roaid, crying. Carry away the children, old woman, they disturb the ladies. God bless their ladyships, 1 am the poor unfortunate grandmother to these poor helpless infants, whose dear mother 44 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Mr. Carew appears djs^ulsed as an old woman. and all they had was burht at the dreadful fire at Kirton^ and hope the good ladies, for God'^ sake, ^vill bestow something on the poor famishing starv- ing infants. This moving story was accompanied with tears; upon which, the maid ran in to ac- quaint the ladies with this melancholy tale, while the good grandmother kept pinching one or other of the childraii, tliat they might play their parts to great- er perfection; the maid sooaxreturned with half-a- crown from the ladies, and some good broth, which he went into the court-yard to eat, (understanding the gentlemen were not in the house,) and got one of the under-servants, whom he met, to give some to the children an his back. He had not long been ^Iherc, before the gentlemen all came in together, who accosted him with, Where did jou come from, old woman ? ,From Kirton, please your honours, where the poor unhappj mother of these helpless babes was burnt to death by the flames, and all they had consumed. D n you, said one of the gen- tlemen, (who is well known by the name of Worthy Sir, and was particular!}' acquainted with Mr. Ca- rew,) there has been more money collected for Kirton than ever Kirton was worth ; however, he gave this good old grandmother a shilling, the other gen- tlemen likewise relieved her, commiserating her age, and her burden of so many helpless infants ; not OJie of them discovering our hero in the old woman, who received their alms very thankfully, and pre- tended to go away t but the gentlemen were not got BAMPFYJL.DE-MOORE CARBW. 45 and discovers himself to his beneTactors. into the house before their ears were- saluted with a taniivi/^ tantini/^ and halloo to the dogs, upcTn which (hey turned about, supposing it to be some brother sportsman, but seeing nobody, Worthy Sir swore the old Avoman they had relieved was Carew ; a servant therefore was dispatched to bring her back ; and she %vas brought into the parlour among the gentlemen, where, being examined, she confessed herself to be the famous Mr. Bampfyldc -Moore Carew, which made the gentlemen very merry, and they were now all employed in untying the children from his back, and observing the features and dress of this grandmother, which afforded them suf^cient entertainment. They afterwards rewarded our hero for the mirth he procured them. In the same manner he raised a contribution of Mr. Jones, of Ashton near Bristol, twice in one day, who had maintained, with a gentleman of his acquaintance, that he could not be so deceived. J a the morning, with a sooty face, leather apron, ii dejected countenance, and a woollen cap, he was generously relieved as an unfortunate blacksmith, whose all had been consumed by fire : in the af- ternoon he exchanged his legs for crutches; his countenance was now pale and sickly, his gestures very expressive of pain, his complaints lamenta- ble, a poor unfortunate tinner, disabled from main* * taining himself, a wife, and seven children, by the damps and hardships he had suffered in the mines; and so well did he paint his distress, that the disa- 46 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF At BjitJi our hero l)ecu(iifs .'i poor ciipplc. bled tinner was now as generously relieved as the unfortunate blacksniiHi had been in the raorninfr, o Being now near the city of Bath, where he had not long before made so great a figure with his new married bride, he was resolved to visit it in a very different shape and character; he there- fore tied up one of his legs behind him, and sup- plied its place with a wooden one, and putting on a false beard, assumed the character of a poor old cripple. In this disguise he had an oppor- tunity of entertaining himself with the different receptions he met with from every order of men now, from what he had done before in his fine clothes. The rich, who before saluted him with their hats and compliments, now spurned him out of their way ; the gamesters overlooked him, think- ing he was no fish for their net ; the chairmen, instead of Please your honour, d d him ; and the pumpers, who attentively marked his nod be- fore, now denied him a glass of water. Many of the clergy, those disciples of humility, looked upon him with a supercilious brow ; the ladies too, who had before strove who should be his partner at the balls, could not bear the sight of so shocking a creature: thus despised is poverty and rags, tliough sometimes the veil of real merit; and thug caressed and flattered is finery, though perhaps a covering for shame, poverty of soul, and abandoned profligacy. One character alone vouchsafed to look upon this contemptible object ; the good naau BAMPFYLDE-MOORR CARKVv'. 4? He practices upoti ihe Duke of Boltoii. looked upon him with an eye meltinfr into tender- ness and soft compassion, \vhile at the same time the hand, which was stretched out to relieve bim, showed the heart felt all the pan«:s whicli it supposed him to feel. But, notwithstanding the almost general contempt, he raised very considerable contribu- tions ; for, as some tossed him money out of pride, others to get rid of his iinportunity, and a few, as above, out of a ^ood heart, it amounted to no small sum by the end of the season. It is almost unnecessary to inform ihe reader, s of the old kiii^ lo his s-ubjects. day, and his iiaal dihsolulioa approach, he called tog-ether all his chiklreii, to the number of eigh- teen, and summoned as many of his subjects as were within a convenient distance, being willing that the last spark of his life should go out in the service of his people ; tliis summons was obeyed with heavy hearts by his loving subjects, and, at the day and place appointed, a great number as- sembled together. Th« venerable old king was brought in a higU chair, and placed in the midst of them, his chil- dren standing next to him, and his subjects behind ihem. Reader, if thou hast ever seen that fa- mous picture of Seneca,* bleeding to death in the bath, with his friends and disciples standing round him, then raayest thou form some idea of this as- sembly; such was the lively grief, such the pro- found veneration, such the solemn attention, that appeared in every countenance ; but wc can give tliee no adequate idea of the inward joy which the. good old king felt at his seeing such unfeigned ' marks of love in his subjects, which he considered as so many testimonies of his own virtues; forcer- tain it is, that, when kings are fathers of their people, their subjects will have for them more than tnc (ili.il love or veneration of sons. The mind of man cannot conceivcany things© august, as that of aking beloved by hi> iubjrcts. Could kings but taste this pleasure at f A picture in the possestttion of the eaii^f Kxeter, at hU seat ucar Stamford, ia Liocolosbire* 56 LIFE ANB ADVENTURES OF He divides his property among his people, their first mounting the throne, instead of drinking of the intoxicating cap of power, we should see them considering their subjects as children, and themselves the fathers to nourish, instruct, and pro- vide for them, as a flock, and themselves the shep- herds io bring them to pleasant pastures, refreshing streams, and secure folds. — For some time the king - of the mendicants sat contemplating these emotions of his subjects, then bending forwards thus ad- dressed them : " Children and friends, or rather may I call yon all my children, as I regard you all with a pa- ternal love, I have taken you from your daily em- ployments, that you may all eat and drink with me before 1 die. I am not courtier enough yet^ however, to make my favours an honest loss to my friends ; but, before you depart, the book shall be examined, aud every^one of you shall receive from my privy purse the same sum that you made by your business this day of the last week. Let not this honest act of generosity displease my heirs, it is the hist waste I shall niake of their stores r the rest of what I die possessed of is theirs by right, but my counsel, though directed to them only, shall be of public good to all. The good success, my dear children, with which it has pleased heaven to bless my industry in this our calling, has given rae the power of bestowing one hundred pounds on each of you, a small but improvable fortune; and of most use, as it is a proof that every one of you BAMPFYLDE-MOORR CARKW. 57 ^ nd c ounsels them in promoting their deceptions. may gain as much as the whole, if your own idle- ness or vice prevent it not ; mark by what means ! Our commun*i(y, like people of other professions, lives upon the necessities, the passions, or the weak- nesses, of their fellow-creatures. The twa great passions of the human breast are vanity and pity ; both these have great power in raen^s actions, but the first the greater far, and he who can attract these tile most successfully, will gain the largest fortune. "There was a time when rules for doing this were of more worth to me than gold ; but now I am grown old, my strength and senses foil me^ and I am past being an object of compassion. A real scene of affiction moves few hearts to pity ; dissembled wretchedness is what most reaches the human mind, and 1 am past dissembling. Take therefore among you the maxims I have laid down for my own guide, and use them with as much success as I have done. " Be not less friends because you are brothers, •r of the same profession ; the lawyers herd together in their inns ; the doctors in their college ;. the mercers on Ludgate-hill ; and the old clothes-men ki Monmouth'Street ; what one has not among these another has; and among you the heart of him who is not moved by one lamentable object,, will pro- bably be so by another ; and that charity which was half awakened by the first, will relieve a second or a third. Kemembcr this, and always people a c 3 58 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Patch's knowledge of busine^ss displayed» with ■\rhole street with objects skilled in scenes of dif- ferent distress, placed at proper distances : the talc that moves not one heart, may surprise the next ; the obdurate passer by of the first must be made of no human matter if he feels no part of the distress that twenty difTerent tales have heaped together ; and be assured, that, where it is touched with a kindred misfortune, it Avill bestow. ** Remember, that, where one gives out of *pjty to you, fifty give out of kindness to themselves, to rid them of your troublesome application; and for one that gives out of real compassion, five hundred do it out of ostentation. On these principles, trouble people most who are most busy, and ask relief where many see it given, and you'll succeed in your attempt. Remember that the streets were made for people to walk, and not to converse in j keep up their ancient use ; and whenever you see two or three gathered together, be you amongst them, and let them not hear the sound of their owa voices, till they have bought off the noise of yours. When self-love is thus satisfied, remember social Tirtue is the next duty, and tell your next friend Tvhere he may go and obtain the same relief by the iSame means. " Trouble not yourselves about the nobility ; prosperity has made them vain and insensible ; they cannot pity what they can never feel. *« The talkers in the street are to be tolerated on diilcrent conditions, and at different prices 3 if BAMPFYLBE-MOORE CAR2W, 59 the best means to open the heart and the purse. they are tradesmen, their conversation will soon end, and may be well paid for by a halfpenny ; if an inferior clings to the skirt of a superior, he will give twopence rather than be pulled off; and when you are liappy enough to meet a lover and his mistress, never part with them under sixpence, for you may be sure they will never part from one another. ** Sq much regards communities of men ; but when you hunt single, the great game of all is to be plaj-ed. However much you ramble in the day, be sure to have some street near your home, where your chief residence is, and all your idle time is spent. Here learn the history of every family, and whatever has been the latest calamity ; of that provide a brother or a sister that may pretend the same^ If the m.aster of one house has lost a son, let your eldest brother attack his compassion on that tender side, and tell him that he has lost the sweet- est, hopefullest, and dutilullcst, child, that was his onl}' comfort ! what would Ike answer be, but, Aye, poor fellow, 1 know how to pity Ihce in that ; and a shilling will be in as much haste to fly out of his pocket as the first tear from his eye. *' Is the master of a second house sick, way- lay his wife from morning to night, and tell Iier you will pray morning, noon, and night, for hi^ re- covery. It he dies, grief is the reigning passion for the first fortnight, let him have been what he would ; grief leads naturally to compassion, so let your 60 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF The terms to h«> used in addre.^^sins' certain persons. sister thrust a pillow under her coats, tell her she i& a poor disconsolate widow, left with seven small childreti, and that she lost the best husband in the tvorld ; and you may share considerable gains. '^ Whatever people seem to want, give it them largely, in your address to them ; call the beau sweet gentleman, bless even his coat or per- riwig, and tell him they are happy ladies where he is going. If you meet with a school-boy cap- tain, such as our streets are full of, call him noble general/ and if the miser can be a»y way got to strip himself of a farthings it will be by the name o{ charitable sir* ^^ Some people show you i» their looks the whole thoughts of their heart, and give you a fine notice how to succeed with them ; if you meet a sorrowful countenance with a red coat, be sure the wearer i$ a disbanded officer ; let a female always attack him, and tell him she is the widow of a poor marine, who had served twelve years, and then broke his heart because he was turned out without a penny ; if you see a plain man hang down his head as he comes out of some nobleman's gate, tell him. Good worthy sir, I beg your pardon, but I am a poor ruined tradesman that once was in good business, but the great people would not pay mcv And if you see a pretty woman with a dejected look, send your sister that is at hand, to com- plain to her of a bad husband, that gets drunk and beats her ; that runs to whores, and has spent all BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 6l How to boff of singlf or piegn.int ladies, SiC. her substance ; there are but two things that can make a handsome woman melancholy, the having a bad husband, or the having no husband at all; if the first of these is tlie case, one of the former crimes will touch her to the quick, and loosen the strings of her purse ; in the other, let a second dis- tressed object tell her she was to have been married well, but that her lover died a week before ; one way or other the tender heart of the female will be melted, and the reward will be handsome. If you meet a homely, but dressed-up lady, pray for her lovely face, and beg a penny ; if you see a mark of delicacy, by the drawing up of the nose, send some- body to shew her a sore leg, a scalded head, or a rupture. Jf you are happy enough to fall in with a tender husband leading his big wife to church, send companions that have but one arm, or two thumbs, or tell her of some monstrous child you have brought forth, and the good man will pay you to begone ; if he gives slightly it is but following, getting before the lady, and talking louder, and you may depend upon his searching his pocket to better purpose a second time. There are many more things of which 1 have to speak, but my feeble tongue will not hold out. Profit by these ; they will be found sufficient, and, if they prove to you, my children, what they have been to me these eighteen years, I shall not repine at my dissolution." Here he paused for some time, being almost spent ; thcD^ recovering bis voice and spirits^ he thus be< 62 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF The death #f the sip>ey king. gan again : " As 1 find the lamp of life is not qiii^e extinguished, I shall employ the little that remains in saying a few words of ray public conduct as your king. I call heaven to witness, that 1 have loved you all with a paternal love ; these now feeble limbs and broken spirits have been worn out in pro- viding for your welfare ; and often have these dim eyes watched while jou have slept, with a father's care for your safety. I call you all to witness, that 1 have kept an impartial register of yoor actions, and no merit has past unnoticed. 1 have with a most exact hand divided to every man his due por- tion of our common stock, and have had no worth- less favourite nor useless ofticer to €at the honey of your labour. And for all these I have had my re- ward, in seeing the happiness, and having the love, of all m}^ subjects. I depart therefore in peace, to rest from my labours ; it remains only that 1 give you my last advice, which is, that, in choosing my successor, you pay no partial regard to my family, but let him only that is most worthy rule over you." He said no more, but, leaning back in his chair, expired without a sigh. Never was there a scene of more real distress, or more unfeigned grief, than now appeared among his children and subjects. Nothing was heard but sighs and exclamations for their loss. When the first transpbrts of their griefs were over, they sent the sorrowful news to all the houses that were frequented by their community in every part of the BAMPFYLDE-MOORR CAREW. ^3 An apostrophe to I,ihcrt.>\ kingdom ; at the same time summoning tbcm to ri> pair to the city of London on a certain day, in order to the election of a new king. Before the day appointed for the election, a vast concourse of mendicants flocked from all parts of the kingtlom to the city of London; for every member of the community has a right to vote in the choice of their king, as they think it inconsistent with that of natural liberty, which every man is born heir to, to deny any one the privilege of making his own choice in a matter of so great im- portance. Here, reader, as thou wilt be apt to judge from what thou hast seen, thou already expectesta scene of riot and debauchery ; to see the candidates servilely cringing, meanly suing, and basely bri- bing the electors, depriving themselves of sense and reason, and selling more than Esau did for a mess of pottage ; for, what is birthright, what is in- heritance, when put in the scale against that choicest blessing, public liberty ! O Liberty ! thou tmiivenev of life, thou solace of toils, thou patron of virtue, thou encourager of industry, thou spring of justice, thou sf>mething more than life beyond the reach of fancy to describe, all hail ! it is thou that bcaniest the sunshine in the patriot's breast; it is thoa that sweetenest the toil of the labouring mechanic ! thou dost inspire the ploughman with Ivis jocund mirtb, and thou tunest the merry milk- UMid's soDg ; thou canst make tbe desert smilej and 64. LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Liberty the life of every scene! the barren rock to sing for joy : by thy sacred pro- tection he poorest peasant lies secure under the shadow of his defenceless cot, whilst oppression at a distance gnashes with her teeth, but dares not show her iron rod ; and power, like the raging billows, dashes its bounds with indignation, but dares not overpass thera. — But where thou art not, how changed the scene ! how tasteless, how irksome labour ! how languid industry ! Where are the beautious rose, the gaudy tulip, the sweet- scented jessamine ? where the- purple grape, the luscious peach, the glowing nectarine? where- fore smile not the va'lleys with their beauteous verdure, nor sing for joy with their golden har- vest ? AH are withered by the scorching sun of law- less power ! Where thou art not, what place so sa- cred as to be secure ? or who can say, this is my own ! This is the language only of the place where thou del igh test to dwell; but, as soon as thou spreadest thy wings to some more pleasing clime, power walks abroad with haughty strides, and tramples upon the weak, whilst oppression, with its heavy hand, bows down the unwilling neck to the yoke. — O my Coun- try ! alas, my Country ! thou wast once the choseu seat of liberty ; her footsteps appeared in thy streets, thy palaces, thy public assemblies ; she exulted ia thee : her voice, the voice of joy and gladness, was heard throughout* the land ; with more than a mo- ther's love she held forth her seven-fold shield ta protect tbcCj the me^c&t Qi hex sons ; >Ybilst justice^ BAMPPYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 63 Sobriety of the gipseys at elections. ' supported by law, rode triumphant by her side with awful majesty, and looked into fear and trembling every disturber of the public quiet. O thou whom my soul loveth^ wherefore do 1 now seek thy foot- steps in vain ? Wherefore dost thou sit dejected, and hidest thy face all the day long ? — Canst thou ask the reason of ray grief? See, see, my generous hardy sons are become foolish, indolent, effeminate, thoughtless ; behold, how with their own hands they have loaded me with shackles ; alas ! hast thou not seen them take the rod from my beloved sister. Justice, and give it the sons of blood and rapine ? Yet a little while I mourn over lost and de- generate sons, and then with hasty flight fix my habitation in some more happy clime. Though the community of the gipseys at other times give themselves up to mirth and jollity with perhaps too much license, yet nothing is reckoned more infamous and shameful amongst them than to appear intoxicated during the time of an election, and it very rarely happens that any of them ar^ so, for they reckon it a choice of so much importance, that they cannot exert in it too much judgment, prudence, and wisdom ; they therefore endeavour to have tlicir faculties 'strong, lively, penetrating, and char, at that time. Their method of election is different from that of most other people, though perhaps it is the best contrived of any, and at- tended with the fewest inconveniences. We have already observed, that uona but those who have €6 IIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Method of electing a king of the Gipsey^. been long members of the community, are well ac- quainted with the institution of it, and have signa- lized themselves by some remarkable actions, are permitted to offer themselves candidates. These are obliged, ten days before the election, to fix up in some place of their public resort an account of those actions, upon the merit of which they found their pretensions of becoming candidates ; to which tliey must add their opinions on liberty, and the office and duties of a king. They must, during tliese ten days, appear every day at the place of election, that their electors may have an opportu- nity of forming some judgment from the lineaments and prognostics of their countenance. A few days before the election,^ a little white ball^ and as many black ones as with the white ones will equal the number of candidates, are given to each elector. When the day of election is come, as many boxes are placed as there are candidates, with the name of the particular candidates written on the box which is appropriated to him ; tlrcse boxes are quite closed, except a little opening at the top, which is every night, during the election, locked up under the keys and seals of each candidate, and of six of the most venerable old men in the commu- nity ; it is in the little opening at the top of these boxes, that the elector puts in the little ball we have just now mentioned ; at the same time he puts his white ball into the box of the candidate whom he chooses to be his king, be put a black ball into BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 67 Requisites for a auididate. the boxes of all the other candidates; and, when thej have all done so, the boxes are broken open, and the balls counted in pTescnce of all the can- didates, and of as many electors as choose it, by the old raen above-mentioned ; an^ he who has the great- est number of ^vhite balls is always duly chosen. By this means no presiding officer has it iii his pow- er to make one more than two, which sometimes happens ia the elections amongst other commu- nities, who do not use this form. There are other innumerable advantages attending this manner of election, and it is likely to preserve public li- berty the longest ; for, first, as the candidates arc obliged to fix up publicly an account of those actions upon the merit of which they became can- didates, it deters any but they who are truly worthy from offering themselves : and, as the sentiments which each of them gives upon public liberty, and the office and duty of a king, is immediately entered in their public register, it stands as a per- petual witness against, and a check upon, that candidate who is cliosen, to deter him from a change of sentiments and principles ; for, though in some countries this is known to hare little effect, and men have on a sudden, without any alteration ill the nature of things, shamelessly espoused those principles and sentiments which they had vehe* nicntly all their life before opposed, yet in this com- liHnity, where there is so high a sense of honour and shame kept up, it must necessarily be none of tho 6$ LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Mr. Carew elected King of the Gipseys. least binding obligations. Secondly, by this method of balloting, or giving their votes by balls, the elec- tor's choice is more free and unbiassed ; for, as none but himself can know the candidate he gives his "white ball to, there can be no influence of fear, inte- rest, ties of blood, or any other cause, to oblige him to give his vote contrary to his judgment ; even bribes, if they were known amongst these people, would lose their effect under this method of voting ; be- cause, few candidates would choose to bribe, when they could have no security or knowledge whether the bribed elector might have put a black ball in- stead of a white one into his box* Our hero was now one of the candidates, and exhibited to the electors so long a list of bold and ingenious stratagems which he had executed, and made so graceful and majestic an appearance in his person, that he had a considerable majority of white balls in his box, though there were ten candidates for the same honour ; upon which he was declared duly elected, and hailed by the whole assembly^ *King of the Mendicants. The public register of their actions being immediately committed to his care, and homage done him by all the assembly, the whole concluded with great feasting and rejoi- cing, and the electors sang the following ode ; BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. ^ The Ode saiij; u pon the great occasion. C^AST your nabs* and cares away, This is Maunders' holiday : In the world look out and see, Where so blest a king as He ! f II. At the crowning of our king. Thus we ever dance and sing; Where's the nation lives so free, And so merrily as we I ill. Be it peace, or be it war, Here at liberty we are : Hang all Harmenbecks,:|: we cry, We the Cuffin Queresjj defy* / IV. ^We enjoy our ease and rest. To the field we are not press'd ; And when taxes are increas'd, We are not a penny ^ess'd. V. ^ Nor will any go to law With a Maundert for a straw. All which happiness, he brag?, Is only owing to his rags. Though Mr. Carew was now privileged by the dignity of his office from going out on any cruise, and was provided with every thing necessary, by ♦ Hats or caps. + Pointing to the new made king.] t Constables. [j Justices of tbe peace, or churls. % A Beggar. 70 MFB AND ADVENTURES OF The sincerity of our hero's ait'ectian. joint contributions of the community, yet lie did not give himself up to the slow poison of the mind, indolence, ^vhich, though i(s operations are imper- , ceptible, is move hurtful and fatal than any of the quicker passions ; for we often see great virtues break through the cloud of other vices, but indo- lence is a standing corrupted pool, which always remains in the same state, unfit for every purpose. Our hero, therefore, notwithstanding the particu- lar privilege of his office, was as active in his stra- tagems as ever, and ready to encounter any diffi- culties which seemed to promise success, of which the following is an instance. Happening to be in the parish of Fleet, near Portland Race, in Dorsetshire, he heard in the evening of a ship in imminent danger of being cast away, she having been driven on some shoals. Early in the morning, before it was well light, he pulled off his clothes, which he flung into a deep pit, and then unseen by any one swam to the vessel, which now parted usunder ; he found only one of the crew alive, who was hanging by his hands on the side of the vessel, the rest being either washed overboard, or drowned in attempting to swim to the shore. - Never was there a more piteous object than this poor wretch hajiging between life and death ; Mr. Carew immediately offered him his assistance to get tiim to shore, at the same time enquiring the name of the vessel and her master, what cargo ou board, whence she came, and whither bound. BAMPFYLDE-iyiOORK CARKW. 71 H«* «i\vi»ns from n straiided ve>s('L The poor wretch rei)lio(J, she belonged (o Bristol, captain Griftiii, master, came from Hambro', was bound to Bristol with a car^o of Hambro' goods, and had seven men and a boy on board : at the same time our hero was pressin^^ him to let go his hold, and commit himself to his care, and he would endeavour to swim with him to shore : but, when the danger is so imminent, and death stands before our eyes, it is no easy matter to be persuaded to quit the weakest stay ; thus tlie poor wretch hesitated so long before he would quit his hold of the vessel, that a large sea broke upon the wreck, and overwhelmed him in the great deep. Mr. Carew was in no little danger, but, being an excellent swimmer, he with great difticulty got to shore, thotjgh not without hurt, the sea throwing him with great violence on the beach, whereby one of liis arms was wounded. By this time a great number of spectators were gathered on the strand, nho rejoiced to see Mr. Carew come to sliore alive, supposing him to be one of the poor wretches be- longing to the ship. Naked, spent witli fatigue, '\d wounded, lie raised a feeling of pity in all the spectators ; for, so strongly is this tender passion connected with our frame by the beneficent Author of Nature, to promote the assistance of each other, that, no sooner does the eye sec a deplorable ob- ject, than the heart feels it, and as quickly forces the hand to relieve it ; so that those whom the love of money, for we think that the greatest opposite 72 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF The couHvisspration of Mrs. Moliun. to pity, has rendered unteeling of another's woes, are said to have no hearts, or hearts of stone ; as wer naturally conclude no one can be void of that soft and God-like passion, pity, but either one who by some cause or other happens to be made up without a heart, or one in whom the con- tinual droppings of self-love or avarice, have quite changed the nature of it ; which, by the most skil- ful anatomist, is allowed in its natural state to be fleshy, soft, and tender ; but has been found, with- out exception, upon inspection into the bodies of several money-lovers, to be nothing but a callous stoney substance, from which the chemists, by most intense fires, have been able to extract nothing but a caput mortuum^ or an earthy, dry, useless, powder. Amongst the spectators of Mr. Carew, was the housekeeper of Madam Mohun, in the parish of Fleet, who had a heart made of the softest substance; for she immediately, agreeable to the beneficent precepts of the gospel, pulled off her own cloke to give to him that had none : and, like the good Samaritan, giving him a handker- chief to bind up his wounds, bid him follow her, and led him to her mistress's house, where, placing him before a good fire, s!ie gave him two large glasses of brandy, with loaf sugar in it ; then, bringing him a shirt and other apparel, she went up-stairs and acquainted her lady, in the mOst feeling man- ner, with the whole aifair.— Here, could we hope BAMPFYLDE-MOORK CAHEW. 75 Our hero receives a pass fro m Justice Farwell. our work would last to future ages, we might immortalize this good woman. — Her mistress was 80 affected with her relation, that she iramediate- Ij ordered a warm bed to be prepared for the poor wretch, and that be should be taken great care of, which was accord inglj soon done, and Mr. Carew lay very quiet for three or four hours ; then, waking, he seemed to be very much disturb- ed in his mind ; his talk was incoherent, his groan* moving, and he tossed from one side of the bed to tlie other, but seemed to find ease in none s the good people seeing him so uneasy in bed, brought him a good suit of clothes, and he got up. Being told the bodies of some of his ship- mates were flung up by the sea on the shore, h« leemcd greatly affected, and the tears dropped from his eyes. Having received from Justice Far- well, who happened to be there ill of the gout, a guinea and a pass for Bristol, and considerable contributions from the great number of people who flocked to see him, to the amount of nine or ten pounds, he expressed an inclination of making the best of his way to Bristol; and the good Jus- tice Farwell lent him his own horse to ride as far as Dorchester, and the parson of the parish sent his man to show him the way. Mr. Carew would have been gladly excused trom going through Dorchester, as he had appeared there but four or five days before in the charac- 74 LIFE AND ADYENTtJRES OF Mr. Carew raises contributions in Dt'vonshire. ter of a broken miller, and had thereby raised a contribution of the mayor and corporation of that place ; but, as it lay in the direct road to Bristol, and he was attended by a guide, he could not possibly avoid it. As soon as they came there, his guide presented the pass in behalf of Mr. Carew to the Mayor, who thereupon ordered the town-bell to be rung, and assembled the heads of the corporation. Though he had been so lately with them, yet, being now in a quite different dress, and a pass which they knew to be signed by Justice Farwell, and the guide testifying that he was an unfortunate shipwrecked seaman , escaped from the most imminent danger, they had no no- tion of his being the broken miller who had been with them a few days before ; they therefore treated him with great humanity, and relieved him very generously. After this, the guide took his leave of him, with a great many good wishes for his safe arrival at Bristol ; but Mr. Carew, instead of pur- suing his way thither, steered his course towards Devonshire, and raised contributions in the way, as a shipwrecked seantian, on Colonel Brown of Framton, Squire Trenchard and Squire Falford^ of Tolla, Colonel Broadrip, Colonel Mitchel, and Squire Richards, of Long Britty, and several other gentlemen. It was not long after this, that, being in the city of Bristol, he put" in execution a very bold and inge- BAMPFYLDB-MOOUE CAREW. 75 He assum es the name of Mr. C»ck. of Newfomidiand. nious stratagem. Callmgto raiiiil one Aaron Cock, a trader of considerable ^vor(h and note at St. John's in Newfoundland, whom he resembled both in per- son and speech, he resolved to be the son of Aaron Cock for some time; he therefore went upon the Tol- sey,' and other places of public resort for the mer- chants of Bristol, and there modestly acquainted them "with his name and misfortunes ; that he was born, and lived all his life at St. John's in'Newfoundland ; that lie was bound for England, in the Nicholas, Cap- ' tain Newman ; Avhich vessel springing a leak, they were obliged to quit her, and were taken up by an Irishman, Patrick Pore, and by him carried into Wa- terford ; whence he had got passage, and landed at King Road ; that his business in England was to buy provisions and fishing craft, and to see his relations, who lived in the parish of Cockington, nearTorbay, where his father was born. The captains Elton, Galloway, Masters, Thomas, Turner, and several other Newfoundland traders, many of whom person- ally knew his pretended father and mother, asked him many questions about the family, their usual place of fishing, &c. particularly if he remembered how the quarrel happened at his father's (when he was but a boy) which was of so unhappy a consequence to (iovernor Collins? Mr. Carew verj- readily replied, that, though he was then very young, he remember- ed that the governor, the parson and his wife. Ma- dam Short, Madam Bengy, Madam Brown, and se- d2 7-6 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Our hero's great seiiM? of honor. veral other women of St. John's, having met toge- ther, and feasting at his father's, a warm dispute happened among the men in the heat of liquor, con- cerning the virtue of women, the governor obstinately averring that there was not one honest woman in all -Newfoundland. What think jou then of my wife, «^id the parson ? The same as I do of all other wo* men, all whores alike, answered the governor rough* ly. Hereupon the women^ not able to bear this gross aspersion upon their honour, with one accord attack- ed the governor, who, being overpowered by their fury, could not defend his face from being disfigur- ed by their nails, nor his clothes from being torn off his back ; and, what was much worse, the parson's wife thinking herself most injured, cut the hamstring of his leg with a knife, which rendered him a crip- ple his whole life after. 'This circumstantial account, which was in every point exactly as the affair happened, and many other questions concerning the family which the captains asked him, and he as readily answered, (having got every particular information concerning them when he was atNewfoundland) fully convinced the captains that he must really be the son of their good old friend Mr. Aaron Cock ; they therefore not only very ge- nerously relieved him, but offered to lend him any moderate sum, to be paid again in Newfoundland the next fishingseason; butMr.Carew hadtoohigh asense of honour to abuse their generosity so far ; he there- fore excused himself from accepting their offer, by BAMPFYLDE-MOOHE CARF.W. T7 — J ... . ,» 1 ^ . Justice Leithbridge's s everity to the mendic«inls. saying, he could be furnished with as much as he should have occasion for, by merchant Peram of Ex- eter. They then took him with them to the Guild- hall, recommending him to the benevolence of the mayor and corporation, testifying he was a man of a reputable family in Newfoundland. Here a very handsome collection was made for him ; and the circumstances of his misfortunes becoming public, many other gentlemen andiadies gave him that as- sistance according to their abilities, which is always due to unfortunate strangers. Three days did the captains detain him by their civilities in Bristol, showing him all the curiosities and pleasures of the place, to divert his melancholy. He then set out for Cockington, where his relations lived, and Bridgewaterbeing his road, he had a letter from one of the Bristol captains to captain Drake in that placer. As soon as he came to Bridgewater, he went di- rectly to the mayor's house, and knocking at the gate, it was opened to him by madam mayoress, to whom he related his misfortune : and the good lady, pitying him as an unfortunate stranger so far dis- tant from his home, gave him half-a-crown, and engaged her daughter, a child, to givehim ashilling. We cannot pass by this amiable lady, without paying her the due tribute of praise ; for tender- . ness and compassion ought to be the peculiar orna- ment of every female breast ; and it were to be wished that every parent would betimes, like this good lady, in&til into their children a tender sense of humanity. 7S * LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF C Our Hero imprisoned by Ju«;tic«» LeiiUbrid^e^^ This activily and ingenuity of their new king was highly agreeable to the coraniunity of the Mendicants, and his applauses resounded at all their meetings ; but, as fortune delights to change the scene, and of a sudden to depress those she * had most favoured, we come now to relate the mis- fortunes of our hero, though we know not whether we should call them by that name or not, as they gave him a large field of action, «ind greater opportu- nities of exercising the more manly virtues — courage and intrepidity in dangers. Going one dny to pay a visit to Mr. Robert Jncledon, at Barnstaple in Devon, (in an ill hour, which his knowledge could not foresee,) knocking at the door softly, it was opened to him by the clerk^ with the common salutation of How do you do, Mr* Carcw? where have you been ? He readily replied, that he had been making a visit to Squire FJassar, and in his return Iiad culled to pay his respects to Mr. Incledon. The clerk very civilly asked him to walk in ; but no sooner had he entered than ilie door was shut upon him by Justice Le it!') bridge, a very bitter enemy to the whole community of mendicants, who concealed himself b^^hind it, and Mr. Garew was made prisoner, so sudden are the vici^biludcs of life; and misfortunes spring as ijt were out of the eai-th. Thus suddenly and unex- pectedly fell the mighty C£Esar, the master of the world ; and just so alTrighted Priam looked when so LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Amiable character of the Mavoress of Bristol. the shade of Hector drew his curtains, and told him that his Troy was taken. The reader will, undoubtedly, be at a loss to comprehend why he was thus seized upon, contrary to the laws of hospitality ; it is therefore our business to inform him, that he had, some time before this, in the shape of a poor lame cripple, frightened either the justice or his horse on Hilton-bridge : but which of the two it was, cannot be affirmed with any cer- tainty. However, the justice vowed a dire revenge, and now exulted greatly at having got him in hii power ; fame had no sooner sounded with her hun- dred prattling tongues that our hero was in cap- tivity, but the justice's house was crowded with in- tercessors for him : however, Justice Leithbridg« was deaf to all, and even to the entreaties of beauty, several pretty ladies being likewise advocates for him; whether it was that the justice was past thai age when love shoots his darts with most success ; or whether his heart was always made of that un- maileable stuff which is quite unassailable by love, or by his cousin-german, pityj wc cannot well de- termine. Amongst the rest who came to see him, were some captains of collier vessels, whom the justice espying, very probably taking some disgust at their countenances, demanded who they were, and im- mediately discharging the guard which had been before placed over Mr. Carew, charged the cap- tains with the care of him, though they affirmed BAMPPYLDD-MOORE CAREW. SI Mr. Carew brou ght to the quarter-sessions at Exeter. their vessels wereto sail the next tide ; however the justice paving as little regard to their allegations as he had done to their petitions for Mr. Carew, they found they had no other hope but from the good-natured dame Palience ; a good woman, who is always ready to render our misfortunes less, and was, in all his adventures, a great friend to our hero. At length a warrant was made out for convey- ing him to Exeter, and lodging him in one of the securest places in that city ; but, as it was now too late to set forward on their journey that night, they were ordered to a puhlic house at Barnstaple ; and the justice remembering the old proverb, fast hind^ fast find, would fain have locked the door of the room where Mr. Carew was, and taken the key with him ; but the honest landlord offering to become security for his appearance in the morning, the justice was at last persuaded to be content without the office of a jailor. Mr. Carew, notwithstanding his situation, was not cast down, but bravely op- posed his ill fortune with his courage, and passed the night cheerfully wkhthe captains, who were his guard. The next day he was conducted to Exeter, without any thing remarkable happening on the road : here he was securely lodged for more than two months, and then brought up to the quarter sessions held at the castle, when Justice Beavifi was chairman ; but that awful appearance^ d3 82 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OP A sen tence of transportation passed. ** The judges are all met — a terrible show !'* did not strike any terror into his breast ; though loaded witH chains, he preserved his usual firmness of mind, and saluted the court with a noble assu- rance. Being asked by the chairman what parts of the world he had been in ? he answered Denmark, Sweden, Muscovy, France, Spain, Portugal, New- foundland, Ireland, Wales, and some part of Scot- land. The chairman then told him he must proceed to a hotter comitry : he inquired into what climate, and being told Merrylandi he with great compo- sure made a critical observation on the pronuncia- tion of that word, implying, that he apprehended it ought to be pronounced Maryland^ and added, it would save him fiso^ pounds for his passage, as he was very desirous of seeing that country ; but, not-, withstanding, he with great resolution desired to ](now by what law they acted, as he was not accused of any crime ; however, sentence of banishment was passed upon him for seven years; but his fate was not singular, for he had the comfort of having fel- low companions enough in his suSerings, as, out of thirty-five prisoners, thirty-two were ordered into the like banishment.-r-^Whether at that period of time mankind were more profligate than usual, or whether there was a more than ordinary demand for men in his majesty's colonies, cannot by us be deter- mined. Mr. Carew was not, as is most commonly the case, deserted by his friends in adversity, forie was BAMPFYLDE MOORE CAREW. 83 Affliction of t Ue mendicants for th^ir kin d's misfortu nes. visited during (he time of his imprisonment by many gentlemen, who were exceedingly liberal to liim; and no sooner did the news of liis captivity reach Ihe^ears of his subjects, than they flocked to him from all parts, administered to his necessities in prison, and daily visited him till his departure. This, and the thoughts of the many new scenes and adventures which he was likely to encounter with, whereby he might have an opportunity of. making his name as famous in America as it was already in Europe, often filled his mind with too- pleasing reflections to regret his fate, though he could have liked to have performed the voyage under more agreeable circumstances; but, when- ever the thought of being cruelly separated from. his beloved wife and daughters glanced on his mind, the husband and father unmanned the hero, and melted him into tenderness and fear ; the reflection too of the damage his subjects might sustain by his absence, and the disorder the whole community would be put in by it, filled him with many dis- (quietudes. Thus, between pleasing ideas and heart- 11 It pangs, did he pass his time till the day ar- rived that he was to be conducted ou board the Julian, Captain Froadc, commander. But how, gentle reader, shaU i describe the ceremony of part- ing — the last farewell of that dreadful day ! Leaving the reader therefore to suppose all these fine things, behold the sails already spread^ aad the vessel cutting the waves ; but, as if fate had S4 LIFE AND ADVENTlJRKS OF Mr. Carew arrives at Maryland, opposed Kself to the banishment of our hero, the winds soon proved contrary, and they were obliged to stay more than a fortnight in Falmouth harbour for a fair wind, and thence were eleven weeks in their passage to Maryland* The first place they touched at was Hampton, between Gape Charles and Cape Henry, where the captain went on shore and got a pilot ; and after about two days stay there, the pilot brought the vessel down Mile's River, and cast anchor in Tal- bot county,- when the captain ordered a gun to be fired as a signal for the planters to come down^ and then went ashore. He soon after sent on board a hogshead of rum, and ordered all tire men prisoners to be close shaved against the next morning, and the women to have their best head-dresses put on, which occasioned no little hurry on board; for, between the trimming of beards, and putting on of caps, all hands were fully employed. Early in the morning the captain ordered public notice to be given of the day of sale ; and the prisoners, who were pretty near a hundred, were all ordered upon deck, where a large bowl of punch was made, and the planters flocked on board ; their first inquiry was for letters and news from old England, what passage he had, how their friends did, and the like. Xhe captain informed them of the war being declared against Spain, that it was expected it would soon be declared against France ; and that he had been eleven weeks and four days in his BAMPFVLDE-MOORE CAREW. 85 and oiects his fate with facetious fortitude. passage. Their next enquiry was, if the captain had brought tbcm good store of joiners, car- penters, blacksmiths, weavers, and tailors ; upon which the captain called out one Griffy, a tailor, who had lived at Chumleigh, in the county af Devon, and was obliged to take a voyage to Maryland for making too free with his neighbours' sheep ; two planters, who were parson Nicholas and Mr. Rolls, asked hini^ if he was sound wind and limb ? and told him it would be worse for him if he told (hem an untruth ; and at last purchased him of the captain. The poor tailor cried and bellowed like a bell-wether, cursing his wife who had betrayed him. Mr. Carew, like a brave man, to whom every soil is his own country, ashamed of his cowardice^ gave the tailor to the devil ; and, as he knew he could not do without them, sent his shears, thim- bh?, and needle, to bear him company. Wherefore all these wailings ? said our hero : have we not a fine country before us ? pointing to the shore. And indeed in this he was very right, for Maryland not only affords every thing which preserves and con. firms health, but also all things that arQ charming. The beauty of the prospect, the fragrancy of the fields and gardens, the brightness of the sky, and the serenity of the air, affect the ravished senses ; the country being a large plain, and hills in it so easy of ascent, nnd of' such a moderate height, that they seem rather an artificial ornament to it, than one of the accidents of nature. The abundance of 86 LIFIi AND ADVENTURES 01- One of the plnuters harpiins for Mr. Carcw, rivers and brooks is no little help to the fertility of the soil. But to return. — When all the best tradesmen -were bought up, a planter came to Mr. Carew, and asked him what trade Jie was of. Mr, Carew, to satisfy liim of Iiis usefulness, told liim he was a rat-catcher, a mendicant, and a dog-merchant.— What the d — r-l trades are these, replied the planter in astonishment, for 1 have never before heard of them ? upon which tlie captain, thinking he should lose the sale of him, takes the planter a little aside, and tells him he did but jest, ^eing a man of hu- mour, for that he was a great scholar, and was only sent over on account of having disobliged soipe gen- tlemen : that he had no indenture with him, but he should have him for seven years, and that he ^vould make an excellent school-master ; however, no purchase was made of him. The next day the captain asked him to go onshore with him to see the country, but with a view of getting a purchaser for him among the planters. As they were walking^ several people came up to Mr. Carew, and asked him what countryman he was, &c* At length they went to a tavern, where one Mr. David Huxter, who was formerly of Lyme in Dorset, and Mr. Ham- bleton a Scotchman, seemed to have an inclination to buy him between them ; soon after came in one Mr. Ashcraft, who put in for him too, and the bowl of punch went merrily round. In the midst of their mirth, Mr, Carew, who had gjvcn no BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. S7 who effects a temporai'v i^scape. __ consent to the bargain they were making For him, thought it no breach of honour or good manners to seize an opportunity of slipping away without taking any leave of them; and taking with him about a, pint of brandy and some biscuit cakes, which by good luck he chanced to lay his hand on, he immediately bfttobk himself to the woods as the only place of security for Iiim, Mr. Carew, having found he had eluded their search, congratulated himself on his happy escape and deliverance ; for he now made no doubt of get- ting to 0!d England again, notwithstanding thedif* ficulties which lay in his way, as he knew his cou- rage was equal to every danger ; but we are too often apt, as the proverb says, to reckon without our kostf and are sometimes near danger when we think ourselves most secure ; and so it happened to our hero at this time; for, amidst his joyful re- flections, he did not know that none were allowed to travel there, unless when known, without pro- per passes, of which he was not provided • and there is moreover a reward of j^5 for any one who apprehends a runaway ; it therefore hap* pened, thjit one morning early, passing through a narrow path, he was met by foiir timbermen, going to work ; he would fain have escaped their ob«rer» vation, but they soon hailed him ; and demanded where he was going, and where his pass was ? These were questions which he would willingly have been excused from answering ', however^ as bis wit was 58 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Colonel Justice Brown described, always ready, he immediately told Ihem he belonged to the Hector privateer, (which he knew then lay upon tlie coast,) and that he was going on some bu- sinss for the captain to Charles county : but, as he could produce no pass, this would not satisfy them ; so they seized upon him, and conducted him to one colonel Brown's, a justice of peace in Anne Arundel county. — But here, most gentle rea- der, that thou mayest not form a wrong idea of this justice, and, as is too often the case, judge of what thou hast not seen from what thou hast seen, it will be necessary to inform thee, that he was not such a one as Hudibras describes: An old dull sot, who told the clock For many years at Bridewell Dock, At Westminster, at Hick's Hall, And Hiccius Doccius play'd in all y ■ r. "Who, in all governments and times^ Had been both friend and foe to crfmes, And usM to equal ways of gaining, ' By hindering justice or maintaining. j>j Neither was he such a one as that excellent ar- tist Mr. Hogarth has depicted, in his picture of a Mo- dern Midnight Conversation ; nor such a one as the author of Joseph Andrews has, above all authors, so inimitably drawn to the life ; nor yet was he such a one as thou hast often seen at a quarter sessions, with a large wig, a heavy unmeaning countenance, and a sour aspect, who gravely nods over a cause, and then passes a decision on what he does not understand; and no wonder, when he perhaps BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. S3 before whom our hero was brought. never saw, much less read the laws of his country ; but of Justice Brown, I can assure the reader, he could not only read, but upon occasion write a mittimus, without the assistance of his clerk ; he was thoroughly acquainted with the general duties of his office, and the particular laws of Maryland ; his coun- tenance was an awful majesty, tempered with a humane sweetness, ever unwilling to punish, yet always afraid of offending justice ; and if at any time necessity obliged him to use the rod, he did it with so much humanity and compassion, as plainly indicated the duties of his office forced, rather than the cruelty or haughtiness of his tem- per prompted, to it; and while the unhappy crimi- nal suffered a corporeal punishment, he did all that lay in his power, to the end that it might have a due effect, by endeavouring to amend the mind with salutary advice ; if the exigencies of the state re- quired taxes to be levied upon the subjects, he ne- ver, by his authority or office, excused himself from bearing his full proportion; nor would he meanly submit to see any of his fellow-justices do so. It was before such a justice Mr. Carcw had the good fortune to be carried ; they found him in his court-yard, just mounting his horse to go out, and he very civilly inquired their business; the tinibcr-men told him they had got a run-away : the justice then inquired of Mr. Carew who he was : he replied he was a sea- faring man belonging to the Hector privateer of Boston, captain Anderson, 90 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF He is conveyed prisoner to New 'J'own, and as they could not agree, Jic had left the ship. The justice told him, he was very sorry it should Jiappen so, but he Mas obliged by the laws of his country to stop all passengers who could not pro- duce passes ; and that therefore, though unwillingly, he should be obliged to commit him ; he then en- tertained him very plentifully with victuals and drink, and in the mean time made his commitment for New-Town gaol. Mr. Carew, finding his com- mitment made, told the timber-men, that, as they got their money easily, *he would have a horse to ride on, for it was too hot for him to walk in that coun- try. The justice merrily cried, Well spoken, pri- soner. There was tlien a great ado with the timber- men to get a horse for him ; but at last one was pro- cured, and our hero, mounted on a milk-white steed, was conveyed in a sort of a triumph to New-Town^ the timber-men performing the cavalcade on foot. The commitment was directed to the under-sheriff in New Town, a saddler by profession, who imme^ diately waited on him to the prison ; he found it well peopled, and his ears were confused with almost as many dialects as put a slop to the building of Babel. Mr. Carew saluted them courteously, and inquired what countrymen they were : some were of Kilkenny, some Limcric, some Dublin, others of Somerset, Dorset, Devon, and Cornwall ; so that he found he had choice enough of companions^ and, as he. saw he had no remedy but patience, he endeavoured to amuse himself as well as he could. BAMPFYLDE-MOOHE CAREW. §1 and there meets several old neighbours. Looking lliroiigh the iron bars, be espied a whip^ ping-post and gallows, at which he turned to his com- panions, and cried out, A fine sight truly this is, my friends! which was a jest many of them could not relisli, as they had before tasted of tlic whipping ; looking on the other side, he sUw a fine house, and demanding whose it was, they told him it was the assembly-house. While he was thus amusing him- self, reflecting on the variety of his fate, fortune was preparing a more agreeable scene for him. A person coming up to the window, asked where tlie run-away was, who had been brought in that day, Mr. Carew composedly told him he was the man ; they then entered into discourse, inquiring of each other of what country they were, and sqpn found they were pretty near neighbours, the person that addressed him being one out of Dorsetshire. While they were talking, Mr. Carew, seeing the tops of some vessels riding in the river, inquired what place they belonged to. The man replied. To the west of England, to one Mr. Buck of Biddeford, to whom most of the town belonged. Our hero's heart leaped for joy at this good news, and he hastily asked if the captains Kenny, Hervey, Hopkins, and George Burd, were there ; the man replying in the affirma- tive, still heightened his satisfaction. Will you have the goodness to be an unfortunate prisoner's friend, said he to the person he was talking with, and present my humble duty to any of them, but particu- §2 LIFE AT^D ADVENTURES OF Mr. Ca rew is recognised hy Capt. Hervey, larly to captain Hervey, and inform them I am here. The man very civilly replied he would do it; and asked what he should tell them was his name ? Carew, replied our hero. Away ran the messenger with great hasfe ; but before he got halfway, forgetting the name, ran back again to ask it. Tell them my name is Carew, the rat-catcher ; away went the man again, repeating all the way, Carew the rat-catcher, lest he should forget it a second time ; and he now executed his message so well, that very soon after came the captains to the gaol-door, inquiring what Carew the rat-catcher wanted to speak with them. Mr. Carew, who heard them, answered with a tanti- vy and a halloo to the dogs ; upon which captain Hervey swore it was Carew, and fell a laughing very heartily ; then coming to the window, they very cor- dially shook hands with him, saying, they should as soon have expected to have seen Sir Robert Walpole there as him. They then inquired by what means he came there ; and he informed them circumstan- tially of every thing as before-mentioned. The captains asked him if he would drink a glass of mm, which he accepted of very gladly in his pre- sent condition ; one of them sent down to the store- house for a bottle of rum and a bottle of October, and then they all went into the gaol, and sat down with him. Thus did he see himself once more sur- rounded by his friends, so that he scarcely regretted his meeting with tlie timber-men, as they had brought him into such good company. He was so BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. pS who, with other friends, resolve to purchase him. elevated with his good fortune, that he forgot all his misfortunes, and passed the evening as cheerfully as if he was neither a slave nor a pri^ •soner. The captains inquired if he had been sold "to a planter before he made his escape; he replied in the negative ; they loid him, that unless his cap- tain came and demanded him, he would be public- ly sold the next court-day. When they took their leaves, they told him, they would see him the next tnorning. Accordingly they returned very early, and hav- ing got admittance into the prison, hailed him with L-the pleasing sound of liberty, telling him, they had agreed among themselves to purchase him, then give him his release, and furnish him with proper passes; but, instead of receiving this joyful news with the transports they expected, our hero stood for some time silent and lost in thought. During this while, he reflected within himself whether his honour would permit him to purchase his liberty on these terms ; and it was indeed no little strug- gle which passed in his breast on this occasion. On the one side, Liberty, with all her charms, presented herself, and wooed to be accepted, supported by Fear, who set before his eyes all the horrors and ruehies of a 8e¥ere slavery; on the other side^ dame Honour, with a majestic raein, forbade him, sounding loudly in his cars how it would read in futur* story, that the ingenious Mr. Carew had no contrivance left to regain his lost liberty, but meanljr t)4 LIFK AND ADVENTURES OF Capt. Froadeties him up, and he is flogged ; to purchase it at his friends' expense. For some lime did those passions remain in equipoise ; as thou hast often seen the scales of some honest trades- rrM\n, before he weighs Iiis commodity ; but at length honour preponderated, and liberty and fear flew up and kicked the beam; he therefore told the captains he had the most grateful sense of this instance of their love, but that he could never con- sent to purchase his freedom at their expense ; and therefore desired they would ouly do him the favour to acquaint Captain Froade of his being there. The captains were quite amazed at this resolution, and used great entreaties to persuade him to alter it, but all in vain ; so that at last they were obliged to comply with this request, in writing to Captain Froade. Captain Froade received with great pleasure the news of his being in custody in New Town, and soon sent round his long*boat, paid all costs and charges, and brought him once more on board his ship. The captain received him with a great deal of malicious satisfaction in his countenance, telling him in a taunting manner, that, though he had promised Sir William Courtnay to beat home be- fore him, he should find himjself damnablj^ mis- taken ; and then with a tyrannic tone bid him strip, calling the boatswain to bring up a cat-o' nine-tails, and tie him to the main geers ; accordingly our hero was obliged to undergo a cruel and shameful punish- ment* Here, gentle reader, if thou hast not a heart BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. ^5 An iron collar is put round his neck. made of something harder than adamant, thou canst not choose but melt at (he suflferings of our hero ; he, who but just before did what would have immor- talized the name of Caesar or Alexander, is now re- warded for it with cruel and ignominious stripes, far from his native country, wife, children, or any friends, and still doomed to undergo severe hard- ships. As soon as the captain had sufficiently sa- tisfied his revenge, he ordered Mr. Carew on shore, taking him io a blacksmith^ whom he ordered to make a heavy iron collar for him, which in Maryland they call a pot-hook, and is usually put about the necks of runaway slaves. \V^hen it was fastened on, the captain jeeringly cried, " Now run away if you can ; I will make you help to load this vessel, and then ril take care of you, and send you to the iron- works of Susky Hadlam." Captain Froade soon after left the vessel, and went up to a storehouse at Tuckhoc, and the first mate to Kent island, whilst the second mate and boatswain kept the ship; in the mean time our hero was employed in loading tlie vessel, and doing all manner of drudgery. Galled with a heavy joke and narrowly watched, he began to lose all hopes of escape; his spirits now began to fail him, and he almost gave himself up to despair, little thinking his deliverance so near at band , as he found it soon to be. One day, as he was employed in his usual drudgery, reflecting within himself upon liis unhap- py conditioD, he unexpectedly saw his good friends 96 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Measures taken to liberate our hero. the captains Herveyand Hopkins, two of the Bidde-' ford captains ; who, as has been before related, had offered to redeem him at New Town ; he was overjoyed at the sight of them ; not that he expected any deliverance from them, but only as they were friends he had been much so obliged to. The captains came up and inquired very kindly how it fared with him, and how he bore the drudg- ery they saw him employed in ; adding, that he had better have accepted the offer they made him at New Town. Our hero gallantly replied, that how- ever severe the hardships he underwent, and were they still more so, he would rather choose to suffer them, than purchase liberty at their cost. The cap- tains, charmed with his magnanimity , were resolved to make one attempt more to get him his liberty. They soon after sounded the boatswain and mate ; and finding them not greatly averse to give him an opportunity to escape, they took him aside, and thus addressed him : — " Friend Carew, the offer we made you at New Town may convince you of the regard we have for you ; we therefore cannot think of leaving the country before we have, by some means or other, procured your liberty ; we have already sounded the boatswain and mate, and find we can bring them to wink at your escape ; but the greatest obstacle is, that there is forty pounds penalty and half a year's imprisonment, for any one that takes off your iron collar ; so that you must be obliged to travel with it, till you come among the friendly BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. <)7 Account of the first settlement of Maryland. Indians, many miles distant from bence, who will assist you to take it off: for they are great frienda to the English, and trade with us for lattens, ket- tles, frying-pans, gunpowder, and shot; giving us in exchange buffalo and deer skins, with other sorts of furs. But there are two other sorts of In- dians, one of which are distinguished by a very flat forehead, who use cross-bows in fighting ; the other of a very dwarf statute, who are great enemies, and very cruel to the whites; these you must endeavour by all means to aroid, for if you fall into their hands, they will certainly murder you. — ► And here the reader will, we make no doubt, be pleased to see some account of the Indians, among whom our hero was treated with so much kindness and ci- vility, as we shall relate in its proper place. At the first settling of Maryland, there were several nations of them governed by petty kings. Mr. Calvert, Lord BaUimare's ^brother, who was sent by him to make the first settlement in Maryland, landed at Potowraac town, where the Werowancc being a child, Archibau his uncle, who governed his territories in his minority, received the English in a friendly manner. From Potowmac the go- vernor went to Piscataqua, about twenty leagues higher, where he found many Indians assembled, and among them an Englishman, Captain Henry Fleet, who had lived there several years in great es- teem with the natives. Captain Fleet brought the E <)8 LIFE AND ADVENTURE'S OP Mr, Calvert treats with the Werowance of Yoaniaro. Werowance, or Prince, on board the governor's pin- nace to treat with him. Mr. Calvert asked him, whether he was willing he and his people should set- tle in his country. The Werowance replied,' I will ot bid you go, neither will 1 bid you stay, but you inay use your own discretion. The Indians, finding Iherr Werowance staid on board longer than they expected, crowded down to the water-side to look after him, fearing the Englis^h had killed him; and they were not satisfied till he shewed himself to them, to please them. The natives, who fled from St. Clemenl's isle, when they saw the English come tis friends, returned to their habitations; and the governor, not thinking it advisable to settle so high up the river in the infancy of the colony, sent his pinnaces down ihe rtver, and went with Captain Fleet to ti -river on the north side of the Potowmac, wttbinfour orfiveleagues^, in his long boat, and came lo the town of Yoamaco, from whom the Indians of that neighbourhood are called Yoamacoes. The governor landed, and treating with the Werowance there, acquainted him with the occasion of his co- ming, to whom the Indian -said little, but invited him to his house, entertained him kindly, and gave him his own bed tolie on. The next day he show- ed him the country, and the governor determining to make the first settlement there, ordered his ships and pinnaces to come thither to him. To makeliis entry the more safe and peaceable, BAMPPYLDE-MOOnE CARHW. 99 The English obtain a settlemeot/and name it St. Mary's. he presented the Werowance and Wilsos, and prin- cipal men of the to^vn, with some English cloth, axes, hoes, and knives, which they accepted very kindly, and freely consented that he and his company should dwell in one part of the town, reserving the other for themselves. Those Indians, who inhabited that part which was assigned the English, readily aban- doned their houses to them ; and Mr. Calvert im- mediately set hands to Mork to plant corn. Tho jiatives agreed further to leave tlie whole town to the English, as soon as their harvest was in ; which they did accordingly, and both English and Indi- ans promised to live friendly together. If any injury was done on either part, the nation offending was to make satisfaction. Thusj on the 27th of March, 1634, the governor took possession of the town, and named it St. Mary's. There happened an event whicli very much facilitated this with the Indians. The Susquehan- ocks, a warlike people, dwelling between Chesa- peak Bay and Delaware Bay, were wont to make incursions on their neighbours, partly for dominion and partly for booty, of which the women were most desired by them. The Yoamacoes, fearing these Susquehanocks, had, a year before the English arrived, resolved to desert their habitations, and remove higher into the country ; many of them were actually gone, and the rest prepared to follow them. The ship and pinnaces arriving at the town, the 100 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF The storehouse built, and the colours brought on shore. Indians were amazed and terrified at the sight of them, especially at hearing their cannon thunder, when they came to an anchor. The first thing that Mr. Calvert did was to fix a court of guard, and erect a storehouse ; and he had not been there many days before Sir John Harvey, governor of Virginia, came there to visit him, as did several of the Indian Werowances, and many other Indians, from several parts of the •continent ; among others, came the king of Patux- «nt, and, being carried aboard the ship, then at an- chor in the river, was placed between the governor of Virginia and the governor of Maryland, at an entertainment made for him and others, A Patux- ent Indian coming aboard, and seeing his king 4hus seated, started back ; thinking he was surpri- sed, he would have fain leaped overboard, and could not be persuaded to enter the cabin, till the W^erowance came himself, and satisfied him he was in no danger. This king had formerly been taken prison by the English of Virginia. After the storehouse was finished and the ship unladen, Mr. Calvert ordered the colours to be brought ashore, which was done with great solemnity, the gentlemen and their servants attending in arras: several volleys were fired on board and on shore, as also the 'cannon, at which the natives were struck with admiration, such at least as had not heard the firing of pieces of ordnance before, to whom it could not be dreadfuK BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 101 Friend>ihi p of the king of Patuxent for the En glish. The kings of Patuxent and Yoaraaco were present at this cerenoiony, with many other Indians of Yoamaco; and the Werowance of Patuxent took that occasion to advise the Indians of Yoamaco to be careful to keep the leagire they had made with the English. He staid in town several days, and was full of his Indian compliments ; when he went away, he made this speech to the governor : — " 1 love the English so well, (hat, should they go about to kill me, if I had so much breath as to speak, I would command my people not to revenge my death, for I know they would not do such a thing, except it were through ray own fault/' This infant colony supplied themselves with Indian corn at Barbadoes, which, at their first ar" rival, they began to use to save their English store of flour and oatmeal. The Indian women, perceiv- ing their servants did not know how to dress it, made their bread for them, and taught them to do it themselves. There was Indian corn enough in the country, and these new adventurers soon after ship- ped off JOjOOO bushels for New England, to pur- chase salt fish and other provisions. While the English and Indians lived at St. Mary's together, the natives went every day to hunt with the new comers for deer and turkeys, which, when they had caught, they gave to the English, or sold for knives, beads, and such like trifles. They also brought them good store of fish, and behaved themselves very kindly, suffering their women and children 105 LIF2 AND ADVENTURES OF Keligious opinions of the Indians. to come among Ihcm, which was a certain sign of their confidence in them. Most of the Indians still follow the religion and customs of their a«cestors; and are not become cither more pious or more polite by the compan}' of the English. As to their religion, tliey have all of them some dark notions of God ; but some of them have brighter ones, if a person may be believed who had this confession from the mouth of an In- dian : '^ That they believed God was universally beneficent; that his dwelling was in heaven above, and the influence of his goodness reached to the earth beneath ; that he was incomprehensible in his excellence, and enjoyed all possible felicity; that his duration was eternal, his perfection bound- less, and that he possessed everlasting happiness." So far the savage talked asvationally of the being of a God as a Christian divine or philosopher could have done ; but when he came to justify their wor- shipping of (he Dcvil^ whom they call Okee, his notions were very heterodox. He said, '' It is trut God is the giver of all good things, but they flow naturally and promiscuously from him ; that they are showered down upon all men without distinction; that God does not trouble himself with the imper- tinent affairs of men, nor is concerned at what they do, but leaves them to make the most of their free will, and to secure as many as they can of the good things that flow from him ;r that therefore it was to B'AMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 103 The Idol Qiiiocasan, the priests, and conjurors. no purpose either to fear or worship him ; but, on the contrary, if Ihey did not pacify (he evil spirit, he would ruin their health, peace, and plenty, he being alwaj^s visiting them in the air, thunders, storms, &c." As to the idol which they all worship, and is kept in a. temple called Quiocasan, he seemed to have a very different opinion of its divinity, and cried out against the juggling of the priests. — This man did not talk like a common savage, and there- fore we may suppose he had studied the matter more than his countrymen, who, for the generality, paid a great deal of devotion to the idol, and wor- shipped him as their chief deity. Tlieir priests and conjurors are highly reve- renced by them. They are given, extremely to pawning or conjuring ; and one of them very lately conjured a shower of ,rain fpr a gentleman's plan- tation in a time of drought for two bottles of rum. We are not apt to give credit to such supernatural events ; and, had we not found this in an author who was on the spot, we should have rejected it as a fable. Their priests promise fuie women, eternal spring, and every pleasure in perfection in the other world which charmed them in this ; and threaten them -with lakes of fire and torments by a fairy in the shape of an old woman. , They are of- ten. ])loody in their sacrifices, and offer up young children to the devil. They have a superstitious 104' LTFR AND ADVENTURES OF Kxplanatiog of the term Huskanaiping. ceremony among them, which they call Huskana* wirigj and is performed thus : they shut up ten or twelve young men, the most -deserving among Ihem, about twenty years of age, in a strong inclosure, made on purpose, like a sugar loaf, and every way open like a lattice, for the air to pass through ; they are kept there for several months, and are allowed to have no sustenance but the infusion or decoction of poisonous ititoxicating roots, which turns their brain, and they run stark mad. By this it is pretended they lose the remem- brance of all former things, even of their parents, treasure, and language, as if they had drunk of the water of oblivion, drawn out of the lake of Lethe, When they had been in this condition as long as their custom directs, they lessen this intoxicating potion ; and, by degrees the young men recover the use of their senses ; but before they are quite well, they are shown in their towns; and the youths who have been huskanawed are afraid io discover the .least sign of their remembering any thing of their past lives ; for, in such a case, they must be huska- nawed again, and they are disciplined so severely the second time, that it generally kills them. After the young men have passed this trial, they are Coucarouscs, or men of quality in their nations; and the Indians say they do it to take away from youth all childish impressions, and that strong partiality to persons and things which is contracted before reason takes place. BAMPFYLDE-MOOltE CAHEW. 105^ Indian superstitions, lunar division of time, &c. The Indian priests, to command tha respect of the people, make themselves look as ugly and as terrible as they can ; the conjurors always share with them in their deceit, and they gain by it ; the Indians consult both of them before they go on any enterprise. There are no priestesses or witches among them. They erect altars on ^very remarka- ble occasion, and have temples built like their common cabins, in which their idol stands, and the corpse of their kings and rulers arc preserved. They have no sort of literature among them ; and their way of communicating things from one (o another is by hieroglyphics. They make their accounts by units, tens, hundreds, &c. as the En- glish do ; but they reckon their years by cohonks, or winters, and divide every year into five seasons; the budding time, the earing of the corn, the sum- mer, the harvest, and the winter. Their months they count by moons. They divide the day into three parts, the rise, power, and lowering, of the sun ; and keep their accounts by knots on a string, or knotches on a stick, of which captain Smith relates a very pleasant story; that, when the princess Pocahonta went for England, a Coucarouse, or lord of her awn nation, attended her ; his name was Uttamaccoraack : and king Powhatan, Pacahonta's father, commanding him, when he arrived in England, to count the people, and give him an account of their number, Uttamac* £ 3 105 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Method of treating the Indian infants. comock, when he came ashore, got a stick, intend- ing to count them by notches ; but he soon found that his arithmetic would be to no purpose, and threw away his stick. At his return, the king asked him how many people there were ? And he replied, Count the stars of the sky, the leaves upon the trees, and the sand upon the sea-shore, and you will know how many are the people in England. ' They esteem the marriage-vow as the most sa- cred of all engagements, and abhor divorces ; adul- tery is the most unpardonable of all crimes amongst them, and seldom occurs without exemplary pu- nishment. Their maidens are very chaste ; and, if any one of them happen to have a child before mar- riage, her fortune is spoiled. They are very spright- ly and good humoured, and the women generally handsome; Their manner of handling infants is very rough : as soon as the child is born, they plunge it over head and ears in cold water, and then bind it naked to a board, making a hole in the proper place for evacuation. Between the child and the board they put some cotton, wool, or fur, and let it lie in this posture till the bones begin to harden, the joints \o knit, and the limbs to grow strong : (hey then loosen it from the board, and let it crawl about where it pleases. From this custom, it is said, the Indian derive the neatness and exact- ness of their limbs, which are the most perfect in the world. Some of them are of a gigantic stature, BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 107 Their symmetry of >happ, dress, fDod, Sac, live to a great age, and are stronger tlian others; but there is^ not a crooked, bandy-legged, or ill-shaped, Indian to be seen. Some nations of them arc very iaW and large limbed, but others are short and small ; their complexion is a chesnut- brown and tawny. They paint themselves with a pecone root, which stains them a reddish colour. They are clear when they are youngs but greasing and sunning makes their skin turn hard and black. Their hair, for the most part, is coal black ; so are their eyes; they wear their hair cut after several whimsical modes, the persons of note always keep- ing a long lock behind ; the women wear it very long, hanging at their backs, or twisted up with beads ; and all the better sort adorn their heads with a kind of coronet. The men have no beards^ and, to prevent iheir having any, use certain de- vices, which they will not communicate to the 'English. I'heir clothes are a mantle girt close in the mid- dle, and underneath a piece of cloth tied round th ;ir waist, and reaching down to the iniddlc of the ihigh. The common sort only tic a piece of cloth or skin round the. middle. As for their food they boil, broil, or roast, all the meat they eat ; ho- nomy is the standing dibh, and consists of Indian cora soaked, broken in a mortar, and then boiled in wa- ter over a gentle fire ten or twelve hours together. They draw and pluck iheir fowls, skin and paunc^ tbcir quadrupeds, but dress their jQsh with, thp 103 LIFE AND ADVENTUHES OF Indian. mode of travelling. — The calumet. scales on, and ^vithout gutting; they leave the scales, entrails, and bones, till they eat the fish, when they throw the ofFal away. Their food is chiefly beeves, turtle,* several species of snakes, broth made of deer's humbles, peas^/, beans, &c. They have no set meals : they eat when they are hungry, and drink nothing but wa climbing up into it, he took some refreshment of sleep, which he had great need of, having tra- velled hard all night. He afterwards ate sparingly of his cheese and biscuit, fearing they might not last till he could get a fresh supply, and then took a very large dram of rum, with which, finding liis spirits much refreshed, and night coming on, he began his journey again, travelling in the same manner as the preceding night, with a fire- band whirling round his head. In this manner travelling by night, and concealing himself by day, he went on four days, when he reached the Blue BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 117 and alarm from pocketing a tortoise. " Mountains, where he thought himself out of all -danger of pursuit, or being stopped for want of a pass. He now travelled by day, meeting with great multitudes of buffaloes, black bears, deer, wolves, and wild turkeys, the latter be- ings so large as io weigh thirty or forty pounds ; none of these creatures oftered to attack him ; but, walking one day on the side of a small rivulet, almost lost in thought, he was suddenly alarmed by something he htard plunging into the water, and turning his head to Uie side from whence the noise came, he was struck with the sight of a great white bear, who, being likewise disturbed, raised himself immediately and made towards him. Our hero BOW thought there was no way to escape ; however^ with great presence of mind, he stepped aside to a furze bush, and, striking a light with all the haste he could, set it on fire ; at the sight of which the bear, who was now within a very small distance of him, turned about, and went away roaring hide- ously. Some time after this he was comically alarmed by an inoffensive animal ; as he was walking along a deer-track, he chanced to spy a very fine tortoise* shell box, as he imagined, though he could not con- ceive how it could be dropped there; and, thinking he might make good advantage of it among the Indians, claps it into his pocket; he had not gone far before he heard a hissing noise, which seemed to be rery near j he immediately thought 4:1% LIFE AND ADVENTURES O'P Difficulties orir hero meets with. it to be some venomous snake, and endeavoured to avoid it hy going out of the 'patli he was in ; but still 4he noise seemed io pursue him ; at last looking down, he sees a little ugly black head peeping out of his pocket, which he found came out of what he had picked up for a box ; he with much ado slips his fingers into his pocket, takes out his supposed box, and flings it to the ground, when (he creature, opening the upper from the un- Kindness of the Indian king; to Mr. Carew. more magnificent than any of the others. His ha- bit beirig a most beautiful panther's skin faced with fur ; his hair was adorned with a great variety of fine feathers, and his face painted with a great many colours. By these marks of distinction, Mr. Carew supposed him to be their king, or prince, and indeed such he was ; he spoke very good English, and ac- costed hira as the others had done before. He then had him brought to the wigwam, which is a name they give their houses, which are no more than stakes driven into the ground, covered over with deer or other skins. Here, observing that our hero was grievously hurt by his collar, this good king immediately set himself about freeing him from it; but, as he had no proper tool for that purpose, he was at a great loss how to execute it ; but at last, taking the" steel of Mr. Carew's tinder-box, he jagged it into a kind of a saw, with which he cut off his collar, but not without much labour, his majesty sweating heartily at the work. He then carried him into his own wigwam, which appeared very handsomely fnrnished. Here he ordered some Indian bread and other refreshment to be set before Mr. Carew, who ate very heartily. During this the prince acquainted him his name was George Lilly-craft; that his father was one of those kings who were in England in the reign of Queen Anne ; and then showed him some fine laced clothes, which were made a present of to him by the late king George of England ; ^(meaning his late majesty BAMFYLDE-MOORE CAKEW, 121 Conversations hot*veen kin* Lillvrraft and Mr. Carew. king George the First) he expressed a great affec- tion for his brother kings of England, as he called them, and for the English nation in general. Soon after came in the queen, dressed in a short jacket, leading in her hand a young prince, who both re- peated the word run-away once or twice. Next day the king presented him to the wisos, or chief men of the town, who received him with a great deal of civility, and tokens of high esteem. He ate every day at the king's table, and had a lodging assigned him in his wig-wam, and grew every day more and more in esteem among them, being consulted in all matters of difficulty. Thus sudden are the scenes of life shifted and changed; but a brave man will never despair under what- soever misfortunes ; for our hero, who but a few weeks before was treated like a beast of burden, heavily loaded, cruelly whipped, coarsely fed, and all by the insolence and inhumanity of his own countrymen, is now seated in a strange country, with kings and princes, and consulted by a whole nation. King Lillycraft, who was a man of very good iiitural sense, used to discourse with and ask Mr; ( irew many questions of the customs and man- ners of his brother kings in England. Being told one day Ihnt the king of England never stirred 'abroad without being surrounded with a great number of armed men, whom he paid for defend- ing him, and fighting for him, he very simply asked whom he was afraid of? or whether he was F 122 LIFE AND ADVENTtJRES OF King Lillycraft censures the English king's policy. constantly at war with any neighbouring king, wlio might fall upon him unawares ? Being told to the contrary, he expressed very great surprise^ and could not conceive of what use these armed men were, when the king had no enemj^j adding, When I am at war, my people are my guard, and fight for me without being paid for it, and would each of them lay down his life to defend mine ; and when I am at peace, I can fear no evil from my own people, therefore I have no need of armed men about me. Being told another time that the king of England kept himself generally in his wig- warn, or palace, surrounded by certain ofiicers, who per- mitted no one to come near him but by their permission^ which was the greatest difficulty in the world to obtain, and that not a thousandth part of the people,' who lived in the town where his palace was, had ever seen him in their lives, he turned away from Mr. Carew ia a passion, telling him, He was certain he deceived him, and belied his good brother of England ; for how, added he, can he be the king of a people whom he hath no knowledge of? or how can he be beloved by his subjects who have never seen him ? How can he xedress their grievances, or provide for tlieir wants? liow can he lead his people against their enemies ? or how know what his subjects stand in need of, in the distant parts of his kingdom, if he so seldom stirs out of his wig- warn ? Being told that the king of England was informed of and transacted all this BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. I2o Hunting the chief employment of the Indians. by means of the oflScers that were about him, he replied, It might be so ; but if he should ever chance to go to England, he should talk with his good friend the king upon these matters, as he could not clearly apprehend how Ihey could be. For my part, added he, 1 know and am known by all my subjects. I appear daily among them, hear their compLiints, redress their grievances, and am ac- quainted with every place in my kingdom. Being told the people of England paid their king yearly vast sums out of the profits of their labour, he laugh- ed, and cried, O poor king! adding, I have oft^^n given to my subjects, but never received any thing from them.* Hunting being the principal employment and diversion of the Indians, at which they are very expert, Mr. Carew had an opportunity of grati- fying to the utmost his taste for this diversion, there scarcely passing a day but he was a party amongst them at some liunting match or other, and most generally with the king himself. He was now grown into such great respect among them, that Ihey offered him a wife out of the principal families of the place, nearly related to the king ; but our hero, notwithstanding these honours, could not forget his native country, the love of which glowed within his breast ; he had therefore, for * T^c Indian kiojsarc obliged to provide for the subilstcnce of their people. f2 124 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Our hero effects his escape from the Indians. some time, formed the design of leaving tbcm, and, very soon after, found an opportunity of doing so. One day, being out a hunting, they chanced to fall in company Avith some other Indians, near the river Delaware, When the chase was over, they sat down to be merry together, and having got some rum amongst them, they drank pretty free* hy^ and fell to singing and dancing after their country fashion. Mr. Carew took this opportunity of slipping away, and, going down to the river side, seized one of the canoes. Ihough he was entirely unac- quainted with the method of managing them, hd boldlj^ pushed from shore, landing near Newcastle in Pennsylvania ; ihc place he crossed over being called Duck's Creek, which communicates with the great Delaware. Mr. Carew, being now got, as it were, among his countrymen again, soon transformed himself into a quaker ;* pulling off the button from bis hat, and ilapping it on every side, he put on as demure and precise a look, as if his whole family had been Quakers, and he had never seen any other sort of people. Here, reader, it will be necessary to remark, that, as our hero is no longer amongst simple honest Indians, neither polite, letter- ed, nor deceitful, but among polished people, whose knowledge has taught them to forget the ways of •nature, and to act every thing in disguise; whose ♦ Most of the inhabitaiits of PeiiDs^'lvauia are Quakers. BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAKEW. 12^ and asisuines the character of a Quaker, kearts and tongues are as far distant asunder, as the North from the Soudi Pole, and who daily over-reach one another in the most common occur- rences of life ; we hope it will be no disgrace to our hero if among such he appears polished at the best, and puts on a fresh disguise as often as it suits his conveniency. The first house he went to was a barber's, of wliose assistance he had indeed need enough, not Iiavirig shaved his beard since he left the ship : here he told a moving story, saying his name was Jolin Elworth, of Bristol; that he had been art- lully kidnapped by one Samuel Ball, of the same place, and gone through great hardships in ma^ king his escape. The good barber, moved by his tale, willingly lent his assistance to take off his beard; during the operation, he entered into a ood deal of chat, telling him his father was of i.xctcr; and, when he went away, gave him a half-crown bill,* and recommended him to Mr. Wiggil, a quaker, of the same place. Here he told his moving story again, and got a ten-shilling bill from Mr. Wiggil, with recommendations to tJie rest of the Quakers of the place, among whom- he got a great deal of money. When he took his leave, he was recommended by them to tlic Qua- kers of a town called Castile. Here he found a great deal of favour, and made the best of his ♦ In Pennsylvania, and olbcr part* of America, tliey naltej^rrat «se of paiier money. 126 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Mr. Carew meets with Mr, Whitfield, ' way to Brandy wine-Ferry, in which is room enough to lay up (he whole royal navy of England ; and from thence to Chester, so called, because the peo- ple who first settled there came for the most part from Cheshire. It contains above a hundred houses, and a very good road for shipping, the Delaware, on which it stands, being about three miles over. Here are a court-house and a prison. This place is also called Upland, and has a church dedicated to St. Paul, with a numerous congregation of those whom, exclusive of all other Christians, we call Orthodox. Mr. Carew came here on Sunday, staid all the night, and (he next morning he en- quired out one Mrs. Turner, a quaker, who former- ly lived at Eaibercomb, by Minehead, in So- mersetshire : from her he got a bill, and a recom- mendation to some Quakers at Derby, about five miles further, where she told him he would find Mr. Whitfield. On hearing (his, he set out for Der- by ; but, before he reached there, was overtaken by hundreds of people going to hear Mr. Whit- field preach. Friend, says he to one of them, where are you going so fast ? Hast thou not heard, friend, says the other, the second Christ is come I He then joined them, and they all proceeded to Derby, Avhere he found Mr. Whitfield preach- ing in an orchard, but could not get near enough to hear his discourse, by reason of. the great con- course of people; however, he seemed to be af- fected with it, r,nd strictly imitated the Quakers BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 127 to whom he presents a petition. in all their sighs, groans, lifting up of the eyes^ &c. Leaving thera, he went to the sign of the ship, and enquiring where Mr. Whitfield lodged* that night, wastold at the justice's, who was a mil- ler ; he then asked if he could have a bed there that night, and being told he might, he passed the even- ing very cheerfully. In tlie morning he asked for pen, ink, and paper, soon drew up a moving petition in the name of John Moore, the son of a clergyman, who had been taken on board the Tiger, captain Matthews, and carried into the Havannah, from whence he liad got his redemption by means of the governor of Annapolis; that he was in the most deplorable circumstances, liaving nothing to help himself with, and hop^d he would commiserate his condition. Having finished his petition, away he went to the miller's house where Mr. Whitfield lodged, and found a hundred people waiting at the door to speak to that gentleman. Looking narrowly about, he espied a young lad, whom he found be- longed ta Mr. Whitfiehl, and going up to him very civilly, he begged he would do an unfortu- nate man the kindness to present that paper (giving him his petition) to Mr. Wliitficld : the young lad readily promised he would. Presently after comes forth Mr. Whitfield; and as soon as they perceived him, the Quakers pressed round him, one crying. Pray thee, friend, come and pray by my dear wife; and another, Pray thee, friend, come I2S LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Mr. Carew arrives at Pennsylvania. and see my dear brother. Mr. Whitfield made his way through them all, as well as he could, towards Mr.^Carew, whom the young lad pointed out to him. When he came up to Jiim he kindly said that he was heartily sorry for his misfortunes, but that we were all liable to them, that they happened by the will of God, and therefore it was our duty to submit to them with patience and resig- nation i then, pulling out his pocket-book^ he gave him three or four pounds of that county paper money. Mr. Carew returned him thanks with all the marks of the most lively gratitude, and Mr, Whitfield, wishing him' well to England, went away singing psalms with those who were about him, and we make no doubt but Mr. Carew joined with them in the melody of the heart for the good success he had had with Mr. Whitfield. From hence Bampfylde had only seven miles to the city of Philadelphia, which is one of the finest in all America, and one of the best laid out cities in the world. Jt is the capital of Pennsyl- vania, and, were it full of houses and inhabitants^ according to the Proprietor's plan, it would be a capital fit for a great empire, yet it is a large city, considering its late foundation, most coramo- diously situated between two navigable rivers, the Delaware and Schuylkill. He designed the town in form of an oblong square, extending two miles in length from one river to the other. The long streets, eight in number, and two miles in length, BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREIIV. 129 Plan, situation, and population, of Philadelphia. he cut in right angles by others of one mile in lengthy • and sixteen in number, all straight and spacious. He left proper spaces for markets, parades, quays, meeting-houses, schools, hospitals, and other pub- lic buildings. Tliere are a great number of houses, and it increases every day in buildings, which arc all carried on regularly, according to the first plan. The city has two fronts on the Mater, one on the east side facing the Schwylkill, and the other oA the west, fating the Delaware, which is near two miles broad, and navigable three hundred miles at least for small vessels. The eastern part is the most populous, on account of the Schuylkill, which is navigable eight hundred miles above the falls. We have observed, that each front of the street was to be two miles from river to river, as it was at first laid out ; but one cannot suppose that it is finished in that manner. The streets that run against the Schuylkill are three quarters of a mile in length ; the houses are stately, the wharfs and warehouses numerous and convenient. Tliis city flourished 60 much at first, that there were near a hundred houses, great and small, in it, in less than a year's time, and it has made answerable progress since that period: the number of houses, at this time, being about two thousand, and, generally speaking, better cditiccs liian in the cities of England, a few ex- ceptcd, and those only in as few streets^. All the bousrs have large orchards and gardens belonging to iheiu ; the laud on which the city stands k higli y3 130 MFE AND ADVENTURES OF Description of Philadelphia, its vvhurtis, &c. and firm, and the convenience of covered dock? and springs bavc very much contributed to the commerce of this place, where many rich merchants now reside, some of whom are so wealthy, that they licep their coaches. Ships may ride in six or se- ven fathoms water, with a very good anchorage ; the land about it is a dry wholesome level. All owners of one thousand acres and upwards have their houses in the two fronts, facing the rivers, and in the High-street, running from the middle of one front to the middle of the other. Every owner of one thousaed acres has abouf an acre in front, and the smaller purchasers about half an acre in the back streets, by which means the least has room enough for a house-garden and small orchard. High- street is a hundred feet broad, so is Broad-street, which is in the middle of the city, running from north to south. In the centre is a square often acres, for the state-house, market-house, and school- house, as before hinted. The names of the streets here denote the several so 144 LIFE AND ADVENTURFS OF Thekhip arrivessafe in England. Mr. Carew, liearing this, ttn mediately conies upon deck, with his bhinket tipon his slioulders, aiul pretended to vomit over the ship's side. Tlie pilot^ observing him, asked the captain what was the matter with the old man. I believe, replies the captain, he has got the smali-pox ; he dreamed the other night that his wife was dead of them, which frightened him so much, (hat I think the small-pox is come out upon him. The pilot then stepped up and asked him to let him look upon him, which he complying with, and showing him his arms, the pilot swore he had got the small-pox heavily upon him, and Mr. Carew kept on groaning wery mourn- fully. They then sailed by Appledore, Biddeford, and Barnstaple, (where Mr. Carew, notwithstanding his having the small-pox so heavily ^ wished him- self onshore, drinking some of their fat ale,) so to the Holmes, and into King-road early in (he morning. He then thought it advisable to take a pretty large quantity of warm water into his belly, and soon after, to their concern, they saw the Ruby man of war lying in the road, with jack, ensign, and pendant hoisted. Now were all the sailors, who had been so jovial before, struck with a dreadful panic ; but our hero, secure of the favour and protection of the goddess Prudence, was quite easy at heart. — Soon they perceived the man of war's boat making towards them, upon which Mr. Carew grew sicker and sicker: the captain ordered the ropes to be * BAMPFYLDE-MOORE-CAREW. 14» The nian-of-war*s lieutenant co mes on board. flung out for a man of war's boat, and the stanchions and red ropes to be got ready for the ^ lieutenant, as though they had been to receive some good visitor on board ; such are the polished arts of the world ; for we think we may venture to say, that both the captain and the crew, at the time they were making these preparations to re- ceive the lieutenant, had rather have seen him gone to the bottom of the sea, than come on board their vessel. At length the man of war's boat came along side the ship, when Mr. Carew went down into the steerage with his belly full of hot water, and the lieutenant came on board. Sir, you are welcome on board, says the captain ; or, rather, that little part of the captain called the tongue ; for the heart, mind, and every other particle, of the cap- tain wished him at the d 1 at the same time. The lieutenant enquired from whence they came and what passage. The captain replied, from Bos- ton, in a mouth and four days ; and then asked him to walk aft, and take a drop of rum ; but, before he did so, tlic lieutenant asked how many hands there were on board. The captain answered, he had only fifteen, for men were very scarce. Of what burthen is your ship ? — Two hundred and Miy tons. I must have your hands, sir, said the lieu- tenant : come in, barge crew, and do your duty. No sooner were the words spoken, than the crew leaped upon the deck, and the lieutenant ordered I4t6 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Replies of the Indian sai lor to the press-master. all the ship's company aft, sajing he wanted (o talk with (hem. He then accosted them with aii oratorial harangue : ^* Gentlemen sailors," said he, "1 make no doubt but you arc willing to enter voluntarily, and not as pressed men ; if yon go, like brave men, freely, wheu you come round to Plymouth and Portsmouth, and get on board your respective slii])s, you will have your bounty mo- ney, and liberty to go on shore and kiss jour landladies." Though this oration was pronounced with as much self-applause as Cicero felt when, by the force of his eloquence, he made Caesar, the master of the world, to tremble ; or as the ve- hement Demosthenes, when he used to thunder against king Philip ; yet we are not quite certain whether it was the power of eloquence alone that persuaded the men to enter voluntarily, or whe- ther, being iseated between the two rocks of Scylla and Charybdis. it was indifferent to them which they dashed upon ; however this was, all but one of them entered (tliough with sad hearts) with- out being pressed, which we make no doubt the lieutenant attributed to the eloquence of his oration. The lieutenant, observing a stout fellow in a frock and trowsers, who did not come aft with the other men, asked the captain who he was. The captain replied, he was an Indian, and a brave sailor, so called him by his name. Wat ye want wit mee, replies the Indian, me won't come, BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CARFTW. 14-7 The lieulenant's first salute from Mr. Carew. daramee. Upon which Ihe lieutenant sent some of the barge crew to brings him forwards, which ; the brave Indian perceiving, he cauglit hold of a I handspike, and put himself in a posture of defence, crying out to the barge crew who came up to- wards him, Dammee, ye meddle wit race, mee dash your brains out. The crew, finding him resolute, { did not think proper to attack him : upon which the lieutenant asked him, if he would serve king George. Dam king George, me know no king George : mee be an Indian, mce have a king in my own country, whom mce love and ^ghtee CoVj^ ^because he be de very good king: at which the lieutenant and captain fell a laughing, and left him. Are these all your men ? says the lieutenant. Yes, replied the captain, except one old man, who dreamed the other night that his wife died of the small-pox, and was so much frightened, that the small-pox is come out upon him. The captain then ordered the bills to be made for what was due to the men, and asked the lieutenant in the mean while to walk down and taste his rum. Ac- cordingly, down comes the lieutenant, humming a tune. Mr. Carcw, hearing this, prepared him- self, and, taking an opportunity of putting his fin- der down his throat, discharges his stomach just under the lieutenant's feet, crying out in a most lamentable tone at the same time, O my headi m 2 us LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Our hero gets hi? di8charg:e from the ship. my back! What!- cried the lieutenant very has- tily, is this the fellow who has the small-pox ? No, no, replied Cairew ; I have had the small pox many years ago, and have been with sir Charles Wager and sir George Walton up the Baltic ; and now, for God's sake, take me on board your ship, noble captain, for I want only to be blooded* The lieutenant whipped out his snuiFbox, and clap- ped it to his nose, swearing, he would not take him on board for five hundred pounds, for he was enough to infect a whole ship's crew ; that the devil should take him before he would, hurrying at the same time as fast as he could into the great cabin. When he came there, Mr. Carew heard him com- plaining how unfortunate it was (hat he should come on board, as he had never had the small- pox himself. When the rest of the men had had their bills made out, the captain, willing to get rid of Mr. Carew, said to him, Come, Old John, 1 will have your bill made to ; which was ac- cordingly done, and it amounted to seven pounds ten shillings, for which the captain gave him a draught on Merchant Tidiate of Bristol. The cap- tain then ordered the boat to put him on shore ; but he besought the captain to let him die on board. No, no, says the captain ; by all means take him on shore. Ay, ay, says the lieutenant, take him on shore. Then the captain called to some of the sailors, to help the poor old man over the side of the ship, and out carue Mr. Carew, with BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW, 149 and travels to Bristol, a s one haying the small-pox. the blanket wrapped about Lis shoulders, and so well did he counterfeit, that he seemed a most deplorable object of compassion. The boat, hav- ing got a little distance from the ship, was call- ed back again, and the lieutenant tossed him half a guinea, charging him not to go into the city of Bristol, as he was enough to infect the ^vhole city. Thus our hero, after seeing many cities and men, undergoing great hardships, and encounter- ing many dangers and difficulties, once more set foot on his beloved country. Notwithstanding the joy he felt at being safe on shore, he did not lay aside his small-pox, but travelled on towards Bristol as one very bad in that distemper. Com- ing to Justice Cann's near Derham Downs, he met with the gardener, whom he asked if the justice lived there, and was at home I Being (old he was, he made a most lamentable moan, and said, he was just come from New England, and had the small-pox on him. The gardener went into the house, and, soon returning, told him the justice was not at-home; but gave him half-a- crown. He still kept crying, I am a dying man, and I beseech you let me lie and die in some hay-(allc(, or any place of shelter. The garden- er, seeing him so ill, went in again, and brought out a cordial dram, and a mug of warm ale, which Mr. Carew made shift to swallow. The gardener then left him, being so much afFiighted 150 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Our hero repairs to Mendir ains' KaH. at his appearance and lamentable moans, that he let both glass and mug fall to the ground, before he reached the house. Mr. Carew then made a shift, notTvilbstanding his djing condition, to reach the city of Bristol ; and being now freed from his apprehensions of being pressed, at the first barber's he came to he got rid of his beard, and bid adieu to the sraall-pox ; he then made the best of his way to the Mendicants' Hall, on Mile- iiilL Just as he came there, the landlady and an old croney, a tinker's wife, were standing at the door : as soon as the landlady espied him, she clapped her hands, and swore it was either Mr. Carew or his ghost. As soon as they were con- vinced he was flesh and blood, great were the tisses, hugs, and embraces, of the three. Our hero's fir-st enquiry was, when they had seen his dear Polly, meaning his wife : the landlady told him she had not seen her lately, but had heard that she and his daughter were well; but that his wife never expected to see him more. Mr. Carew soon called for a room above stairs, ordered an elegant dinner to be provided, and passed the afternoon very merrily. The next morn- ing he waited on the merchant with his bill, and xeeeived the money for it ; then weighed anchor, and steered for Bridgewater, where he arrived just at night. He immediately repaired to a mumper's house, kept by a one-eyed old woman, named Laskey, from whence he went to the Swan, where BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 151 He visits many old friends in his way lo Exeter. several gentlemen were pressing the evening to- gether, viz. Mr. More, Dr. Dipford, Counsellor Bedford, and others, all of whom were particularly acquainted with him ; however, he pretended to be a West Indian wlio had been cast away in a ship, coming from Antigua, which foundered behind Cape Clear ; that he was taken up by an Irishman, and afterwards put on board a Bristol ship. Having by this story raised a handsome contribution from the gentlenien, he discovered himself, knowing them to be his good friends; but the gentlemen could scarcely credit him, till he gave them suffi- cient proofs of iiib being the real Bampfylde-Moore Carew. The next morning he went to Sir John Tynte, and made the same complaint he had done the night before at the Swan in Bridgewater : the ser- vant telling him Sir John would come forth soon, he waited till he did so, and then discovered him- self; Sir John would not believe him, but at last made him a present. He afterwards visited justice Grossc of Bromfylde, who presently knew him, and made him very welcome ; from whence, set- ting out for Exoter, he visited on the road Mr. John Bampfjlde of Hcsticomb, the Rev. Mr. Boswell, and Dr. iiildyard of Taunton, the Rev. Mr, Ma- nifec, squire Bluet of Melcombe Regis, the Rev# Mr. Newt of Tiverton, Squire Blundcl, and Ma- jor Worth, in the neighbourhood of that place, who, being all his particubr friends, were very 152 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF The surprise of several Gentlemen glad to see him return, and treated him very hand- somely. Major Worth took him a hunting with him : but he soon found an opportunity of slipping away, and directed his steps to his own parish of Bickley. Here he happened to meet Lady Carew ; but so great was his respect for her, that he, who used to attempt every thing, had not courage to accost this lady, and therefore turned off to a place called Codbury, the seat of Mr. Fursdon. As soon as he came there, he was known by Mr. Fursdon's sister, who told him he should not stir thence till her brother came home ; soon after Mr. Fursdon returned, and brought with him one Mr. Land, of Silverton : he was very much surprised to see him, and treated him very gene- rously, making him a very handsome present, a^ did also Mr. Land. He abode there that night, went a hunting with Mr. Fursdon the next day, and likewise to see Mr. Bampfylde Rode at Stoke, , who would not believe Mr. Carew had been in America ; he treated him handsomely, and made him a present at his departure. He came next into Exeter, the place he had sailed from to Maryland, and going into St. Peter's church-yard, saw Sir Hen- ry Northcote, Dr. Andrews, and two other gentle- men, who were walking there ; he accosted them with a God bless you, Sir Harry, Dr. Andrews, and the rest of the company. Sir Harry, staring \ery wistfully at him, cried, Are you flesh and blood ? why, you can never have been in America ? Dr. Andrews then asked if it was Carew ; and the re» BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. I5i^ at finding our hero returned from his travels. port being spread that he was in Exeter, it drevy a number of spectators to sec him ; and amongst the rest merchant Davy himself, who asked him, in a very great hurry, if the ship was cast away. No, no, said he, I have been in America, have had the honour to see your factor, Mr. Mean, and saw Griffiths sold for a thousand weight of tobacco : did not I tell you that I would be home before cap- tain Froade ? He then gave an account of several particulars, which convinced the gentlenien he had really been in America. Mr, Davey asked him, if he had been sold before he ran away ; and he replying he had not, the merchant told him jeer- ingly, that he was his servant still, that he should charge him five pounds for his passage, and five pounds forcosts and charges, besides captain Froade's bill. He next enquired where he had left captain Froade. Mr. Carew told him he had left him in Miles's River. The gentlemen then gave him mo- ney, as did likewise merchant Davey. Two months after this came home captain Froade, laden with tobacco. As soon as he cama to an anchor, several gentlemen of Exeter went on board, and enquired what passage, and where he left Mr. Carew ? Damn him, replied the captain, you will never see him again : he ran away, was taken, put into New-Town gaol, brought back again, and ivhipped, had a pot-hook put upon him, ran away with it on his neck, and has never been heard of g3 154. LIFE AND ADVENTURES OP Mr. Carew pays his respects to Sir William Cou rtenay. since ; so that, without doubt, he must either be killed by some wild beast, or drowned in some river. At this the gentlemen fell a laughing, telling the captain he had been at home two months before him. Captain Froade swore it could neveip be; however, they confirmed it to him that it was so. Soon after this Mr. Carew went and paid his respects to Sir William Courtenay, returning him many thanks for what he had furnished him with when he sailed for Maryland ; adding, he had been as good as his word, in coming home before captain Froade. Sir William told him he thought he had ; and then called to his butler to give him something to drink. In a little time Sir William came to him again, with his brother Mr. Henry Courtenay, who conducted him into a noble parlour, where was a great company of fine ladies sitting, whom our hero accosted with all that respect which is ever due to beauty and merit. Sir William then asked him jocose^y if he could find out which was his dove. He re- plied, he knew some of the ladies there ; and that, unless his judgement deceived him, such a lady, (singling out one of them) was the happy person. You are right, replied Sir William ; this is indeed my dove, and turtle-dove. Sir William then put a piece of money in his hat, as did Mr. Courtenay, and bid him go round to the ladies, which he did, addressing them in a Tery handsome manner ; and. BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 155 Kultfgium upon the character oP Sir VViUiatu Courtenay. we need not add, gathered a plentiful harvest, as the fiiir sex are, in general, so much inclined to humanity and good- nature. Sir William asked him if he would not drink to the ladies' health? and filled him up a bumper of excellent wine ; he then took his leavcof this truly noble andhos- pitable gentleman. — Here, reader, if my pen were equal to the task, I would describe to you one whom, in this degenerate age, thou mayest gaze at as a prodigy ; one who, like the phoenix rising from the ashes of his father, inherits all the virtues of his glorious ancestors : 1 would describe to 3^ou magni- ficence without extravagance, pomp without os- tentation, plenty without luxury or riot, and great- ness undiminisKed by little pride: I would set be- fore you something more than a king, surrounded fnd imprisoned by worthless and imperious favour- ites, fawning sycophants, and tasteless grandeur. Sucli are the scenes within thy walls, such thy mas- ter, happy Powderham !* From hence our hero went to squire Bell's, of Mamheap ; in tl^e way he met with Mr. Jackson his steward, who was larae with the gout ; he pre- sently knew Mr. Carew, gave him half-a-crown, and told him, he would hop back on his crutches to give him something to drinks While they were drinking a glass, the steward advised. him to make application lo the squire. Presently after, he came * Tbf scat of Sir Williain Courtenay, near £xo». 156 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Justice Bell taken in b y the tale of a shipwreck. out, and Mr. Carew soon began his attack upoa him. Pray, who are jou ? said the Justice. I am a poor unfortunate West Indian, replied he, who has been shipwrecked on the coast of Ireland, and was taken up by a Bristol ship. Ay^ ay, you are one of Carew's gang^ I suppose, said the justice, but he is transported. Bless your honour, returned he, I am no impostor ; I have heard that he was a very great one^ and I think deserved more than transpor- tation. Well, well, there's a shilling for you, re- plied the justice, and go about your business. » From hence he steered towards Mr. Oxenham's at New-house : when he came near the house, he pulled oiF his shirt, and gave it to an old man he met, as though he had been amazed ; then marched up to the house, and just at the stable met Mrs. Oxenham and another lady, whom he immediately accosted with a doleful complaint of being a poor shipwrecked mariner. Mrs. Oxenham told him, she should have taken him for Bampfylde-Moore Carew, but she knew him to be transported. He was not disconcerted at this, but readily told her, with great composure, that his name was Thomas Jones, belonging to Bridport in Dorsetshire. The ladies gave each a shilling, and then bid him go into the house, where he had victuals set before him : before he went away the lady sent him a Holland shirt. Being thus equipped, he enquired out the churchwardens of the parish, and by the same story got a crown of them. From hence be went BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 15? ()nr hero in fr nmle atlire visits Sir T. Carew. to Lord Clifford's, at Uggbroke, in the parish of Chudleigh : here he sent in a petition to my lord as an unfortunate Roman Catholic, and received a guinea ; he lay that night at Sandy-gate, and be- haved as a Roman Catholic, under the name of William Passmore. The next day, at Moll Upton's in Newton Bushel, he met with one of the sisters of that or- der of mendicants commonly called Cousin Bcttics ; and he, having an inclination to pay a visit to Sir Thomas Carew at Hackum, soon made an agree- ment with the cousin Betty to exchange habits for that day. The barber was then called in to make his beard as smooth as his art and razor could make it, and his hair was dressed up with ribbands ; thus metaraorphostd, our hero set out, having a little dog under his arm. Being come to Sir Thomas Carew's, he rushed into the house ^yi(hout ceremony, demanding his rent in an imperious tone. None of the men-servants being in the way, the women first ran one way and one another ; but he, taking notice of this confusion, continued to act the mad woman, beating his head against the wall, kissing his dog, and demanding his rent ; at last one of the women- servants came out, saying. Lady, you are welcome to your rent, and gave him a crown; but he was not to be removed so easily, for now he fell a raving again, and demanded some merri/^gO'down ; they brought him some ale, which having drunk^ be took hjs leave, thanking then^ with ^ J5S LIFE AND ADVENTITRES OF Mr. Cmew visits Ju«tice Taylor as an unfortunate soap-boiler. very low courtesy. From hence he returned in his progress to parson Sand forcFs, of Stoke, in Tinney, where, having entered the house with as little ceremony as before, ho not only demanded his lent, as usual, but a gown for some of his cousins : neithei* would he take his leave till he had got a shilling for rent, a good gown, and some pinners. He next called upon parson Richards, at Coo nbe, in Tinney, where he got a shilling and a shift. Hav- ing thus succeeded in his new adventure, he re« turned to his quarters at mother Upton's in New^- ton-Bushel, where he divided the profits of the day with his good cousin Betty, and also passed the night very merrily with her. The next day he restored his borrowed ac» coutrements to cousin Rettyr, anil, calling fur a pen and ink^ wrote a petition in the character of a poor unfortunate soap-boiler, whose house was set on fire by the carelessness of an apprentice, in the pa- rish of Monksilver, not forgetting to sign it with the names of several neighbouring gentlemen. With this fictitious petition he went to justice Tiv^Mor's at Dembury, where he was handsomely relieved : thence he went to justice Neil's, and finding upon enquiry the justice himself was at home, he did not venture to deliver his petition, but begged as an unfortunate man, and was re- lieved with a cup of cider, and some bread and cheese. At Darlington he assumed tiie character ^f a rat-catcher, and sold a receipt to a gentleman'*^ DAMPFYLDE-MOORECAREW. 15^ He M next a rat-catcher, and afterwards a ^entlpmaii. steward for a crown : ami under this character ho travelled forward to Piy mouth. Here, learning til at there was to be a great cock-match, he laid aside his rat-cal cherts habit, and put on that of a gentleman, and not the habit only, as too many do, but the manners and behaviour likewise. At the cock-match, he betted several wagers with Sir Coventry Carew, and his own brother Mr. Henrj Carew, the minister of Sail ash, which he had the good fortune to win, and left the cock-pit undiscovered by any one. Thus great is the power of d ress, which transforms and meta- morphoses the beggar into a gentleman, and the cinder- wench into a ^ne lady ; therefore let not the little great (1 mean those who have nothing to recommend them but iheir eqiupage) pride themselves as though they had vsomething supe- rior in them to the poor wretch they spurn with so much contempt ; for, let me tell them, if we are apt to pay them respect, they arc solely indebted for it to the mercer and tailor ; strip them of their gaudy plumes, and we shall not be able to distinguish them from tlie lowest order of mumpers. This puts us in mind of a remarkable adventure of our hero's^ life, which he always told with a great deal of pleasure. One day, as he was begging in the town of Maiden Bradley, from door to door, as a poor ship- wrecked seaman, he saw on the other side of the street a mendicaut brother-sailor, in a habit as l60 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Oui hero joins a brother uiendicant s«iilor, forlorn as his own, begging for God's sake, just like himself. Seeing Mr. Carew, he crossed the way, came up to him, and in the cant language^ asked where he lay last night, what road he was going, and se- veral other questions; then, whether he would brush into ?iboozing'Jcen and be his thrums y to this he consented, and away they went; where, in the course of their conversation, they asked each other various questions concerning the country, the charitable and uncharitable families, the moderate and severe justices, the good and queer corporations* This new acquaintance of Mr. Carew's asked him if he had been at Sir Edward Seymour's ? He an- swered, yes, and had received his alms : the stranger therefore, not having been there, left him at the alehouse, and went thither himself, where, having received the same alms that his new com- panion had, he returned to him again. The next day they begged through the town^ one on one side the street, and the other on the oth^r, each on his own separate story and account : they then proceeded to the houses of several gentlemen m the neighbourhood, both in one story, which was that of the stranger. Among many others, they €arae to Lord Weymouth's, where it was agreed that Mr. Carew should be spokesman : upon their coming up to the house, the servants bid them bp- gone, unless they could give a good account of themselves and the countries in which they pretended in which is in voiced a curiou s anecdote of Lord Weymouth. and detect them in any falsehood, he would hiorse- whip them without mercy, which was the treat- ment all those whom lie found to be counterfeits met with from him, and he had detected great num- bers of them, having been abroad himself. Our travellers, however, were not in the least daunted, Mr. Carew being conscious in himself that he could give a satisfactory account of Newfound- land, and the other affirming that he had been at Rome, France, Spain, Portugal, Italy, &c. and could give as good a description of those countries as his Lordship himself. Therefore up they went to the kitchen door, and Mr. Carew broke the ice, telling the deplorable story of their misfortune in his usual lamentable tone. The housekeeper at first turned a deaf car to their supplication and entreaty ; but Mr. Carew, at (he instigation of his companion, redoubled his importunity, kneeling on one knee, and making use of all the methods of exciting clia- rity, of which he was capable; so that at last the housekeeper gave them the greatest part of a cold shoulder of mutton, half a fine whcaten loaf, and a shilling, but did it with great haste and fear, lest bis Lordship ^should see her, and be angry. Of (he butler they got a copper of good ale, and then, both expressing their thankfulness, departed. — ^ Having reached some distance from the house, tbcre arose a dispute who should carry the victuals, both being loath to incumber themselves with it, as hav- ing neither wife nor child near to give it to. Mr. i6'2 Life and adventures of Eccentricity of Lord Weymouth, Carew was for throwing it into the hedge, but the other urged that it was both a sin and a shame to "waste good victuals in that manner, so they both agreed to go to the Green-Man, about a mile from my Lord's, and there exchange it for liquor. At this alehouse they tarried for some time, and snacked the argot', then, after a parting glass, each went his way. The reader cannot but be surprised when we assure him that this mendicant companion of his was no less a person thaij my Lord Weymouth him* self, who, being desirous of sounding the tempers and dispositions of the gentlemen and other inha- bitants of the neighbourhood, put himself into a habit so vastly beneath his birth nnd fortune, ia order to obtain that discovery. Nor was this the first time that this great nobleman had metamor- phosed himself into the despicable shape and cha- racter of a beggar, as several of that neighbour- hood can testify; but, when he went abroad into the world in this disguise, he took especial care to conceal it even from his own family, one servant only, in whose secresy he greatly confided, being entrusted therewith ; and this was his valct-de^ chambre, who used to dress, shave, and perform other such ofiices about his Lordship's person. Mr, Carew and his noble companion having thus parted from each other, he took his way into the woodlands towards Frome ; and the disguised Lord, by a private way through his i)ark and gar- BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREVV. l63 vho nietaniorplioses his character to play upon our hero. dens, returned to his own house, and there, di- vesting himself of his rags, put on his embroidered apparel, and re-assunacd the dignity and state to uhich both his birth and fortune entitled him. I am informed, said his Lordship, that two sailors have been at my house ; and, inquiring which Avay they went, he ordered two men and horses to go after them, \vith a strict charge to bring them back to his house, for he had heard they were impostors ; and, if he found tliem such, he would treat them accordingly. The servants obej^ed his commands without the least suspicion of the intricacy of this affair, and soon came up with Mr. Carew, whom they forcibly brought back to my Lord. His Lord- ship accosted him in a very rough stern manner, asking where the other fellow was, and told him he should be made to find him. Mr. Carew in the mean time stood thunder-struck, expecting nothing less than a commitment to prison, but, upon exami- jiation, made out his story as well as he could. After having thus terrified and tlireatened him for a considerable time, liis Lordship went out, and, divesting himself of the habit and character of a no- bleman, again put on his rags, and was, by his trusty valet-de-chambre, ushered into the room where his brother-beggar stood sweating for fear, when they compared notes together, whispering to each other what to say, in order that their accounts might agree when examined apart, as in effect they were. The steward look Mr. Carew aside into a private J^4 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Lord W'ey month makes hinuclr and hisarUfices known. chamber, and there pretending that the other fel- low's relation contradicted his, and proved them both to be counterfeits, he said that a prison must be the portion of both ; and indeed nothing was omitted that might strike Mr. Carew with the greatest terror and confusion. By this time my Lord having thrown off his rags, and put on his fine apparel, Mr. Carew was again brought into his presence to receive his final sentence ; when his Lordship, having sufTicienlly diverted himself with the fear and consternation of his brother mumper, discovered himself to him. We might have mentioned before, that, while my Lord and Mr. Carew travelled together, they asked each other whence they came, and what their names were. Mr. Carew ingenuously confessed his, but my Lord disguised both his name and country ; so that, having accidentally met with a mendicant of the greatest note in all England, his Lordship thought fit to treat him in the manner aforesaid? which he would not have done to every common vagrant. — However, to satisfy himself that this was the famous and true Bampfylde-Moore Carew, for many impostors had usurped his name, he sent for captain Atkins, a gentleman of his acquaintance in the neighbourhood, who went to school with Mr. Carew at Tiverton. This gentleman was very glad to see his old school-fellow, and assured his Lordship that it was really Mr. Bampfylde-Moore Carew, upon which his Lordship very nobly en- BAMPFYLDE*MOORE CAREW. l63 His liberal treatment, uimI tantion to hU servants. tertained him at his house for the space of three days, and gave him aa excellent good suit of clothes and ten guineas ; but, remembering the trouble they had, and the loss they were at to dis- pose of the shoulder of mutton and bread which the housekeeper had given them, as likewise the resolu- tion Mr. Carew had once taken to throw it away, he called his housekeeper, and strictly charged her never to give away a morsel of victuals more, but bestow the alms in money only, rightly judging that to be more acceptable to beggars than the best of provisions, the greatest part of which they either waste, give away, or exchange for an inconsiderable quantity of drink, as my Lord and Mr. Carew had done. His Lordship took Mr. Carew to War- minster horse-race, and there recommended him to many honourable gentlemen, who were very liberal to him. He several times after made bold to call upon his Lordship in his rounds, and at every visit received a guinea and a hearty welcome at his house. His Lordship would frequently make him- self merry with the story, and jocosely say, that he was more expert in the science of mumping than even Mr. Carew himself. Not long after this, Mr. Carew came to Bid- deford again, where he had been some time before, and delivered the compass to captain Harvey's wife, who immediately burst into tears upon seeing it, supposing her husband was dead ; he then went to the Dolphin, where, as he was drinking, he saw some 166 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF INI r.' Care vv becomes a seller of matches-and a ragman. gentlemen in the Butchers' Row, and asked the lami- lord who they Avere. Being told they were the cap- tains Harvey, Hopkins, and Burd, — Go, said he, and give my duty, and tell them Mr. Bampfylde- Moore Carew is at your house. The landlord went nccordingly, and soon returned wiih the captains. They were glad to see our hero, who returned them many thanks for the favours he had received from them in America. The captains asked him a great many questions respecting his travels through the Indians' country, &c. and told him they never thought lie could have gone through that dangerous undertaking, but expected to have seen him re- turn again. He then gave them an account of every thing to their satisfaction, telling them he had fol- lowed their directions in every point. They after- wards treated him very handsomely, and made a collection for him. The captains then going out, and reporting that he was in town, a great con- course of people assembled to see him, to the no-little profit of the landlord ; for our hero had ordered that no one should be admitted to see him, liil he had first drunk a quart of ale in the house. Some time after this, he disguised himself like a poor miserable decrepid old man, and took to selling of matches and gathering old rags. Hap- pening to meet with a brother ragman at Wivelis- combe, they joined company, and agreed to travel to Porlock together. Just as they came to Gutter-f Hall, night coming on a-pace, they proposed taking BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 1^7 Tlie haunted house. ~ «p their qu.irters there. The landlord told Ihcm he had no lodging to spare, but if they Avould go half a mile farther, and lie in a haunted house, they should have their lodging free cost, and good bread, cheese, and cider, with a rasher of bacon intotlie bar- gain. The ragmen very readily accepted this offer, and, accompanied by the landlord, repaired to far- mer Liddon's house. When they came there, the landlord told the farmer he had brought two men who would lie in the haunted house- The farmer received them very gladly, and asked them if they were sure they had courage enough to do it, adding he would give them twenty shillings if they could luylhe old woman; Never fear, farmer, replied Mr. Carew ; we have not only courage to speak to, but learning enough to lay, the old woman, so that you shall never hear of her more. Things being thus agreed on, the farmer's son, a great stout fellow, willing to show his courage, in a very bold manner offered to keep them oorapany. Having provided themselves with firing, cider, bread, cheese, and bacon, they adjourned to the haunted house, but not before Mr. Carew liad taken an opportunity of going out into the yard, and filling his pockets with large stones. When they came to the haunted house, they made a good fire, and he and his com- panion sat down, eating and drinking very merrily ; bat the farmer's son, beginning to have some terrors upon him, had little stomach to eat. About the middle of the night, when every thing is most silent l6$ LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF The story of the ghost continued. and solemn, at that time when almost every whis- per of the wind is apt to create fear, Mr. Carew took an opportunity of throwing a stone unseen up the stairs, which, coming rumbling down again with a frightful noise, might have at that time struck a panic into the most courageous heart. The farmer's son turned pale, and leaped from his chair in a great fright, believing that the old woman was making her entrance ; but nothing appearing, the same awful silence and stillness as before took place, only fear staid behind in the farmer's breast, and Mr. Carew and his companion kept mute, as though in expectation of what would follow ; but soon his solemn silence was disturbed by a loud thump at the door ; again the farmer leaped from his seat, crying out, O Lord! save and deliver us ! At the same time, unable to command those passages at which fear is apt to issue out, he caused a smell almost as bad as Satan himself is said to bring along with him. Mr. Carew caught him in his arms, and, holding his head close to his breast, cried, Don't be afraid, Mr, Liddon, for I will make the old woman fly ; at the same time, pretending to conjure her, he repeated three times very solemnly, Ilight spirito diaholico ruhro oceano^ whilst his compa- nion went a little aside, and answered in a squeaking tone, like Joan Liddon, Unless my will is fulfilled, 1 will tear them in pieces 1 Soon after cock-crowing, there was another hug'c blow at the door, and then they bid the far- BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. l69 Mr. Carew rewarded by the farmer. ► mer look up, telling him the old woman was gone; however, he would not let go his hold of Mr. Ca- rew. Just as day-light appeared, his companion went forth, and picked up the stones from the stairs, entry, &c. He had scarce done this, before tjie old farmer came down, to see if his son was alive, and if they had seen old Joan. He accosted them with How do you do ? how have you spent the night ? O father ! replied the son, most terribly indeed. You can't conceive what rattlings and noises we heard ; but this good man secured me in his arms. But what smell is this ? replied the father ; sure old Joan stinks of brimstone, or something worse, if she brought this along with her. Ay^ father, fa- ther, said the son, I believe you would have raised as bad a smell as I have done, if you had been here. Well, well, said the father, pe»haps I might; but have you spoken to old Joan ? Yes, indeed, re- plied Mr. Carew. And what does the old woman say ? She says, if her will is not exactly fulfilled as she desired, she will never leave haunting you; but, if it be, all shall be well and quiet. They then went to the farmer's house, where they were made very welcome, and received the twenty shillings, cording to promise, the farmer requesting Ihey ould stay the next night by themselves, for he be* ved his son would have no stomach to go with iliom, and tell the old woman every thing should be fulfilled according to her will, and they should u 170 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Satire upon the author of Tom Jones. be satisfied to their content. They accordingly passed the next night there very merrily, and re- ceived another twenty shillings in the morning, which was well bestowed too by the farmer ; for ever after the house had the reputation of being quiet. Mr. Carew and his companion then sat forward for Porlock, where they parted company ; and Mr. Garew coming into Porlock, met Dr. Tanner, a rela- tion of old Joan Liddon's, and his brother, parson Tanner, who was with him. After the usual saluta- tions, he very composedly asked if they had heard the news of the conjuration of old Joan ? The doctor replied they had heard something of it, and that he was resolved either to send or take a ride over him- self, to enquire into the truth of it. He confirmed it to thero, which occasioned a great deal of dis- course about it, and who these two conjurers could be. We should, perhaps, have passed over in si- lence this adventure of hero's, but that an au- thor of the first rate has taken a great deal of pains to frighten a poor soldier, and enterlain his readers by dressing up his hero in a white coloured coat, covered with streams of blood ;* though we can- not well conceive how those streams of blood, which ran down the coat in the morning, should ap- pear so very visible twenty hours after, in the raid- ♦ Vide History of Tom Jones. BAMPFYLDE-MOORK CAREW. I7I Our hero turns spectre, and tenifies the hcilmun. die of the night, and at a distance by the light of a single candle ; notwithslanding tliis great author has very judiciously acquainted us with a light- coloured coat ; but however this may be, we are of opinion that the farmer's son in the above adven- ture is a more entertaining character than the soldier in the renowned history we are speaking of; nnd that our hero, whenever it was needful, could make a much more tremendous figure than Mr. Jones in his white-coloured coat covered with streams of blood. The following is a sufficient in* stance. Mr. Carew, being in the town of Southmolton, in Devon, and having been ill used by a great officer, vulgarity called the Bellman, was resolved to take comical revenge. It was about that time reported and generally believed, that a gentleman of the town, lately buried, %valked by night in the church-yard ; and, as the bellman was obliged by his nightly duty to go through it just at the hour of one, that well-known accustomed time of spectres issuing from their graves, Mr. Carew re- paired there a little before the time, and, stripping to his sliirt, lay down upon the gentleman's grave. Soon after, hearing the bellman approach, he raised - himself up with a solemn slowness; wliich the bellman beholding by the glimmering light of the moon through some thick clouds, he was harrowed up (as Shakespeare expresses it) with fear and wonder, and an universal palsy seized every limb ; u ^ 172 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF The bellman a second time put in fear. but, as nature most commonly dictates flight in all such cases, he retreated with as much haste as his shaking limbs would allow ; yct^ as fear natu- rally inclines us to look back upon the object we are flying from, he several times cast his eyes be* hind him, and beheld the ghost follow him with a solemn march. This added fresh vigour to his flight, so that he stumbled over graves and stones, not without many bruises, and at length dropped liis bell, which the ghost seized upon as a trophy, and forbore any farther pursuit. The bellman, however, did not stop till he reached home, where he obstinately afiirmed he had seen the gentleman's ghost, who had taken away his bell, which greatly alarmed the whole town ; and thero^were not want- ing many who afterwards frequently heard the ghost ringing the bell in the church-yard. It was some time before the bellman had the courage to resume his usual nightly rounds through the church-yard ) but after a while his fear abating, he ventured upon it again, and met with no inter- ruption. Mr. Carew, happening about a year after- wards to be in Southmolton again, was afresh in- sulted by the bellman, which made him resolve to give him a second meeting in the church-yard; taking therefore the opportunity of a very dark night, he dressed iiimsclf in a black .gown, put a great fur cap upon his head, and at the usual time of the bellman's coming, repaired to the church- j^ard, holding in his mouth, by the middle, a BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 17J Mr. Carew sits for his picture. stick lighted at both ends, at the same time rattling a hcavj iron chain. If the bellman's terror before was great, it was now much greater ; and in- deed the appearance, joined to the rattling of the chain, was so liideous, that the boldest soldier might have been terrified by it, without any impu- tation of cowardice. The b«llman fled away with all the wings of fear, the spectre following hini at a distance, rattling the chain with a most hideous noise ; hence the bellman concluded himself to be haunted by the devil, and declined ever after his nocturnal employment. About this time Mr. Carew met with one Mr. Philips, a celebrated limner in Porlock, who showed him a great many pictures of different likenesses, and asked him if he knew any of them. He pointed out his old school- fellow, Edward Dyke, Esq. and Sir Thomas Carew. Mr. Philips then asked him if he would sit for his picture, as he had been desired to draw it for Mr. Copplestone Bampfylde ; which our hero agreeing to, he went the next day, and the following, to sit for the picture, undisguised. When it was finished, Mr. Philips desired him to come again another time in his mumping dress, •which he accordingly promised to do. After this he went to Minchead, and called on several of his old acquaintance, viz. Dr. Ball, parson Beer, and the Collector, who all treated him very kindly. Having raised contributions trora these gentlemen, he repaired to his quarters, 174> LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF ^ Our hero tutors his own daughter. and desired them io lend hira a pair of trowser*. Having a mind io try some of the neighbouring country parishes, he pretended to be a cast-away seaman, 3500 miles from home, and picked up a great deal of money, and seven or eight pounds of bacon, which he brought to his quarters, and gav» as a recompense for the loan of the trowsers. Some days after he met with an old femalt acquaintance, who had a young child with her, at a place called Ember comb, with whom join- ing company, they came into Dunster, and lay at private lodgings. The next day, being willing to indulge his companion, he borrowed her child, a gown, and one of her petticoats. Thus accoutred, with the child in his arms, he returned to Mine- head among the gentlemen he had so lately re- ceived contributions from; and pretending to be an unfortunate woman, whose house had been burnt at Chadkigh, and giving a good account of that place and its inhabitants to those who questioned him, coughing very violently, * and making the child cry, he got a great deal of money, clothe* for the child, and victuals. On his return to Dun- ster, he gave the mother of the child the clothes, and the greatest part of the money he had ob- tained in his trip ; neither was this method new to him, for he had long before thi^ taught his own daughter, a little infant, to say, Drowned in a boaty as often as he or any other person asked her what was become of her mother, or mammy.. BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 17$ He visits Swansea, &c. in Wales. Having made her perfect in this lesson, he set out with her upon his back, and pretended to have been a sailor on board a vessel that had been lately lost on the coast of Wales, when most of the ship's crew and passengers were drowned, among whom, he said, was the mother of the tender infant at kis back, and that he had saved himself and the infant by swimming. By this story he pocketed a great deal of money every where, especially, as by way of confirmation, when he was telling of it, he would turn and ask the babe. Where is your mammy, my deaf, my jewel ? To which the babe would reply. Drowned in the boat ; which so affect- ed all that heard it, that it not only drew their purse but their tears also. From Dunster he went through the country to Ilfracorabe, where he enquired for a passage to Ireland. He was told tliere was no vessel gt>ing to Ireland, but tliat he might have a passage for Wales, which he soon resolved upon, and, aftet waiting upon the collector and some other friends in llfracombe, set sail for Swansea. He hiid no sooner landed there, then he repaired to the Rev. Mr. Griffy of that place, in the character of a cast-away seaman, a native of Devonshire ; and, as he gave a particular account of Mr. Griffy's son, the minister of Bishop's Nympton, he was made very welcome, and handsomely relieved, and by his recommendations obtained a great deal of money in the town. 176 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OP He changes to an unfortunate sailor. From thence he went in the same character to Lord Mansell'sat Cowbridge, and other places, and returned to Swansea. Thence he set out again, travelling through all the country to Tenby, where, hearing of one captain Lott,* he waited upon him with the same story, but with the addition of his name being John Lott, whereby he soon got half- a-crown and a good welcome. He next set out for Carmarthen, and raised a great deal of money from the Welsh gentry, pretending now to be an un- fortunate sailor belonging to Ireland, who had been cast away near Portland Race, coming from Bilboa. He proceeded upon the same story to Aberistwyth and Port Ely, where he chanced to meet with a brother of the mendicant order, to whom he was well known ; they enquired of each other's success, and many other particulars,- and agreed to join company for some time. Mr. Carew now got a -cere cloth of pitch, which he laid to his arms, with a raw beef-steak at the top, co- vered over with white bread and tar, which has the exact appearance of a green wound. They still continued in the same story of being cast a^ay, but, added to it, that he had fallen oft' the rigging, and wounded his arm in that manner. The tra- velled together with good success as far as Shadvyell, wlrere^ they parted company. * Mr. Carew had some time before this. enlisted himself to captaia LMt, and left him the next day, taking with him an extraordinary fine siianiel of the captain's. BAMPFYLDE-MOORB CAREW. 177 He meets with Lord Anneslv, his school-fellow. Our hero made the best of his way to Holy- head, and begi^ing a passage on board the packet to Dublin, after a fine trip landed at King's End, near that city. His first enquiry here was .for an old acquaintance, and in particular for one Mr. Crab and Lord Annesly, who had been school- fellows with hiin at Tiverton. He found my Lord Annesly lived a mile from the town, but did not 8CC him the first day, being gone to Blessing- town, as the servants told him. Accordingly he set oat for that town the next day, where he found my lord at a tavern with several officers ; he went in, and told the tavern-keeper he wanted to speak with his lordship ; but, as his appearance was none of the best, the tavern-keeper did not like to de- liver this message to my lord, but asked what his business was.. Tell him, said he, that I am an old school-fellow' of his, and want to see him. My lord, being told this, came out Avith two gentlemen, and enquired who he was ; which our hero told him. Ha! Mr. Carew, said his lord- ship, is it you, mon ? walk in, walk in. What, said one of the captains, is this old Carew ? The very same, replied my Jord. Afier he had sat dowQ for some time, and talked over several old affairs with my lord, one of the captains asked bimif he could get him a good pointer. Ay, ay, that he can, replied his lordship ; for, by my saul^ nion^ he and 1 have stolen many a dog, and laia .u3 178 LIFE- AND ADVENTURES OF H ospitality of the I rish gentry to Mr. Carew. in many a hay tallet, in our youthful days. Then turning to Mr. Carew, he told him his fame was spread as much in Ireland as in England. Indeed it is so, replied one of the captains. His lordship then asked him how he found him out there. He re» plied, he had been directed by their old school- fellow, Crab. Well, said my lord, you shall ga Lome along with me. He desired to be excused, as he designed to go and see lord St. Leger, who •was another of his school-fellows ; but my lorJ swore by his saul he should go home along with him, and visit lord St. Leger another time : ac- cordingly a good horse was provided for him, and they all set out for Dublin. The next day my lord Annesly took him to his own house* During his abode here, which was about a fortnight, our hero received great civilties from the Irish gentry ; lord Annesly in- troducing him to all the chief company in the city, as the man they had heard so much talk of. One day Mr. O'Brien, a gentleman of great fortune, being in company, asked Mr. Carew if h€ had ever been on board the Yarmouth man-of- war ; he replied, that he had been in her up the Baltic. The gentleman asked if he remembered a young gentleman about fourteen years of age, very, fat, and who had a livery- servant to wait on him. He replied, that he remembered him very well, and that he was blest with as beautiful 9, face as any youth he ever saw. The gentlerasui BAMPFYLDE-KOOUE CARKW. 179 He joins a humiog-party at Lord Annesly's. (hen asked him if he recollected what became of him ; which he answered by saying he died at Gosport a day or two after they landed ; and that Mr. Price, of Pool, composed a Latin epitaph for him ; at which the gentlemam could not refrain letting fall some tears, it being his own brother he was speaking of. He then asked what men- of-war were with them at that time ; all which he gave a very good account of, saying, sir Charles Wager and rear-admiral Walton commanded ; sir Charles carrying a red flag at the fore-top-masi head of the Torbay, and the latter a blue at the mizen of the Cumberland, both eighty gun ships, i'he gentleman replied, he was satisfied, for he had given a very faithful account of every thing : he then made him a present to drink his health when he came to England, as lord Anncsly said he would supply him while he was in Ireland. A great hunting match being proposed, lord Annesly tijld them that Mr. Carew could make one with the best of them at the diversion, upon which he was desired to make one of the party. Accord- ingly? ^'jcy set out very early next rooming, and bad fine sport, he exerting all his abilities, though he was afraid of riding into some bog, of which that country is full. When the chase was ended, they all went to lord Annesly's to dinner, and the company allowed hun to be an excellent sportsman. Lord Annesly afterwards took him to Newry ISO hltlE AND ADVENTURES OF Ml. Carew is taken dangeronsly ill. and many other places, introducing him to much company. At length he desired liberty to go and see his old school-fellow lord St. Leger at Don- nerail, which lord Annesly would not consent to, unless he promised to call upon him again on his return ; which agreeing to do, he sent his servant with him as far as Blessing-town. Parting with the servant here, he travelled to Kilkenny ; thence to Cashel, (where is a fine seat belonging to lord Mark Ker.) Clonmel, and Cahir, where our hero was taken dangerously ill. It would be unpar- donable not to mention the hospitality he was treated with here. His good landlady, finding him so ill, sent for the minister of the place to come and pray by him, which he accordingly did, and at going away clapped half-a-crown into his hand, and soon after sent an apothecary to hira, who administered what medicines were proper for him, which bad so good an effect as to enable him to get upon his legs: however, they would not let hira proceed forwards for several days, lest he should relapse; and before he set out the minister of the parish sent his clerk round the place to make a collection for the stranger. At^ length, being perfectly recovered, he set out for lord St, Leger's. When he came there, and was intro- duced, ray lord presently recollected him, and cried, Why sure, and doubly sure, it is Carew! He thv^n asked how long he had been in Inland ; adding, he hoped lie would «taj with him for BAMPFYLDE-MOOftE CAREW. 151 He recovers, and visits Lord St. Leger. some lime. His lordship made him very welcome^ and I hey talked ov.er some of the merry pranks they had played together. Mr. Carew enquired if Sir Matthew Day, another of their old school- fellows, was alive. His lordship told him he was dead ; but that there was a young gentleman would be glad to see any old friend of his father's. He •bode with Lord St. Leger about a fortnight, being* entertained in the kindest manner possible; at his departure, my lord made him a handsome present, and gave him a good suit of clothes, with a recom- mendatory letter to young Mr. Day. Here he was received witli great civility, a* well upon account of lord St. Leger's letter, as being an old school-fellow of Mr. Day's father. The conversation happening to turn upon dogs, Mr. Day told him he had heard he was very famous for enticing dogs away, and that Sir Wil- liam Courtenay's steward had told him there was not a dog could resist his allurements : however, he believed he had one that wouhl ; he then or- dered a surly morose dog to be brought out, and offered to lay a wager he could not entice him away, which he readily accepted, and began to whistle to the (\o^y but found him very surly ; upon which he took out a^little bottle, and, drop- ping a few drops upon a bit of paper, held it unseen to |he dog, and then told Mr. Day the dog would ftillovv him to England. Away then he went, and the dog after him. Mr. Day and 182 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF He is a poor supercargo at Biddeford, his servants all followed, calling Roger, Roger, •which was the name of the clo«^; but Roger turn- ed a deaf ear to all they could say, not thinking" proper to turn about once. Mr. Carew, having diverted himself sufficiently, by leading Mr. Day and his servants above half a mile, turned back again, with the dog still following hira.. Having abode here some days, he took his leave, receiving a hand* some present from Mr. Day ; he then returned back to lord Annesly, and thence to Kinsale, where he took the first opportunity of a vessel, and landed at Padstow in Cornwall, after a short and pleasant passage. From this place he went to Camelford ; thence to Great Torrington, where he met with his wife^ and then proceeded to Biddeford ; and on the next day, being Sunday, he strolled down to one Holmes, who kept a public house between Biddeford and Appledore, where he passed great part of the day, drinking pretty freely ; and money being at a low ebb with him, he desired landlord Holmes to lend him a good suit of clothes, which he accordingly did. Being thus gallantly equipped, he went and planted himself at the church-door in Biddeford^ and pretending to Be the supercargo of a vessel which had been a few days before cast away near the Lizard, he got a very handsome contribution* From hence he travelled to Barnstaple, where he had great success, none suspecting him in his dress,, as it was certainly known such a ship had been BAMPFYLDK-MOORE CAREW. 183 He solicit aid of Sir W. Wyndham, &c. really cast away near the Lizard a few days before; Returning back, he called upon Squire Ackland, at Tremington, where he got half-a-crown of the lady upon the same story; then, steering to Ap- pledore, he met with landlord flolraes, who had been in no little fear about his clothes ; however, he would not disrobe till he had got into Appledore, . where also he added to his store ; and then return- ing to Holmes, he restored him his clothes, and gare him some small part of the profit of the excursion. It was about this time Mr. Carew became ac- quainted with the Hon. Sir William Wyndham in the following manner. Being at Watchet in So* mersetshire, near the seat of this gentleman, he was resolved to pay him a visit ; putting on there- fore a jacket and a pair of trowsers, he made the best of his way to Orchard Wyndham, Sir Wil- liam's seat; and luckily met with him, Lord Bo- lingbroke, and several other gentlemen and clergy, with some commanders of vessels, walking in the park. Mr. Carew approached Sir William with a great deal of seeming fearfulness and respect ; and with much modesty acquainted him he was a Silverton man, (which parish chiefly belonged to Sir William,) and that he was the son of one of. his tenants, named Moore.; that he had been at Newfoundland, and, in his passage homeward, the vessel was run down by a French ship in a fog, mad only he and two more saved ; and, being put 184 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Mr. Carew's true character of himself. on board an Irish vessel, he was carried into Ireland, and from thence landed at Watshut^ Sir William, hearing this, asked him a great many questions concerning the inhabitants of Silverton, who were most of them his o^vn tenants, and of the princi- pal gentlemen in the neighbourhood, all of whom Mr. Carew was* perfectly well acquainted with, and therefore gave satisfactory answers. Sir William at last asked him if he knew Bickley, (which is but a small distance from Silverton,) and if he knew the parson there. Mr. Carew replied, he knew him very well, and indeed so he might, as it was no other than his own father. Sir William then en- quired what family he had, and whether he had not a son named Bampfylde, and what was become of him. Your honour, replied he, means the mumper and dog -stealer : 1 don't know what is become of him, but it is a wonder he is not han^ ed by this time. No, I hope not, replied Sir William ; I should be very glad, for his family's sake, to see him at my house. Having satisfactorily answered many other questions, Sir Wiliiam generously re- lieved him with a guinea, and Lord Bolingbroke followed his example j the other oentleinen and clergy contributed according to their diffrcnt rank, which ihey were the nu)re inclinrd to do,, as the captains found he could give a very ^ xacl account of all the settlements, haroours, and mus( noled in- habitants, of Nfwfouniiland. Sir William then ordered him to go to his house, and tell the butler BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 185 He is in danger of detection and punishment. to see him well entertained, which he accordingly did ; and he sat himself down wiili great content and satisfaction ; but our enjoyments are often so suddenly dashed, that it has become a proverb, that many things happen between, the cup and the iify and Mr. Carew now found it so ; for, while he was in the midst of his regale, he saw enter, not the ghost of bloody Banquo to take his scat from him, nor yet the much more tremendous figure of Mr. Tom Jones, in a light-coloured coat covered with streams of blood ; no, but the foot-post from Silverton, with letters to Sir William, — Plorac« has rightly observed, Districtus ensis cur super impia Ccrvicc pcndet, non sicula; dapei Dulcem elaborabunt saporem : Non avium, citharaeque cantus SoniDum reduceot : or, to speak to our English reader, '^ A man who has a drawn sword Iianging ovfir his head by a hair, has but very little stomach to eat, however sump- tuo4is the treat." The foot-post, that we just now incntioncil, was little less than a very sharp sword hanging by a hair over Mr. Carew's liead, for, as he thought it natural Sir William would ask him some questions about Mr. Moore ; and as he did not choose (though he had passed Sir William's strict examination) to undergo a fresh one; he made great haste to rise from table, and set out without ing much ceremony. A few miles distant from ISG LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF He pays Sli* W". Wyndliam a second visit. hence he met Dr. Poole going from Dulverton to Sir William's^ who, knowing Mr. Carew, stopped his horse to talk to him. — Amongst other conver- sations at Sir William's, the Doctor happened to mention whom he had met that day, (not knowing that he had been lately there ;) it was soon known by the description he gave of his person and habit to be no other than the unfortunate Silverton man, to whom Sir William and his friends had been so ge- nerousjwhich occasioned a great deal of mirth . About two months after, Mr. Carew again ventured to pay his honour a second visit, in the habit and character of an unfortunate grazier ; he met the worthy baronet and his lady taking the air in a chaise, iii a meadow were some haymakers were then at work; he approached them with a great deal of modest simplicity; and began a very moving tale of the misfortunes he had met with in life, la tlie midst of his oration, Sir William called to the haymakers to s-ecure him; which struck his elo- quence dumb, or at lea^t changed it from the pathetic to the tragic stile, for he could not con- ceive what might be the end of this ; however, the Baronet soon gave him a choice of either a true confession of his name and profession, or a com- mitment to prison : he made choice of the former^ and confessed himself to be Bampfylde-Moore Ca- rew, sovereign of the v. hole community of mendi- cants. Sir William, with a great deal of humour and good-nature, treated him with allthat respect which BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 187 Our hero arranges a new plan. is due to loyalty; entertained him generously at his house, and made him a very handsome present at his departure, desiring him to call upon him as he came that way ; and he was ever a constant friend and benefactor to hira. Soon after this he planned a new design, which he put into execution with great success. Dress- ing himself in a chequered shirt, jacket, and trow- lers, he went upon Exeter Key, and, with a rough but artless air and ihe behaviour of a sailor, enquired for some of the king's officers, whom he informed that he belonged to a vessel lately come from France, which had landed a large quantity of run goods, but the captain was a rascal, and had used him ill, and damn his blood if he would not • He was about to proceed, but the officers, who with greedy cars swallowed all he said, interrupted him by taking him into the custoni-house» and filling him a bumper of cherry brandy, which when he fcad drunk, they forced another upon him, per- suading hira to wet the other eye, rightly judging tliat the old proverb. In wine there is truthy might with equal propriety be applied to brandy, and that they should have the fuller discovery, the more the honest sailor's heart was cheered; but, that no provocation should be wanting to engage him to speak the truth, they asked' him if he wanted any money, lie with much art answered \Qry indifferently, No; adding, he scorned to make mch a discovery out of a mercenary 188 LIFE AND ADVExVTURES OP fie gives informaiiop to the Custom- view, but that he was resolved to be revenged of his captain. They then ordered him to the sign of the Boot in St. Thomas's, Exeter, "whither they soon followed him, having first sent Mr. East- church, an exciseman, to ask what he would have for dinner, and what liquor he would have to drink. A fire was lighted up stairs in a private room, a couple of ducks roasted, and full glasses of wine and punch went cheerfully round ; they then Ihrust four guineas into his hand, which at first he seemed unwilling tp accept of, which made them the more pressing. He now began to open his mind with great freedom, gave a particular account of the vessel, where they had taken in their cargo at France, and what it consisted of; the day they sailed, and the time they were on the passage ; and at last concluded with acquainting them they had landed and concealed part of this valuable cargo in the outhouses of Squire Mallock of Cockington^ and the remainder in those of Squire Gary of Tor-abbey, both which houses, upon account of their situation on the sea-side, were very noted for such concealments. The of- ficers, having now get the scent, were like sagacious hounds for pursuing it forthwith, and also thought it proper the sailor should accompany tliem ; and, to prevent all suspicion, resolved ho should now change his habit ; they therefore dressed him in a raffled shirt, a fine suit of broad cloth belonging to the collector, and put a gold-laced hat on his BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. J S9 house officers of a valuable booty. head ; tlien, mounting him on a fine black mare, away they rode together, being in all seven or eight of them: they that night reached Newton-Bushel, and slept at the Bull ; nothing was wanting to make the night jovial ; the greatest delicacies the town afforded were served up at tlieir table, the best liquors were broached for them, and music, with its enlivening charms, crowned the banquet : the officers' hearts being quite open and cheerful, as they already enjoyed, in imagination, all the booty they were to seize on the morrow. Thinking they could not do enough for the honest sailor, they en- quired if he knew any thing of accounts ; pro- mising, if he did, to get him a place in the customs. In the morning, after a good hearty breakfast, tliey set forward for Tor-abbey; and, being arrived in Tor-town, they demanded the constable's assistance, who was with the utmost reluctance prevailed on fo accompany them in making this search ; squire Cary being a gentleman so universally beloved by the whole parish, (to which he always behaved as a father,) that every one was very backward in doing any thing to give him the least uneasiness. Did gentlemen of large estates in the country but once taste the exalted 'pleasure of making the whole neighbourhood happy, and consider how much honest industry they might support, how much misery they might alleviate, and how many daily blessings they might have pofired forth upon their heads from hearts overflowing with love, respects igO LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Mr. Carew's derampment, and h\» and gratitude, almost to adoration, we should not 8o often see them leave their noble country mansions to repair to noise and folly ; nor exchange the heart- enlivening pleasure of making numbers happy, for the beguiling smiles and unmeaning professions of a prime minister. Being come to the house, they all dismounted, and the collector desired the sailor to hold his horse, but he replied he \^ould rather go round the garden, and meet them on the other side of the house, to prevent any thing from being conveyed away, and that it would be proper he should be present to show the particular place where every thing was depo- sited. This appeared quite right to the collector; he therefore contented himself with fastening his horse to the garden rails, and proceeded with the rest of the officers in great form to search the dog-kennel, coal-house, dove-house, stables, and all other sus- picious places, » expecting every minute to see the informing sailor, who by this time had nearly got back to Newton-Bushel, having turned his horse's head that way as soon as he was out of sight of the collector. He stopped at the Bull, where they had been the preceding night, and drank a bottle of wine ; then, ordering a handsome dinner to be got ready for his company, whom he said he had left behind, because his business called him with urgent haste to Exeter, he clapped spurs to his horse, and did not stop till he reached that city, where he put up at the Oxford inn, then kept by Mr. Buck- BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. Ipl raisipg money on a false pledge. stone, to whom both himself and friends were well known : he acquainted Mr. Buckstone (hat he was now reformed, and lived at home with his friends, and spent the night very jovially, calling for the best of every thing. In (he morning he desired Mr. Buckstone to do him the favour of len ling him a couple of guineas, till he could receive some of a merchant in the city upon whom he had a bill, for the merchant was gone out of town. As Mr. Buckstone had a mare in his custody worth ten or twelve pounds, he made no scruple of doing it ; and soon after Mr. Carew thought proper to change his quarters, without bidding the land- lord good-bye. Leaving the mare to discharge his reckoning and the loan he had borrowed, he repaired immediately to a house of usual resort for his community, where he pulls oflf the fioe clothes the collector had lent him, and rigged him- self again in a jacket and trowsers ; then setting out for Topsham, about three miles from the city of Exeter, he there executed the same stratagem upon Mr. Carter and the other officers there; informing them also of some great concealments at sir Coppleston Bam fy Ide's house at Poltimore, ' for which they rewarded him with a good treat and a couple of guineas. The Exeter officers (whom, as we have before said, he left without the least ceremony at squire Carey's) having searched all the out-houses, and even in the dwelling-house, very narrowly, without 19^ I'IFE AND ADVENTURES OF JHe visits l^x/^ter, Topsham, &c. finding any prohibited goods, began to suspect the sailor had outwitted them ; therefore he returned in a great hurry to Newton-Bushel, all their mirth being turned into vexation, and their great ex- pectations vanished into smoke. Soon after they had dismounted from their horses, the land- lord brought in the dinner, which he said their' companion had ordered to be got ready for them ; but though it was a very elegant one, yet they found abundance of fault with it ; for it is common with most people, when they are chagrined with one thing, to find fault with every thing ; however, as it was too late to reach Exeter that night, they were obliged to take up their quarters there ; but, instead of the jollity and good humour that reigned among them the night before, there now succeeded a sul- len silence, interrupted now and then by some exclamations of revenge, and expressions of dis- like of every thing that was brought them : when they came into Exeter the next day, they had intelligence brought them of the mare, which was safe enough at the Oxford inn ; but they were obliged to disburse the money Mr, Carew had made her surety for. From Topsham Mr. Carew proceeded to Ex- jnouth, where he also succeeded, and from thence to Squire Stucky's, a justice of peace at Brands- combe, about four miles fromSidmouth ; and, being introduced, acquainted his worship with several dis- coveries he could make; the justice thereupon im- BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAnKW. 193 Mr. C^irew gives them the slip. mediately dispatched a messenger for Mr. Duke, an officer in Sidraoulh ; in tlie mean time he enter! ained him very handsomely, and pressed him to accept of two guineas, as a small tokea of kindness, often sha- king him by the hand, and saying, he thought him- self very much obliged to him for-making this dis- covery ; and that, as a reward for his loyalty to the king, he would engage to get him a place, hav- ing many friends at London. About two o'clock tlic next morning, Mr. Duke, the sailor, and servant of the squire's, set forward towards Honiton, it being at Squire Blagden's, near the town, where they were to find the hidden treasure. Mr. Carew was mounted on a good horse of Justice Stucky's, and while the officer and servant were very busy in searching the out-houses and stables, Mr. Ca- rew gave them the slip, and posted away to Ifo- niton, and took some refreshment at the Three Lions ; then, leaving the justice's horse to answer for it, hasted away to Lyme in Dorsetshire ; where he applied to Mr. Jordan, Ihe collector of the place, vhom he sent upon the same errand some miles off to Colonel Brown's, at Frampton ;' but tlie collector, not judging it proper for him to accompany Iiim, for fear of creating suspi- . cion, left him at his own house till his return, giving his servant orders to let him want for nothing ; at the same time making liim a hand- some present, as an earnest of a greater reward I 191, LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF bur hero hears uf the trick he played the kinji's officers. when he returned. Mr» Carew enjoyed himself very contentedly at the collector's house for se- veral hours, both eating and drinking of the best, as he knew Frampton was at too great a distance for him to return presently ; but he prudently weighed his anchor when he thought the collec- tor might be on his return, and steered his course towards Weymouth, where he made his applica- tion to the collector, and after being handsome- ly treated, and a present given to him, sent the officers to Squire Groves's near White-street, and Squire Barber's on the Chase, both in Wilt- shire, And as soon as they were gone, he set out for Poole ; and sent the collector and officers of that place to Sir Edward Boobey's, who lived in the road between Salisbury and Hendon ; they gave Lira two guineas in hand, and a promise of more upon their return with the booty ; in the mean time they recommended him to an inn, and gave or- ders that lie should have any thing the house afford- ed, and they would make satisfaction for it ; but this adventure had like not to have ended so well for him as the former ; for, being laid down upon a bed to take a nap, having drunk too freely, he heard" some people drinking and talking in the next room of the great confusion there was in all the sea-ports in the west of England, occa* sioned by a trick put on the king's officers by one Bampfylde Carew, and that this news was brought to Poole by a Devonshire gentleman, who BAMPFYLDP>MOORE CAKEW. 19^ He visits Sir Tboraas Mobbes. accidentally came that way. Mr. Carew hearing (his, riijhlly judged Poole was no proper place to make a longer stay in ; be therefore instantly arose, and, by the help of a back door, got into a garden, and with mucli diflioulty climbed over the wall belonging thereto, and made the best of his way to Christchurch in Hampshire: here he assumed the character of a shipwrecked sea- man, and raised considerable.contributions. Com- ing to Ringwood, he enquired of the health of sir Thomas Hobbes, a gentleman in that neighbour- hood, \>ho was a person of great hospitality: he was told that some of tlie mendicant order, having abused his beucvolence in taking away a pair of boots, after he had received a handsome pre- sent from him, it had so far prejudiced sir Tho- mas, that he did not exercise the same hospitality as formerly. This greatly surpVised and concerned Mr. Carew, that any of his subjects should be iiilty of so ungrateful an action : he was resolved therefore to enquire strictly into it, that, if he could find out the offender, he might inflict a deserved punishment upon him ; and therefore re- solved to pay a visit to sir Thomas the next morn- ing, hoping he should get some light into the aflair. Wljen he came to the house, it was pretty early in the day, and sir Thomas had not come out of his chamber ; however, he sent up his pass, as a shipwrecked seaman, by one of the ser- i 2 jpb LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF The villainy of the footman detected. vants, "who presently returned with half-a-crown. As he had always been wont to receive a lilrge present from Sir Thomas, whenever he had applied to him, he thought there was some unfair prac- tice at the bottom ; he therefore asked the foot- man for a copper of ale to drink the family's health, hoping Sir Thomas might come down by that time ; the servant pretended to be in so great a hurry, that he could not attend to draw any, but he was of too humane a nature to permit the poor sailor to suffer by Jiis hurry, so gave him a shilling out of his own pocket to drink at the next public hSuse. This extraordinary generosity of the foot- man increased Mr. Carew's suspicion ; he there- fore kept loitering about the door, and often look- ing up at the window, in hopes of seeing^ Sir Thomas, which accordingly happened, for at length he flung up the sash, and accosted him in a free familiar manner, called him Brother Tar, and told him he was sorry for his misfortunes, and that he had sent him a piece of money to assist him in his journey towards Bristol. Heaven bless your honour, replied he, for the half-crown your honour sent me ; upon whic^i Sir Thomas immediately ran down in his morning gown, and with great pas- sion seized the footman by the throat, and asked him what he had given tlie sailor. The follow was struck dumb with this, and indeed there was jio need for his tongue on the present occasion, as his looks, and the trembling of his limbs, suffi- BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 19? rhoin SirThom.is Hobbcs punishes and discharges. ciently declared his guilt ; however he at last owned it with his tongue ; and excused himself by saying, he knew there was an ill use made of the large bounties his honour gave. Sir Thomas, enraged at the insolence of his servant, bestowed upon him the discipline of the horse-whip, for his great care and integrity in not seeing his bounty abused ; adding^ he now saw by whose villainy he had lost his boots. .He then made the footman return the whole guinea io the sailor, and discharged him from any farther service in his family; upon which Mr. Ca- rew took his leave with great thankfulness, and went his way, higlily pleased with his good success in this adventure. — Here we cannot forbear wishing that there was no higher character in life than Sir Thomas's footman, to whose hands gold is apt to cling in passing through them ; that there was no steward who kept back part of his master's rent, because he thinks he has more than he knows what to do with ; no managers of charities, who re- tain part of the donor's benefaction in their own hands, because it is too much for the poor ; nor oflicers of the public, who think they may squan- (li r the public treasure without account, because what is every body's is nobody's. Mr. Carew having laid aside his sailor's habit, put on ii long loose vest, placed a turban on bis head, dignified his chin with a venerable long beard, and was now no other than a poor unfor- lunate Grecian, whose misfortunes had overtaken 19S LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF He is impressed and taken up the Baltic. him in a strange country. He cauld not utter his sorrowful tale, being unacquainted with the lan- guage of the country ; but his mute silence, his dejected countenance, a sudden tear that now and then flowed down his cheek, accompanied with a nobfeair of distress, all pleaded for him in more persuasive eloquence than perhaps the softest Ian- guage could have done, and raised him consi- derable gains ; and indeed benevolence can never be better exerted than towards unfortunate stran- gers, for no distress can be so forlorn as that of a nian in necessity in a foreign country ; he has no friends to apply to, no laws to shelter him under, no means to provide for his subsistence, and there- fore can have no resource but in those benevolent minds who look upon the whole world as their own brethren. We have already mentioned Mr. Carew's being on board (he Yarmouth man of war up the Baltic ; it will not, therefore, be improper here to relate the occasion of that voyage, which was as follows : He and his friend Coleman being at Plymouth, and appearing to be able-bodied men, some officers, seeing them there, thought them extremely fit to serve hiR majesty, therefore obliged them to go on board the Dunkirk man of war : but they not liking this, Coleman pricked himself upon the wrists, be- tween his fingers and other joints, and infljtmed it so with gunpowder, that evT?ry one thought it to be the itch; he was therefore carried ashore, and BAMPFVLDE-MOORE CAREW, 1^9 He in vain endeavours to escape as an Irishman. put into the hospital, from whence he soon made his escape. Mr. Carew tried the stratagem, but too late; for the Lively an:l Success men-of-war now arriving from Ireland with impressed men, they were all of them carried immediately (together with the impressed men lying at Plymouth) to the grand fleet then lying at Spitheftcl ^ they were first put on board the Bredau, Admiral Hosier, to ehoose whom he liked of them : and their names being called over, the Irishmen were all refused; which Mr. Carew, seeing, declared himself^ in the true Irish brogue, to be a poor Irish weaver, and dis- abled in one arm, whereupon he was also refused : the Irish, among whom he was now ranked, were carried from ship to ship, and none would accept of thein, which made them all expect to be dis- charged ; but they were disappointed in their hopes, for they were put on board the Yarmouth, captain O'Brien, being one of the squadron destined for the Baltic. Mr. Carew, finding captain O'Brien refu- sed no Irishman, when he came to be examined changed his note, and declared himself to be an En- glishman, but crippled in one arm : however, the captain accepted of him, and putting a sword in his hand, made him stand centry at the bitts, which easy post he liked very well ; and during all the time he was on board, every one supposed him rcaU ly dibdbled in his arm. The fleet, sailingfrom Spitbead with a fair wind, anchored safely at Copenhagen, and then the king 200 LIFE A^D ADVENTURES OF Mr. Curew resolves to quit Sweden for Eu^land, of Denmark came on board Sir Charles AVager : the moment he set his foot on board, both the flag- ships were covered with an infinite number of colours of every hue, which, waving in the wind, made a most gallant sight ; upon his dcparlure, the colours were all taken down in an instant, and every ship fired eighteen or twenty guns. Sail* ing from Copenhagen, they anchored next in Elson Nape, in Sweden ; from hence they sailed to Revel, in a line of battle, in form of a rainbow, and an- chored there : the sick men were carried ashore to Aragan Island, which Mr. Carcw observing, and burnhig with love to revisit his native country, counterfeited sickness, and was accordingly carried ashore to this island, which lies near Revel, belong- ing to the Muscovites, from whence boats came every day to fetch wood. He prevailed upon an Englishman, who was a boatswain to one of the Czarina's men of war, to give him a passage in his boat from that island to Revel town ; when he came there, the boatswain used great endeavours to persude him to enter into her majesty's service, but it was all in vain, being resolved to return to bis beloved country ; the boatswain therefore, hav- ing entertained him a day and a night at his house, gave him at his departure a piece of mor^ey, and engaged several Englishmen of his acquaintance to do the same ; he likewise furnished him with a bag of provisions, a boltle of excellent brandy, a tinder-box, and a few lines wrote in that country BAMPPYLDE-MOOKE CABRW. 201 and arrives at Riga. language, which he was to show to those he met, to inform him of the road he was to go ; and then con- ducted him out of the town. That night he took up his lodgings in the woods, and, by the help of his tinder-box, made a large fire all round him, to secure himself from any visits from the wild beasts, then broiled a piece of flesh, drank a dram, and rested very quietly till morning, it being the middle of summer. The whole country here is wild, full of large Hoods and uninhabited deserts, the towns and vil- lages lying very thin. In the morning, finding his way out of the woods, he espied a lonely hut, to which he made up, and making signs of hunger and thirst, Ihey gave him some rusk bread and cabcreta, or goat's flesh, to eat, and some goat's- milk to drink, which is the usual fare amongst those people, who are most of them Lutherans by religion, and lead very ^ober lives : of some of them he got small bits of money, which Ihey call campekes, and are of silver, something larger than a barley-corn, being of a penny value ; he likewise frequrntly got drains of excellent brandy, amongst them, and bis shoes being worn out by travelling, they gave him a pair of good wooden ones, which sat very awkwardly on his English feet.. After six or seven days* travel through this wild country he came to Riga, a large town and fomous sea-port : here he met with many English 1 3 202 lipejvnd adventures of His disfress on hisjo urhey. merchants and commanders of vessels, who were very kind to him ; he tarried tvvo days in Riga, to rest and refresh himself; during which the Eng- lish merchants and commanders provided lodgings «and other accommodations for him, collecting up- wards of fifty shillings for him. Having expressed bis utmost gratitude towards his good benefactors, he again pursued his journey, subsisting himself , sometim s on the charity of (he inhabitants of th« country, and at other times milking the cows upon the mountains, or in the woods. The next place of note he arrived at was the city of Dantzic, in the kingdom of Poland : here he found a great number of English merchants who traded to. Exeter, and Bristol, and had many correspondents living in those places, several of whom Mr. Carew being acquainted with, he gave a particular account of. Having been entertained here very hospitably for several days, he set out again, having first re- ceived some handsome presents froni, the English merchants. From Dantzic he got a passage on board an English brigantine bound for Copenhagen, but through stress of weather was obliged to put into ElsonCape, where he went on shore, and travelled by land to Stockholm, the capitalof Sweden, but in his road thither he lost his way in this wild and de- sert country, and for the space of three days and nights saw neither house, hut, nor human creature, the weather being very thick and foggy. Nothing could be more melancholy and dreadful than thest^ BAMPFYLnE-MOORE CAREW. 5?03 He is relieved a« Stockholm as a shipwrec ked Prf^-byterian three days' trav«'l ; his provisions were exhausted, and every step he took he was uncertain whether it niifijhtlcad him farther into the woods, as he could make no observation how the country lay, the fog intercepting the light of every thing. Sometimes fancy wouhl paint to him a hut through the fo^ at a little distance, to which he would direct his steps with eager haste, but when he came nearer, found it nothing but an illusion of siglit, which almost drove him to despair. The foiJ^rth day he was ex- ceedingly hungry, when, to his great joy, he espied; two she-goats fastened together by ropes of straws, he ran to tliera with great eagerness, and drank very heartily of their milk ; after this he began to con- sider that there must be some hut at least hard by, as the goats could not have strayed in that manner any great distance ;. he therefore resolved to stay upon the spot for some time ; and soon after the fog clearing up, he espied a hut just before him, to which he directly repaired, and there got a bclly- iiill of their homely fare, and directions to find his way to Stockholm. The religion of this cojintry being chiefly Lu- theran, he passed for the son of a Presbyterian par- son, and his name Slowly, pretending to have been cast away in a vessel bound for Revel.' The Lu- therans at Stockholm were cxcci*dingly kind tohira, and raised a handsome contribution for him. Pie likewise chanced there to meet with a relation of Dr. Bredawj a Swi^s gentleman, thatjcsided at 204 tIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Our hero arrives :a h^xeter, and there meets uis wife. Dartmouth, in Devonshire, who asked several questions about him ; and as Mr. Carew was well acquainted with him, he gave very satisfactory an- swers, upon which account that gentleman gave him a guinea, a great fur cap, a coat, and a fine dog, with a letter to carry to his relation at Dartmouth. From Stockholm he went to Charles-Town, and after a short stay there continued his journey to Copenhagen, the metropolis of Denmark ; here he met with one captain Thomas Giles, of Mine- head in Somersetshire, who knew him, and was surprised to see him in that part of the world, and not only liberally relieved him himself, but recom-* mended him to several English commanders there, and also to several inhabitants af the city. From Copenhagen he went to Elsinburgh, thence to El- sinore, where he got a passage for England, and once more arrived in his native country. Landing at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, he visited his wife's relations, and then set forward for Devonshire, tra- velling all the way in the character of a ship- wrecked seaman. Meeting at Exeter with his be- loved wife, and likewise with his friend Coleman and his wife, they travelled together for some time, during which Coleman's wife was delivered of a daughter ; but as they found so helpless an infant a great hindrance to their travelling, Mr. Carew contrived a stra;tagem to get rid of it, and at the same time advanced the fortune of the cliild. There was in the town, where they then were, BAMPFYLDK-MOORE CAREW. 2^5 The trick he playeAa^gay bachelor. a gay bachelor, who lived with his molher and sis-. ters, and was a great admirer of that order of female travellers called Cousin Betties. Coleman*s wife had been with him some months before in that character^ was very well entertained, and, amongst other fa-* vours, received a present of a silk handkerchief. They therefore dressed up the babe very neatly^ wrapped it up exceeding warm, and put it in hand- basket, taking care to put the handkerchief Cole- man's wife had received from this gay bachelor; then getting a large boar cat, in the dusk of the evening they tied it to the knocker of the door, setting down before it the basket with the helpless infant. The cat, not liking the treatment, made a hideous squalling, and with his struggling, rap, rap, rap, went the knocker of the door ; out ran the gentleman, with his mother, sisters, and ser- vants, and the neighbourhood gathered about the door to sec what this noise could mean. Mr. Ca- rew and Coleman mingled among them to learn what would be the event of the ir stratagem. The cat, by long struggling, got free of the knocker, and ran away, only leaving part of his tail behind. The basket alone now engaged the attention of every one, and being delivered to the genileman to open, the feeble cries of an infant soon reached their ears. The mother and sisters, alarmed atithis unexpected salutation, snatched the basket from him, and upon the child's bccast found a note in these words : 200 LIFE AN!) ADVENTURES OF The story of the cat^ the child, and the bachelor. '' Remember, sir, where you last met me, you have not been so kind as you often promised and swore you would : however, it justly belongs to you. I have made bold to send you the fruits of our meeting, and this handkerchief which you made rae as a token. Be kind to our infant daughter ; and (he unfortunate mother, on her part, will forgive you . ^' Your's, &c.'^ The horrid squalling of the cat did not grate so disagreeably upon the gentleman's ears, as the reading of these words ; so that his hat and wig were flung off, and he ran about stamping and swearing that the child was none of his, neither did he knovy any thing of ihe mother. On the other hand, his mother and sisters flew into a violent rage, assailing his ears on every side with re- proaches ; so that he would at that time have thought deafness preferable to any one of the senses. ^' Dost thou deny the child to be thine ?" cried the mother : ^' has it not tfiy very eyes, nose, and mouth ? and is not this thy very handkerchief ? this thou canst not deny, for I can safely swear it was thine." The poor genthman, thus beset on all sides, was obliered to quit the fi 'Id ; the child was taken into the house, and brought up and educated there, and is at ihia day a very accom- plished fine lady. Some time after this advent ure,Mr-Carew took. BAMPFYLDE-MOORE 207 He goes (o Boulogne, and is a Roman C«i tholic. passage at Folkstonc, in Kent, for Boulogne in France, where he arrived safe, and proceeded to Paris and other cities of that kingdom. His habit was now tolerable good, his cowntenance grave, his behaviour sober and decent, pretending to be a lioman Catholic, Avho left England, his native country, out of an ardent zeal of spending his days in the bosom of the Catholic church This story readily gained belief; his zeal was univer- sally applauded, and handsome contributions made for him ; but at the same time he was so zealous a Roman Catholic, with a little change of habit, he used to address those English he heard of in any place as a Protestant shipwrecked seaman. He had the good fortune, in this character, to meet an English physician at Paris, to whom he told his deplorable tale, who was so much affected by it, that he not only relieved him very handsomely, but, what was more, recommended him to that noble pattern of unexhausted benevolence, Mrs. Horner, who was on her travels, from whom he received ten guineas, and, from some other company with her, five more. Here, reader, if thou hast a good heart, wo cannet entertain thee better, than by drawing a true though faint picture of this generous lady ; for, were benevolence and generosity real Ueings, we are persuaded they would act just like her; with such an unsparing hand would they bestow their bounties, and with such magnificence reward de- sert ; with such god-like compassion cheer the af« ?08 trFE ANn ADVENTURES OP Amiable character of Mrs. Horner. flicted, and ju^t so make happy all around them : but thou canst form no adequate idea, unless thoij hast been in the neighbourhood of that noble man- sion,* where Beneficence has fixed her seat. Permit me therefore to transport thee thither, to bless thy sight with the delightful scene. See, already a neat and decent templet strikes the eye : it is she that has erected it to the honour of her God. Thou art surprised, J sec, to behold the grave doctor.^ coming out o^ his chariot to enter the wretched huts of poverty ; but, know^ she has already ^aid his fees : see here another compounding the choicest drugs and medicines for a whole neighbourhood ; it is her bounty that has supplied them. Cast your eye the other way, and behold that company of aged and decrepid poor ; they are going to receive their daily bread at her table. But let us enter this poor cfttt age ; see^ here are the holy Scriptures and other books of pious instruction : and, hark ! the lisping child is reading distinctly in one of them; her munificence has bestowed these useful g'\i^is, and instilled instruction into that tender mind. Be- hold, with how dtjt'cted a look, and grief-swoln heart, with whgt a load of care yon person enters the mansion : but see, he returns — how changed his aspect! joy sparkles in his eye, and thankful- ness swells his exulting heart ; content sits cheerful * The seal of Mr?*. Horner, at Alulberry, Dorsetshire, •f The parish church, rebuilt at her expence. ^ An eminent physician^ who is .'.lloweH a constant salary bj hcr.to visit the poor sick in her oeigbbourboodr. BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 20^ An uuexepcted misfortune befalls Mr. Carew upon his brow, and be no longer bends under his care : what wonderful magic lias wrouglit his sud- den change ? — the opening only of her beneficent hand has done it. What we are now going (o relate will raise an honest indignation in the breast of every true lover of liberty ; for all such know that the beauteous flower of liberty sickens to the very root (like the sensitive plant) at the lighcst touch of the iron hand of power upon any one of its most distant branches. Mr. Carcw being in the city of Exeter with his wife, and, having visited his old friends there, he walked to Topsham, about three miles dis- tant, leaving his wife in Exeter. Alas ! little did he think this walk would end in a long and cruel separation from his friends and country ; little did he imagine, that, in the land of freedom and justice, he should be seized upon by the cruel grasp of lawless power : though poor, he thought himself under the protection of the laws, and, as such, liable to no punishment till they inflicted it. How far he thought right in this, let the sequel tell. Going down to Topsham, and walking upon the quay there, enjoying the beauties of a fine eveniirg, meditating no harm, and suspecting no danger, he was accosted by merchant D y, accompanied vith several captains of ves^sels, in some such words as these : Ha ! Mr. Carcw, you are come in a right time ? As you came home for your own pleasure 210 LIFE AND zVDVENTURES OF An apostrophe to Liberty. you shall go over for mine. They then laid hands on him, who found it in vain to resist, as he was overpowered by numbers ; he therefore desired (o be carried before some magistrate, but this was not hearkened to, for they forced him on board a boat, without the presence or authority of any officer of justice, not so much as suftering him to take leave of his wife, or acquaint her with his misforlune, though lie begged the favour almost with tears. The boat carried him on board the Phillory, captain Simmonds, bound for America witli convicts, which then lay at Powderham-Castle, waiting for a fair wind. Here, had my pen gall enough, I Mould put a blot of eternal infamy on that citizen of liber- ty, who usurped 50 much power over a fellow- citizen, and those who suffered a brother of liberty, however undeserving, to be dragged to slavery by the lawless hand of power, without the mandate of sovereign justice. Foolish wretch ! dost thou not know that thou oughtest to be more careful of keep- ing all usurping power within its bounds, than thou wouldst the raging sea ready to overflow and over- whelm them all ; for thou who hast once consented to see power oppress a fellow-heir of glorious liber- iyy how canst thou complain, if its all-grasping iron hand should seize upon thyself, or whatever thou boldest most dear ? then wouldst thou, too late, be- wail that thou hadst ever suffered power wantonly to set foot on the neck of liberty. . But to returu : Mr. Carew was no sooner put BAMPFYLDE-MOORE C AREW. , ^11 Mr. Carew is transported to America «again. On board, than he "vvas strictly searched, and then, taken between decks, where he was ironed down with the convicts. There was at the same time a, violent fever ragini^ among them, and Mr. Carew, by being chained with them night and day, was soon in- fected, and taken very ill ; however, he had not the liberty of sending to his wife, nor any of his friends, though they lay three weeks in the roads for a fair wind. In tlie mean time, his wife, not hearing any thing from him, and uncertain what was become of him, or whether he was alive or dead, aban- doned herself to an excess of grief, for he had always been a kind and affectionate husband to her; she therefore sought him up and down, at all the houses of his usual resort, but in yain, for no news could she gain of her beloved hus- band. The wind coming fair, they hoisted sail, and soon bid abieu to the English coasts. We need not describe what passed in Mr. Carew's breast at this time; anger and grief prevailed by turns, sometimes resentment, for being thus treated, fired his bosom, and he vowed revenge : at other times the thoughts of his being thus unexpectedly se- parated from his country and friends, and doomed to an ignominious slavery, filled him with sad and melancholy reflections ; however, he had the plea- sure, before it was long, of knowing he was not entirely deserted ; for captain Simmon Is, the com- mander of the Phillory, a humane compassionate 2 12 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Our hero befriended by the Captain. man, came down to bim between decks, soon after they were under sail, and bid him be of good cheer, for he should want for nothing: and though he had strict orders from merchant D y never to let him return, yet he would be a friend to him, and provide for him in the best manner he could. Mr. Carew returned thanks to his generous and un- expected benefactor, in as handsome a manner as he was able. - Soon after this, he had liberty allowed him of coming upon deck, where the captain entered into conversation with him, and jocosely asked if he thought he could be at homa before him. He generously replied he thought he could, at least he wQuld endeavour to be so ; -which the captain took all in good part. Thus did Mr. Carcw spend his time, in as agreeable a manner as could be expected under his present circumstances : but, alas ! all our happiness is too fleeting, and we scarcely taste the pleasure before it is ravished from us : and thus it hap- pened to our hero ; for they had scarcely been under sail five weeks before the good captain Sim- monds was taken ill, which increased every day with too many fatal symptoms; till at last death, who regards alike the good and virtuous, and the bad and vicious, struckthe fatal blow : but the approaches of the grisly tyrant were not so dreadful to this man, as the distress it would occasion to his wife and family, whom hq cried out for during his whole BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAKEW. 513 At Aunapoiis he is offered for sale. illness. Mr. Carew bewailed the loss of his gene- rous benefactor witli more than outward sorrow. Every thing in the vessel was now in confusion by the deatU of the captain ; at length the mate, one Harrison of Newcastle, took charge of the vessel and the captain's effects ; but liad not long enjoyed his new honours before he was taken dangerously ill, 80 that the vessel was obliged to be left to tlie care of the common sailors, and was several times in great danger of being lost. At last, after sixteen weeks' passage, in the grey of the morning they made Cape Charles, and then bore away to Cape Henry : at Hampton they took in a pilot. The vessel having se- veral times run upon the sand, and was not got off again without great difficulty ; the pilot soon after brought them to Kent Island, where they fired a gun, and Harrison, who was now recovered, went on shore, near Annapolis, and made a bargain with one Mr. Dclany of that place, for Mr. Carew, as an ex- pert gardener. He was then sent on shore, and Mr. Delany asked him if he understood garcTfen- ing. Hcing willing to get out of Harrison's hands, he replied in the affirmative; but Mr. Delany ask- ing if he could mow, he answered in the negative. Then you are no gardener, replied Mr. Delany, and so refused to buy him. Then one Hilldrop, who had been transported about three years before from Ex- eter, for horse stealing, and had married a currier's widow in Annapolis, had a mind to purchase him, but they could not agree about the price, where- 214 « LIFE ANp ADVENTiJRES OF Mr. Carcw seizes a canoe, to effect his escape, upon be was put on board again, and llicy sailed - for Miles- River. Here they fired a gun, and the captain went oa. j shore ; in the mean time the men prisoners were or- 1 dered to be close shaved, and (he Avomen to have j clean caps on : this Avas scarcely done, before an overseer belonging to Mr. Bennet, in Way-River, J and several planters, came up to buy. The pri- ■ soners were all ordered upon deck, and Mr. Carew among them : some of the planters knew him again, j and cried out, " Is not this the man captain Froad | brought over, and put a pot-hook upon ?" Yes, j replies Elarrison, the very same : at which they were much surprised, having an account he had been either killed by the wild beasts or drowned in some river. Ay, ay, replied Harrison with a great oath, rU take care he shall not be at Lome before 'I me. By this time several of the prisoners were sold, \ the bowl went merrily round, and many of .5 and is pursued by the planters, &c. of ever regaining his liberty, yet he was resolved io venture. He now recollected of to the public : and our hero declared he was the famoujs Ba m p fy Id e- Moore Carew, and had served his king and country both by sea and land. The ju«lke thought proper to send these useful men to their jpspixtive parishes, at the public ex- l2 Jli XIFE AND ADVENTURES OP Our hero setb out for Edinburgh. pence: accordingly Mr, Cnrew, his wife, and daughter, were ordered to Bickley in Devonshire. T!ie Sherborne people waited npon them to Yeovtl, -w!iere they were delivered to the care of the chief magistrate. The next day, horses beitig provided, they set out for Thomas Proctor's, Esq. at Cocker; but, he refusing to sign the pass, they^yroceeded to Axminster, where the magistrate refused to receive them, on account of the pass not being signed ; '«pon which they would have left Mr. Carew, but lie insisted upon being a<:commodated to the end of liis journey : they therefore adjourned to Mr. iTuckef's, about two miles from Axminster, who asked him if he had a mind to have'his attendants dismissed, or chose to have their company to Bick- ley; and he replying that he did not choose to have them dismissed, Mr. Tucker signed the warrant, and our hero, with his wife aud daughter, rod'c all the way very triumphantly into Bickley, where, as soon as they arrived, the'beHs were set a ringing, and the greatest joy spread through all the place. Mr. Garew remained some time at Bickley, but'fresh news arriving every day of the progress of the rebels, that insatiable curiosity which had al- ways actuated hisbreast, prompted him to go and see the army of the rebels : lie therefore, taking his leave of his wife and daughter, though they in- itrcated him with tears not to go to the North, made the best of their way towards Edinburgh. EAMPFYLDE-MOORE CARE^V. 2^5» The city and caslle described. " After some days tr«ivel, Mr. Carew arrived at the city of Edinburgh, ^vhich lies in a sort of a valley, between t\yp hills, one of which is called Salisbury Crags, (he other marks the foundaiion of the casllo. It was strongly walled, and is adorned with public and private buildings. At the extre- mity of the east end of the city stands the palace of Holyrood-House ; leaving which, a little to the left, you come through a populous suburb to the entrance, called the Water-port. From hencC; turning west, the street goes on in a straight line through the whole city to the castle, which is above a mile in length, and is said by the Scots to be the largest and finest street for buildings and number of inhabitants in Europe. From the palace door,', which stands on a level with the lowest of the plain . country, this street begins to ascend very gradual* ly, being no where steep; but this ascent being continued for so long a way, it is easy to understand that the furtliest part must be necessarily very; high ; for the casllo, which stands as it were at tli« extremity, west, as the palace does cast, makes on all tides (that only excepted which joins it to the city) a frightful and inaccessible precipice. The caslle is situated on a high rock, and strongly for- tified with a great number of towers, so that it is looked upon as impregnable. In the great oh urck Ihcy have a set of bells, which are not rung out as in England, (for that way of ringing is not now known in this country,) but arc played on by. 246 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Holy rood- house described. the hand with keys, like a harpsichord, the person playing having great leather covers for his fists, which enables him to strike with the more force ; and for the larger bells there are trcddles, which he strikes with his feet. They play all manner of tunes very musically ; and the town gives a man a yearly salary for playing lifon them, from half an hour after eleven till half an hour after twelve every day, Sundays and holidays excepted. On the south side of this church is a square of very fine buildings, called the Parliament Close, the west and south sides of which are mostly taken up with the Parliament-house, the several courts of justice, the council-chamber, the exchequer, the public registers, the lawyers' li- brary, the post-office, &c. The great church makes up the north side of the square^ and the east, and part of the south side, is built into private dwellings, very stately, lofty, and strong, being seven stories high to the front of the square, and the hill that they stand on having a very deep de- scent; some of them are no less than twelve stories high backwards. Holy rood-house is a very hand* some building, rather convenient than large; it was formerly a royal palace and an abbey, founded by King David 1. for the canons regular of St. Austin, who named it Holyrood-house, or the House of the Holy Cross, which was destroyed by Oliver Cromwell, but nobly rc-eflificcd by King Charles the Second, and of which his Grace the BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 247 Our hero as a cripple visits the rebel army. Duke of HamHton is hereditary keeper; it is now almost entirely neglected. The entrance from the great outer court is adorned with pillars of hewn stone, under a cupola, inform of an imperial crown, balustraded on each side at the top. The fore part has two wings, on each side of which are two turrets ; that towards the north was built by King James V. whose name it bears in letters of gold ; and that towards the south (ns well as the resl) by Charles II. whereof Sir William Bruce was the architect. The inner court is very statel}', all of free-stone, well hewn, with a colonade round il, from whence are entries into the several apartments ; but above all, the long gallery IS very remarkable, being adorned with the pictures of all the Scotch kings, from Fergus the First, done by masterly hands. Here Mr. Carew met the rebels, but having no mind to join them, he pretended to be very sick and lame ; however, he accosted them with, God bless you, noble gentlemen! and the rebels moving on to Carlisle, he hopped after them, and from thence to Manchester, and here had a sight of the Pretender's son, and other commanders. lie afterwards accompanied them to Derby, where a report was spread, that tlie Duke of Cumber- land was coming to 'fight them ; upon which, their courage failing, ^though the Pretender's son was for fighting, they retreated back to Carlisle ; upon ^vlii h ho thought it liiue to leave them, and !?48 LIFE AND ADVENTURES Of Mr. C arew quits Scotland, and arrives at Bristol. hopped homewards on his crutches, taking care to change his note to " God bless king George, and the brave duke William T' Coming into Bris- tol, he met with one Mr. P , an apothecary, who had formerly known him at St. Mary Ot- tery, in Devon. Mr. P was v«ry glad to see him, and took him to a tavern, where he treated him very handsomely, and then sent for his wife, fister, and other friends, to come and see him* -They were all highly pleased to see a man they had heard so much talk of, and, after spending some hours very merrily wiih him, they would have him try his fortune in that city, but to take care of the mint. Accordingly, he weni away to a place of rendezvous of the brotherf of the mendicant order in Temple-street, equip- ped himself in a very good suit of clothes, and then went upon the Exchange, as the super- cargo of a ship called the Dragon, which had been burnt by lightning off the Lizard point. By this story he raised a very handsome contri- bution on the merchants and captains of vessels, it being well known that such a ship had been burnt in the manner he described. He then returned to hi^ friend Mr. P the apothecary, and, knocking at the door, asked if he was at home ; upon which Mr. P came forth, and, not know- ing him again in his supercargo's dress, made him a very low bow^ and desired him to walk in. Mr. Carew asked him if he had any fine salve, as RAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. SiJ^ He acts the part o f a religions madman. he had met v>\i\\ an accident, and burnt hi» el- bow; upon which Mr. P ran behind his- countermand reached down a pot of salve, desirinp:,- with a great deal of complaisance, the favour of- looking at his elbow; he then discovered him- S(^lf, which occasioned no little diversion to Mr» B and his family,, wko made him very w el*- come. Gotng back*^ to his quarters, he laid aside Im^^ fkicry, and dressed hinwelf more meanly, like to a. labouring mechanic ; he then went into the street, and acted the madman, talking in a raving manner- about Messrs. Whitfield and Wesley, as though he was disordered in his mind by their preachings calling in a furions manner at every step upon the Virgin Mary, Pontius Pilate, and MaryMagdalen, and acting the part of a man reii;ei«usly mad* Sometimes he walked with his €yes fixed upon the ground, and then of a sudden he would break out into some passionate expressions about religion* This behaviour greatly excited the curiosity and compassion of the people, some of whom talked to htm, but ha answered every thing they said in a wild and' iiicohe rent manner ; and, as compassion is generally tlu; forerunner of charity, he was relieved !>y the most of them* . The next morning he appeared in a morning- gown^ still acting the madman, and carried it so for now^ as to address himself to all the post^ jl3 550 LTFE AND ADVENTURES OF He arrives at Balli. in the streets^ as if tliey were saints, lifting up liis bands and eyes in a fervent though distracted manner to lieaven, and making use of so many ex- travagant gestures, that he astonished the whole city. Going through Castle-street, he met the Rev. Mr. B— c, a minister of that place, whom he accosted with his arms thrown round him; and in- sisted, in a raving manner, he should tell him who was the father of the morning-star; which fright- ened the parson so much, that he took to his heels and ran for it, he running after him, till he took shelter in a house. Having well recruited his pockets by this stra- tagem, he left the city next day, and travelled to- wards Bath, acting the madman all the way till he came to Bath. As soon as he came there, lie enquired for Dr. Coney's, and being directed to his house, found two brother mendicants at the door; after they had waited some time, the servant brought out each of them a halfpenny, for which his brother mendicants were very thankful; but Mr. Carew gave his halfpenny to one of them ; then knocking at the door, and the maid coming out again, Tell your master, said he, I am not a halfpenny man, but that my name is Bampfylde Moore Carew^ king of the mendicants, which being told, the doctor came out with one of his daughters, and gave him sixpence and a mug of drink, for which he returned bim thanks. The next day he went to Mr. Allen's seat, BAM PFYLDE-MOORE CARE W. 251 His re>olution displayed at Rye in S i^^( x. near Bath, and sent in a petition as IVom a poor lunatic, by which he got half-a-crown. From (hence he made the best of his way to Shepton- Mallet, when, calling at Mr. Hooper's, and telling the servant who he was, (he mistress ordered him in, and enquired if he was really the famous Bamp- fylde Carew ; she then gave him half-a-crown, and ordered him (o be well entertained. At Shepton- Mallet our hero had the pleasure of meeting witli his beloved wife, to their mutual joy and satisfac- tion ; and finding several brethren of the order there, they passed some days together with much mirth and harmony. Coming near liyc in Sussex, (where, upon ac- count of their extraordinary merit, the two brothers L d are perpetually mayors,) he met two of his mendicant subjects, who acquainted him there was no entering the lown, but with extreme hazard to his person, upon account of the severity which the mayor exercised towards all of their community. Mr. Carew 's wife, hearing tliis, en* treated him in the most tender manner not to venture into the town ; but, as his great heart always swelled when any thing hazardous presented, and as he was willing to show his subjects, by example, that nothing was too difficult for industry and i tgenuity to overcome, he was resolved to enter J^ye; which he did with a very slow, feeble, and tottering pace, stopping every minute by the most violent fits ot coughing, whilst every limb 5o2 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Our hero repairs to Boulogne anci Cal.'iis. shook ^vith an universal palsy, his countenance appearini^ rather to be the property of some one amoni^ the dead than to belong to any living body : in tin's manner he crept along to the mayor's house, and in a most lamentable moan begged same relief. The mayor, seeing so deplorable a figure, said he %vas indeed a real object of pity ; and therefore gavo him a shilling and liberty to go through the town ; which he did with no little profit, and with great applause from the mendicants, when they heard of his success. Steering from thence to Dungeness^, he found a vessel ready to sail for Boulogne, on board of which he embarked, and landed safe th re ; and found it so thronged with English soldiers, (it being soon after the reducing of the army,) that had he Hot known the contrary, he should have thought himself in some town in England, Some of the soldiers knowing him, cried out, Here's Bampfylde Carew 1 upon which they took him along with them to their quarters, and they passed tiie day very merrily i the soldiers expressed great discontent at their being discharged, swearing they would never come over to England any more, saying, if they had not come over then, they should have been cither starved ar hanged. He then enquired how they lived in France J They replied, never better in their lives. From Boulogne he set off for Calais ; where he likewise found a great multitude of English soldiers, and more were daily coming BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CARRW. 2j5 At Folkstone he becomes a ruined gentleman of an anoient family. in. Whilst he was here, the Duke of Richmond arrived, in his way to Paris ; who, seeing so many English soldiers, asked some of them why they came there ? to which they replied, they should have either been starved or hanged if they had Staid in England. Mr. Carew intended to havo paid his respects to his Grace^ bat had not an op- portunity ; and soon after, being taken very ill, was obliged to desist from his intended design of making a tour through France, Germany, &c. lie therefore took a passage in the packet- boat from Calais, and landed at Dover; from hence he went to Folkstone ; where he got a pass and re- lief from the mayor, under the name of John Moore, a native of St. Ivcs in Cornwall, who had been cast away on the coast of France, in a vessel coming from Ireland. Having borne this character as luiig as sailed his inclination, he metamorphosed himself again, and appeared in quite a differeut shape. He now wore a full handsome tie-wig, but a little changed by age; a good beaver hat, jLoraewhat dulTy ; a fine broad-cloth coat, but not quite of the newest fashion, and not a little faded in its colour. He was now a gentleman of an an- cient family and good estate, but reduced by a train of uncommon misfortunes. His venerable looks, his dejected countenance, the visible struggles be- tween the shame of asking and the necessity which forced him to it, all operated to move tlie pity of those he applied to, ^vhich was generally i?5t LIl'R AND ADVRNTURES OF The Bislioj) of Wells relieves our hero. sliovrri by h.'iiulsoiiic contributions, for few could think of offering mites to a geiillen:ian of so ancient a family, and who had formerly lived so well ; and indeed how much soever we may en\y the great in their prosperity, wc are as ready to relieve them ia their misfortunes. Mr. Carew, happening to be in the city of Wells in Somcrse(shir(^, on a Sunday, was told the bishop was to preach (hat morning : upon which he slips on. a black waistcoat and morning-gown, and went out to meet the bishop as he was walk- ing in procession, and addressed himself to his lordship as a poor unhappy man, whose misfortunes had turned his brain; which the bishop hearing, gave him half-a-crown. From Wells he steered to Bridgewater, but did not appear in the day-lirac, and went only in the evenings upon his crutches, as a poor lame man, not being known by any one till he discovered himself. Having heard that young lord Clifford, his first cousin, (who was jivst returned from his tra- vels abroad,) was at his seat at Callington, about four miles from Bridgewater, he resolved to pay him a visit. In his way thither resided parson C 9 who being one whom nature had made up in a hurry without a heart, Mr. Carew had never been able to obtain any thing of him, even under the most moving appearance of distress, but a cup of small drink. Stopping now in his way, he found the parson was gone to lord Clif- BAMPFYLDE MOORE CARRW- 25.» He steals a clergyman's spaniel. ford's, but bdng saluted at the door by a fine black spaniel, with almost as much crusliness as he would have been had his master been at home, he thought himself under no stronger obligation of observing the strict laws of honour, than the parson did of hospitality ; and therefore soon charmed the cross- ness of the spaniel, and made him follow him to Bridgewater; for it is very remarkable "that the art has been found of taming the mostr savage and ill-natured brutes, which is generally attended with success; but it requires a much higher skill, and is but seldom successful, to soften the ill-nature and inhumanity of man: whether it is that the brutes are more capable of receiving instruction, or whether the iil-nature of man exceeds (hat of the brutes, we cannot well determine." Having secured the spaniel, and passed the night merrily in Bridgewater, he set out the next morning for lord Cliftbrd's, and in his way called upon the parson again, who very crustily told him he had lost his dog, and supposed some of his gang had stolen him: to which Mr. Carew very calmly replied, What was he to his dog, or what was his dog to him ? if he would make him drink it was well, fof he was very dry : at last, with the use of much rhetoric, he got a cup of small drink ; then, taking leave of him, he went toihe Red-Lion in the same parish, where he staid some time. In the mean time down ran the parson -to my lord Cliiford's, to acquaint him that Mr. Carew was i56 LIFK AND ADVENTUilES OP He visits Bridge water fair u itli some of his own order. in the parish, and *ta advise him to take care of his do£^s ; so that Mr. Carcw, coming down imme- diately after, found a servant with one dog in his arms, and another with anotlier: here one stood whistling and another callinir, and both my lord and his brother were running about to seek after thcitr favourites. Mr Carew asked my lord what was the mean- ing of this hurry, and if his dogs were cripples^ because he saw several carried in the servants' arms ; adding, he hoped his lordship did not ima- gine he was come to s^eal any of them. Upon which Ids lordship told him, that parson C » had advised him to be careful,, as he had lost his !«ipaniel but the day before. Jt may be so, replied he; the parson knows but little of me, or the laws of our community, if he is ignorant that with us ingratitude is unknown, and the property of our friends alwnys sacred » His lordship, hearing this^ entertained him very handsomely, and both himself and his brother made him a present. There being about this time a great fair at Bridgewater, in the county of Somerset, Mr. Carcw appeared there upon crutches as a poor miserable cripple, in company with many of his subjects that were full as. unfortunate as himself, some blind, some deaf, some dumb, &c. among whom were his old friends and schi)ol-fellows Martin, Escott, and Coleman. The mayor of that corporation,, a fitter enemy to their community, jocosely j5aid| BAMPFYLDE-MOORK CAllEW. f^57 A ludicrous scene among the mendicants. thai he would make the blind see, the deaf hear, and the lame walk ; and by way of preparation or beginning to this intended cure, he had them all appreli^nded and confined in a dark hole, which greatly terrified them with the apprehension of severe punishment. After one night V repose in Innbo, he sent a physician or sur^^eon of most profound skill and judgement to them, who brought the keys of their melancholy apartments, and pre- tending greatly to befriend them, advised thera, if there were any of them counterfeits, to ma^ke haste out of the town, or otherwise they must expecl no mercy from the mayor, unknown to whom he bad privately stolen the keys ; then, unlocking th« door, forth issued the disabled and infirm prisoners ;^ the lame threw aside their crutches and artificial legs, and made an exceeding good use of their natural ones j the blind made shift to see the way out of town ; and tlve deaf tliemselvcs, with great a(- ti ntion, hearkened to th is tlveir friend, and followed his advice with all possible speed. The mayor^ with the aldermen and several gentlemen, planted themselves opposite to the prisoners, and were spectators of this diverting scene, calling out to stop them, not with an intention- to do them any pre- judice, but only of adding a spur to their speed t however, there were some who were ready enough to lay hold on them, and our hcro^ in a struggle of this nature, left a skirt of his garment behind hitn, wliicb might be done without mucU violence^ ag 258 LIFE AND ADVENTURES. OF The use of toinb-?toncs, &:c. to our h«ro. we may reasonably conclude it to have been none of the soundest; and Coleman was so closely pur- sued, that he plunged into the river, and swam to the opposite shore : in short, so well did these , cripples ply their limbs, that not one of them could be taken, excepting a real object, a lame man, who, in spite of the fear and consternation he was in, could not mend his decrepid pace: he therefore "was brought before the mayor, who, after slightly rebuking him for his vagrant course of life, ordered him to be relieved in a very plentiful and generous manner, and the wkole corporation was exceeding kind to him. One method of gaining his ends Mr. Carew bad peculiar to himself. He used with great in- tent to read the inscriptions on tombs and monu- ments in church-yards, and when the deceased person had a character for piety and charity, he would with the greatest importunity apply to his or her surviving relations ; and if they refused an alms, he would, in the most moving terms imagina- ble, implore their charity for the sake of their deceased relation, praying they would follow tlie laudable and virtuous example of their dead hus- band, wife, father, mother, or the like; hoping there was the same God, the same spirit of piety, religion, and charity, stili dwelling in the house as before the death of the person deceased, These and the like expressions, uttered in a most suppliant aud pathetic voice, used to extort not otily hand- BA.IPFYLDB-MOORE CAREW. 259^ He is retieved at Burton as a cast-awav seuiiian. some contributions, but tears from the person to A^hom he applied. Some time after tliis, he engaged, at Burton in Somersetshire, in the character and habit of a seaman, cast away homeward bound from New* found land, 'svith a captain, who, by his great se- verity, had rendered himself the terror of all the mendicant order; but he, relying upon his perfect acquaintance with the country, boldly ventured up to him, had the best, entertainment his house af- forded, and was honourably dismissed with a con- siderable piece of money. Captain H h and N n, with both of whom Mr. Carew had sailed, were intimale acquaintances of this captain, of whom he asked many questions, and also about Newfoundland, which country trade he had used the most part of the time; to all which questions he gave very satisfactory answers, This captain had detected so many impostors, that he concluded they were all so ; but, not being able to find Mr. Carew in any one error, he was very proud of it, pitied and relieved him in an extraordinary man- ner, went with him himself to the principal people of the town, wrote him letters of recommendation to his distant relations and friends, that lay in his road, and acted with such extraordinary kinaness, as if he thought he could never do enough ; it is to bc! remarked, that Jie passed rather for a passenger than a seaman. In the same town lived lord B ■ ■ y, wbo 560 LIFE AND ADVENTURES Of INIr. Carew, the Apothecary, and tlie Irish Mountebank. had a son who was captain of the Antelope man- of-war, stationed in the West Indies, and who died on the passage ; Mr. Carew informed himself of every eircumstance relating thereto, and made it liis business to meet his lordship as lie came out of church. After his first application, he gave his lordship to ander&tand, that he was a spectator of (he burial of his son (h\ board the Antelope ; at the same time came up this critical captain, who gave him the character of a man ofgreat veracity, so that his lordsliip gave him a guinea, his eldest son half-a-crown, and also good entertainment from the house. This happened to be a fair day; he thereupon, going into th^ to^wH, was accosted by an apothecary, who whispered him iii the ear, say- ing, tha^ he knew bim to be the famous Bamp- fiylde Moore Carew, and had most grossly im* posed upon the captain and the town, but at th^ same time assured him that he would not injure him, but faithfully keep- the secret. In the mean time there was an Irish quack doctor in view, who had gathered the whole market around him, and who, with more strength of lungs than sense or argument, most loudly harangued, entertain- ing them in a very florid manner with the so- vereign virtues of his pills, plasters, and self; and so far did he impose upon them, as to vend his packets pretty plentifully, which the apothecary could not forbear beholding with an envious eye, and jocularly asked Mr. Garew if he could nothelp CAMPFYLDE-MOORE-CAREW. UGl His humourous revenge upon the Quack-doctor^ Limto some revenge upon this dangerous rival and antagonist of bis; which he promised him to da effectually. Accordingly he got a little phial, and filled it up >vilh spirits of turpentine; he then mixed in >vith the gaping auditory of this Irish itinerant physician, who was in the midst of them, mountecl on his frt€od adorned with a pompous curb-bridle, with a large parcel of all-curing medicines i^ his bags behind him, and was with a great deal of confi* dence and success, Esculapius like, distributing health around him : we must observe, that out physician had takea his stand among the stalls of orange and gingerbread merchants, shoemakers, glover&j and other such retailers. Mr. Carew therefore approached him, and planted himself close by the horse, and, wetting liis fingers with the spirits, rested his hand upon the steed, as an unconcerned person might have done; at the same time putting aside the hair, he rubbed the turpentine upon the bare flesh, which insensibly beginning to burn and smart, the afflicted quadruped began to express his sense of pain, by flinging his hinder legs, gently sliaking liimself, and other restless motions, which made the poor mountebank wonder what had befallen his horse; but the pam increasing, the disorderly be- liaviour of the steed increased proportionably^ who now began to kick, prance, stand on end, neigh, immoderately shake ,him«elfj utterly disregarding ^62 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF The horse and his rider scitter the ornnsre stfjllss. Sic. both bis bridle and rider, and running a tilt against the stalls of oranges, gingerbread, gloves, breeches, shoes, &c. which he overthrew and trampled under foot; this occasioned a scramble among the boys for the eatables, and there were some who were but too unmerciful to the scattered goods of the poor shoemakers and glovers, who, enraged by (heir several losses, began to curse the (Tocjlor and his Rosinante, who was all this while capering, roaring, and dancing among their oranges, paniiiers of eggs, &c. to the entire ruin of the hucksters, who now began to deal very heavy blows, both on the unfortunate horse and his distressed master. This odd spectacle and adven- ture attracted the eyes and attention of the whole fair, which was all in an uproar, some laughing, some crying, (particularly the poor suffering ped- lars,) some fighiing, and others most unmercifully cursing and swearing ; to make short of the story, the doctor rode about the fair, without either hat or wig, at the pleasure and discretion of his horse, among the ruined and overturned stalls and the dissipated mob, who concluded both the quack and the steed to be either mad or bewitched, and en- joyed their awkward situation. The quack, being no longer able to keep his seat, fell headlong into the miry street; tlie horse rau into a river, and rolled himself over several times, to (he entire confusion and ruin of the inestimable pills and plasters; the doctor employed a good BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. ^263 Our hero, uiib aj».irty of gipseys, turn forruue-tcller-. forricr, and after some time the horse came to him- self again. The reader may very easily judge what glorious diversion this was for the apdthecary and Mr. Carew, who were spectators of the whole scene. He was treated handsomely upon this ac- count, not only b}^ the apothecary, but all otlicrs of the same profession in the town, and several other gentlemen . Upon Mr. Carew's departure from Burton, the generous captain befriended him with many recom- mendatory letters to friends and acquaintance that lay in his road, as he pretended: nay, indeed, he was never out of it ; thence he proceeded to Bristol, and other places where the letters were directed to, and received considerable pieces of money from many on account of these letters, which were mostly to captains of vessels, and gentlemen that had been at sea, with whom he several times passed muster very well; it being by desire of the captain, as was mentioned in the letter, that they examined him. Sometimes he and his wife, in conjunction with Coleman and his wife, being all dressed very genteelly, passed for gipseys of extraordinary knowledge and reputation: many a poor credulous unsuspecting p<*rson became their prey, and many a good booty they got in almost every town of the counties of Cornwall and Devon. One* in parti- cular, himsr^lf, Coleman, and both their spouses, being in Buckford-sleigfij near Exeter, one Col- ^€4> LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF A simple shoemaker comes to consult our conjuror. lard, a wealthy but simple shoemaker, came to their quarters, to consult them on a very intricate and important affair : he told them, *^ that it was the opinion of every body in the country, that liis grandmother had somewhere concealed very large sums of money before her death, and that himself, by several dreams and visions, was con- firmed in the same opinion, and that he thought proper to advise with them upon the affair; not doubting but they, by the help of their profound learning and knowledge, for which they were so famous through the west, were capable of in- forming him in what particular place he might find this concealed treasure, which if they would discover to him, he would give them thirty guineas," Our magicians, after long deliberation and consultation with their books, told him, *^ that if he would that night take a walk with one of them, he should see the spirit of his grandmother ; that he must not be afraid of the apparition, but follow it till it vanished away, and in that individual spot of ground from which the ghost vanished, there he would find the hidden treasure^" In order for the execution of this scheme, Coleman put a woman's cap on his head, washed his face, and sprinkled meal on it while wet, stuck the broken pieces of a tobacco pipe between his teeth, and wrapping his body up in a white sheet, planted himself in the road that CoUard and Mr» BAMPFYLBE-MOORE CAREW* 26*5 He disburses thirty guineas to Mr. Carew. Carew were to come ; the moon at this time shone very bright, which gave an additional horror io the spectre. Mr. Carew, by virtue of his pro- found learning and mysterious science, spoke to it in an unknown language, crying, High, worfy bush rumlet/ to the iogg?/ cull, and ogle him in the muns ; at which command the hobgoblia fierce advanced up to Collard, and with a most ghastly look stared him in the face ; the poor shoe- maker was greatly terrified thereat, trembled and shook as if a fit of the ague had been upon him, and, creeping close -to Mr. Carew, laid fast hold of his clothes, imagining he had sufficient power to protect him from this insolent apparition : where- upon he bid the ghost, hike to the vile; and would have persuaded Collard io have followed Iiis departing grandmother, in order to observe the particular place from which she vanished ; but no persuasions could induce him to move from Lis side. They then returned to the ale-house, and Mr. Carew (this method of conjuration miscarry- ing through the shoemaker's fear,) cast a figure, and informed Crispin, that, if he took up two or three planks of the floor of his little parlour, he would there fin4 the concealed treasure, at the depth of about four ictii upon hearing this joyful news, the shoemaker instantly disbursed the thirty S^uineas, highly extolling them as people of the 266 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF The trick he plays a Presbyterian parson. profoundest skill that he had ever heard of or con- versed with : but whether he was of the same opi- nion when lie came to dig for the treasure, we will not take upon us to say. Happening to be in Brakeness, near Lyming- ton, in the character of a cast-away seaman, he went to the house of Mr. Haze, an eminent and wealthy presbyterian parson, of whom he begged re- lief^ in the most earnest manner he was able, for God's sake, with uplifted eyes and hands, and upon Lis bended knee ; but could not with all his impor- tunity and eloquence obtain a crust of bread or a draught of small beer* Mr. Carew, not used to be unsuccessful, could by no means brook this churlishness of the parson, and thought it highly necessary for the benefit of his community, that it should not go unpunished. He was a great sportsman, and had two fine greyhounds, the one named Hector, the other Fly,; and two excellent spaniels, Cupid and Dido, and an admirable set- ting dog, called Sancho. Mr. Carew therefore, about twelve o'clock at night, paid a second visit to the parson's house, and brought away all these fine dogs with him. After which, he sent a letter to the parson to this purpose : . ** Reverend Sir, *• You err, if you suspect yourself to have peen wronged of your dogs by any of your neigh- BAMPFYLDK-MOORE CARKW. 26? The May or of Went worth fleeced bj Mr. Carew. hours ; (he cast-away seaman, who begged so ear- nestly of you, to whom you would not vouchsafe a crust of bread or a draught of beer, took them away, to teach you anotlier time to behave to un- fortunate strangers more as becomes your profession and your plentiful circumstances." The mayor of Weymoulh, in Dorsetshire, fared little better at his hands. This gentleman was an implacable enemy to all Mr. Carew's sub- jects. He therefore, happening to be in that town, and overhearing the mayor talking with a gentle- man in the street that he was going to dine with captain Colloway, of Upway, he thought this a pro- per opportunity for taking some revenge of the mayor, for the many indignities he had put on his subjects. Having soon got intelligence what suits of clothes the mayor had, and understanding he had a good snuft'-coloured suit, he went to his house^ and informed the mayoress that he was a ,seaman under misfortunes, bad met with the mayor as he was going to dinner with captain Colloway, of Upway, and his worship had sent him to her, giving him orders to receive his snuff-coloured suit ; which the good-natured gentlewoman hearing, with- out any scruple brou:;ht him the coat, waistcoat, and breeches. Mr. Carew being in Bristol at a time when there was a hot press, wherein they not only im- M 2 26s LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Our hero turns plum-puddin» vender. pressed seaman, but able-bodied landmen they could any where meet with, whicli made some fly one way, and some another, putting the city into a great rout and consternation, he, among the rest, knowing himself to have a body of a dangerous bigness, he was willing to secure himself as effec- tually as he possibly could, greatly preferring his own ease to the interest and honour of his king* He therefore set his wife and landlady to work, who with all speed and cleanliness made a great number of small mutton-pies, plum-puddings, cheesecakes, and custards, which Mr. Carew^ in an ordinary female habit, hawked about the city, crying. Plum-pudding, plum-pudding, plum-pud- ding ; hot plum-pudding ; piping hot, smoking hot, hot plum-pudding. Plum-pudding echoed in every street and corner, even in the midst of the eager press-gang, some of whom spent their pen- ny with this masculine pie-woman, and seldom failed to serenade her with many a complimentary title of b and w— « . Arriving at squire Rhodes's seat near Kings- bridge in Devonshire, and knowing the squire had married a Dorsetshire lady, he thought proper also to become a Dorsetshire man, and of Lyme, (which was the place of the lady's nativityjVand applied himself to the squire and his lady, whom he met both together, giving them to understand, that he was lost in a vessel belonging to Lyme. The squire BAMPFYLDE-MOORR CAR?.W. 2^9 Ludicrous civility of a publican. and his lady gave him half-a-crown each, for coun- try's sake, and very well entertained hini at their bouse. This was in the morning. Going from hence, he went to a public-house called Malston-cross, about a quarter of a mile from the squire's: he there fell in company Avith squire Reynolds, squire Ford, Dr. Rhodes, bro- ther to the squire, and several other gentlemen, who were met there to make merry after a hunting mafch. In the afternoon there was a prodigious storm of thunder, lightning, and rain, that con- tinued several hours : in the midst of this violent weather, he (being minded to clear his afternoon's expenses) stript off all his apparel, except a white night-cap, shoes, and breeches, and went to squire Rhodes's. Nothing could look with a more deplo- rable aspect than this naked spcctable, in such tempestuous weather : (he landlord with pity regard- ing his wretched appearance, fetched him a shirt, as he thought, to cover his nakedness; but upon bis endeavouring to put it on, it proved to be a shift belonging to the good woman, his wife, which afforded sufficient diversion to the squire and his lady, who were looking out of the window ; when, calling to him, and inquiring from whence he came, he pretended to have been cast away at Bigbury Bay, during the late violent tem- pest, in a vessel belonging to Poole. Squire Rhodes ordered a Holland shirt, and a suit of 270 LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Three contributions raised upon Mr. Rhodes. broad-cloth clothes to be given him, as also a hearty refreshing drara ; and then, throwing him half-a-crown, dismissed him, not in the least sus- pecting him to be the poor Lyme man, to whom himself and his lady were so liberal in thp morn- ing. Having got this contribution, he returned to the publrc-house, where the gendcmen waited for iiim, (for they were the principal occasion of this last adventure ;) and, being informed by him how be had fared, diverted themselves exceedingly with the stratagem ; and shortly after meeting with squire Rhodes, they discovered the imposition^ and very heartily bantered h4ra thereupon. Some time after this, Mr. Carew, exercising his profession at Modbury, (where squire Rhodes's father lived,) among other houses made his appli- cation to Legassick's, where he by chance was visit- ing. Mr. Carew knocked at the kitchen door, which being opened, he saw his old friend tbs squire, who was then alone, and in a careless man- ner swinging his cane about. As soon as he be- gan to tell his lamentable tale, Mr. Rhodes said, ^' I was twice in one day imposed on by that rogue, Bampfjlde Carew, of whose gang you may very likely be; furthermore, I do not liye here, but am a stranger." Mean time in comes squire Le- gassick with a bottle of wine in his hand, giving Mr. Carew a private wink, to let him understand he knew him, and then very gravely inquired into BAMPFYLDE-MOORE CAREW. 571 Our hero's remarkable adventures concluded. the circumstances of his misfortune, as also of the affairs and inhabitants of Dartmouth, from wlience he pretended to have sailed several times ; of all which he gave a full and particular account ; upon which Mr. Legassick gave him half-a-crown, and recommended him as a real object to Mr. Rhodes, who also made the same present; upon which Mr. Legassick burst out laughing, and, being asked the reason thereof, he could not forbear telling liim, even in Mr. Carew's presence ; when Mr. Rhodes, finding himself thus a third time imposed on, with a great deal of good-nature made himself very merry therewith • Here we shall put' an end, for the present, to this true history of our hero, and we hope, the gentle reader is convinced that he has as good, if not a better, claim to fame and immortality than most of the present heroes of the age. We acknow- ledge he has his faults, but every body knows a perfect character is quite out of fashion, and that the present Excellent writers of the age hold it a sole- cism and absurdity to draw even a fictitious hero without plenty of faults. To draw after nature is the criterion ; that is, an equal quantity of virtue and vice ; or, if the latter preponderate a little, no matter, so their heroes do not fall without temptation, and feel some compunctions of repentance when their passions are cooled ; this is perfection enough, for this is pure nature. Upon this account, we ac- 272 LIFE AND ADVENTURES, &:C. The-virtuesofMr. Carew not ex aggerated. knowledge we have been at no little pains in wri- ting this true history, to throw a veil over some of the virtues of our hero, lest he should be found to exceed the present standard of heroism, and be thought a character out of nature. ^ A DICTIONARY OF THE ^ CANT LANGUAGE. As the Language of the Community of Gipseys is very ex- pressive, and different from .all others, we think we shall gratify the curious by annexing a specimen of it. ABRAM, naked, without clothes, or scarce enough to cover the nakedness. Ambidexter^ one that goes snacks in gaming with both parties; also a Uwyer that takes fees of a plaintiff and defendant at once. jihel'WacketSy Blows given on the palm of the hand with a twisted handkerchief, instead of a ferula; a jocular punish- ment among seamen, who sometimes play at cards for wackets, the looser suffering as many strokes as he has lost games. Ahram Cove^ a cant word among thieves, signifying a naked oi poor man ; also a lusty strorfg rogue. jtdam Tilery a pickpocket's associate, who receives the stolen goods, and ruus off with them. Air and Exercise. He has had air and exercise, i. e. be has been whipped at the cart's tail ; or, as it is generally, though more vulgarly, expressed, at the cart's a-se. Alls, the five alls h a county sign, representing five human fi- gures, each having a motto under him. The first is a king io his regalia ; his motto, I govern all : the second, a bishop io his pontificals; motto, I pr.iy for all : third, a lawyer in his gown ; motto, I plead for all : fourth, a soldier in his regimcntah, fully accoutred ; motto, I fi^ht for all : fifth, a poor countryman with his scythe aud rake ; motto^ I pay for all. Amen Curler^ a parish clerk. Anodyne Necklace, a halter. Arch Rogue, or Dimber Damber Upright Man^ the chief of a gang of thieves or gipseys. Arch Doll, or Arch Doxy^ signifies the same In rank among the fcjD^e caoters or gipseys. M 3 274 A DTCTIONAKY OF ^rd, liol. Autumn Mort^ a married woman; also a female beggar with se- veral children hired or borrowed to excite charity. Jtutumriy a church : also married, Autumn haialer, a preacher, or parson of any sect. Autumn cacklers, or Autumn prick-ears, dissenters of any denomi- nation. Autumn divers, church pick-pockets ; but often used for churchwar- dens, overseers of the poor, sidesmen, and others, who have the management of the poor's money. Aututnnjet, a parson. Babes in the Woody criminals in the stocks, or pillory. Back'd, dead. Badge CoveSy parish pensioners. Balsam, money. Bam, a jocular imposition, the same as humbug. Bandog, a bailiff, or his followers: a Serjeant, or his yoemen; also a fierce mastiff. Banderoy a widow's mourning peak ; .nlso a musical instrument. Baptised, or Christened, rum, brandy> or any other spirits that have been lowered with water. Barker, a salesman's servant that walks before the shop, and cries, Clokes, coats, or gowns^^ what d'ye buy > Barking Irons, pistoli, from their explosion resembling the bow- vow or barking of a dog. Barnacles, a good job, or a snack easily got; also the irons worn in gaols by felons. Barret Fever, he died of the barrel fever; he killed himself by drinking. Battner, an ox. Bambeey a halfpenny. BaudranSy a cat. Beaky a justice of peace, or magistrate. Beard splitter, a whoremaster, or a beadle. Beater Cases, boots. Bellows, the lungs. Belly Cheat y an apron. Beny a foolish fellow. ^ Bill of salcy a widow's weeds. Bingt to go J bing avast; get you gone. Binged avast in a dark* mans ; stole away in the night, Bing we to Rumvilek> vhall we go to London. THE CANT TERMS. 275 Bingo, brandy or other spirituous liquor. Bingo Boy^ a dram drinker. Bingo Mort^ a female dram drinker. Bingawasie, get you hence, be gone. Bingomort, a female drunkard, a she brandy-drinker. Black Fly^ the greatest drawback on the farmer is the blacli fly, i. e. the parson. Bleating Rig, sheep stealing. Blind Harpers, beggars counterfeiting blindness, playing on fid- dles, &c. Black box, a lawyer. Black Indies, Newcastle,, from whence the coals are brought. Black spy, the devil.. Blind cheek, the breech.- Blotcer, a mistress, also a whore. Bluffer, a host, innkeeper, or victualler. Boarding Schoolf Bridewell, Newgate, or any other prison, or bouse of correction. Bob, a shoplifter's assistant, or one that receives and carries off stolen good*. All is bob ; all is safe. Bob Ken, or a Brotonmanken, a good or well fomished bouse. Bone, to apprehend, seize, take, or arrest. Bone Box, the mouth. Shut your bone-box ; shut your mouth. ' Bone Darkmans, a good night. Bone setter, a hard-trotting horse. Booby Hutchy aooe-borse chaise, noddy^ baggy, or leathern bottle. Borde, a shilling. Bouncing cheat, a bottle. Bracket face, ugly, homely^ ill-favoured. ' Budksface, a cuckold. Btffe, a dog. BulVs eye, a crown, or five Shilling piece. Bungf a purse, pocket, or fob. Bur, a hanger on, dependant. Bum BaiUff, a sherirs officer, who arrests debtors ; ?o called per- , haps from following his prey, and being at their bums «r at the vulgar phrase is, hard at theif a-«e9. Blackstonc says, it is a coi rnption of bound bailiff, from their being obliged 1o give bond for their good behaviour. Bum bruther, a schoolmaster. e76 A DICTIONARY OF Bus-napper, a constable. Bus-napper^s Kenchin<, a watchman. Bye blow, a bastard. Calle, a cloke, or gown. CanAr, dumb. Cunniken, the plague. Ctrp, to swear. Captain Queernabs, a fellow in poor clothes, or shabby. Caravarif a good round sum of money about a man. Case, a house, shop, or warehouse. Caster f a cloke. Calf •skin Piddle, a drum. To smack calf's-skin ; to kiss the book in taking an oath. It is held by the St. Giles's casuists, that by kissing one's thumb instead of smacking calf's skin, the guilt of taking a false oath is avoided. Canticle, a parish clerk. Canting, preaching with a whining affected tone, perhaps a cor- ruption of chaunting ; some derive it from Andrew Cant, a famous Scotch preacher, who used that whining manner of expression. Also a kind of gibberish used by thieves and gipseys, called likewise pedlar's French, the slang, &c. &c. Catamaran, an old scraggy woman ; from a kind of float made of spars and yards lashed together, for saving shipwrecked persons. Catch Club, a member of the catch club ; a bum bailiff. Chanticleer, a cock. Charactered, or Lettered, hurnt in the hand. They have palmed the character upon him; they have burned him in the hand. €harm, a picklock. Chates, the gallows. Chats, lice. Chaunter Culls, grub-street writers, who compose songs, carrols. Sic. for ballad singers. i Cherubims, peevish chiliren, because cherubim and seraphim continually do cry, Chife, a knife, file, or saw. Chosen Pells, highwaymen who rob in pairs, in the streets, and squares of London: to prevent beini^ followed by the sound of their horses' shoes on the stones, they shoe them witii leather. Chuck Farthing t a parish clerk. THE CANT TERMS. 277 Clank napper, a silver tankard. CUckman Toad, a watch ; also an appellation for a Wesicountry- man, said to have arisen from the following story : A West- countryman, who had never seen a watcJi, found one on a heath near Pool, which, by th^ motion of the hand, and the noise of the wheels, he concluded to be a living crea- ture of the toad kind; and, from its clicking, he named it a clickman toad.' ClovceSy rogues. Cloyts, thieves, robbers, &c. Cltfy money ; also a pocket. He had filed the cly ; he has picked a pocket. Cold burnings a punishment inflicted by private soldiers, on their comrades for trrfljng offences or breach of Iheir mess laws; it is administered in the following nxinner: The prisoner is set against the wall, with the arm which is to burned tied as high above his head as possible. The executioner then ascends a stool, and, having a bottle of cold water, pours it Blowly down the sleeve of the delinquent, patting him, and leading the water gently down his body, till it runs out at his breeches knees : this is repeated to the other arm, if he is sentenced to be burned in both, Cloaky a silver tankard. Coach tcheel, or a fore coach-wheel, half-a-crown ; a hind coflcA* wheel, a crown, or five-shilling piece. CobbUcotterp a turnkey. Collar Day, execution day. Colquarron, a man's neck. Comefa, a ih'irt, or shift. Commission, a shirt. Comfortable impudence, a wife. Cooler, a won.au. Costard, the head. Court Card, a gay fluttering coxcomb. Cow's baby, a calf. Cow-handed, awkward, not dextrous, ready, oroimble. Crab Shells, shoes. Cramp JVord, sentence of death passed on a criminal by a .judge. He has just undergone the cramp word; bentence has just been passed oo him. Crew, a knot or ^tinf^ ; also a boat or ship's company. The cant- ing crew are thus divided into twcuty-thcee orders. 2/8 A DICTIONARY OF MEN. 1 Rufflers 9 Jarkmen, or Patricoes 2 Upright Men 10 Fresh Water Mariners, or 3 Hookers or Anglers Whip Jackets 4 Rogues 11 Drummerers 5 Wild Rogues 12 Drunken Tinkers^ - 6 Triggers of Prancers 13 Swaddlers, or Pedlars 7 Palliards 8 Fraters 14 Abraras WOMEN. 1 Demanders for Glira- 5 Walking Morts. mer or Fire. - 6 Doxies. 2 Bawdy Baskets. 7 Delles. 3 Morts. 8 Kinchin Morts. 4 Autumn Morts. 9 Kinchin Covos,.- Crackmans, hedges. Crooky sixpence. Croker, a groat, or fourpence, Croppen, the tail of any thing. Cucumbers^ tailors. Culp, a kick or blow. Cup lioty drunk. Cursitors, broken petty fogging attornies, or Newgate solicitors.. Ciissiny a man. Darbies, fetters^ Darbyy ready money. Dace, two pence ; Tip me a dace, lend me two pen^e. Bag, a gun. Damher, or Dimher, a rascal. Dancers, stairs. Darkmans, night. Dash, a tavern drawer, Dawhe, a bribe or reward for secret servicCi. Decus, a crown. Degen, a sword. t Diddle, gin. Diggers, spufs. timber Dambery a top man, or prince among the canting crew j. also the chief rogue of the gang, or the completest cheat. Dimbermort, a pretty w ench. i)oash, acloke. Dobin Rig, Stealing; ribbands from haberdashers early in the morn- ing, or late at night ; generally practised by womea m tb« disguise of maid servants^ THE CANT TERMS 279 Doctor, milk .ind water, with a little rum, and some nutmeg ; also the name of a composition used by distilFers, to make spirits appear stronger than they really are. Doctors, loaded dice that will run but two or three chinces. They put the doctors upon him; they cheated him with loaded dice. Dodsey, a woman: perhaps a corruption of Doxcy. Drumbelow, a dull fellow. Duntiker, a stealer of cows and calves. EriJjTi, rogues just initiated, and beginning to practice. Eternity Box, a coffin. Facer, a bnmper without lip room. FamilieMy rings. Famms, hands. Fastener, a warrant. Fatcney, a ring. Feeder, a spoon. To nab the feeder; to steal a spoon. Fermerdy Beggars, all those who have not the sham sores pr clymes. Ferret, a pawn-broker, or tradesman, that sells goods to young spendthrifts, upon trust at excessive rates, and then hunts them -without mercy, and often throws them into jail, where they perish for their debt. Fidlam Beriy general thieves; called also St. Peter's sons, having every finger a fish-hook. Flag, a groat. Flash, a periwig. Faybottomist, a bum-brushcr, or schoolmaster. Flicking, to cut, cutting ; as flick me some panea and cassan, cut me some bread and cheese. Flicker, a drinking gloss. Flute, the recorder of Loodoo, or any other town^ Flyers, shoes. Fogus, tobacco. Tip me a gage of fogus ; give roc a pipe of tobaccc Frummagemm'd, choked, strangled, or hanged. Froglanderi, Dutchmen. Furmen, aldermen. Oan, a mouth. Cans, the lips. Gage, a pot or pipe* George, tf half-crown piece. Yellow George, a guinea* BrowD George, ao ammaanioo loaf. Gem, fire. 2S0 A DICTIONARY OF Gentry cove, a gentleman, George, a half-crown piece. Gibberish; the cant language of thieves and gipseys called Ped- lars French, St. Giles's Greek, and the Flash tongue. Also the mystic language of Geber, used by chymists. Gibbe- rish likewise means a sort of disguised language, formed by inserting any consonant between each syllable of an English word; in which case it is called the gibberish of the letter inserted : if F, it is the F gibberish : if G, the G gibberish ; as in the sentence. How do you do ? Howg dog youg dog ? Gigg, a nose. Snitcbel his gigg ; fillip his nose. Grunter's gigg ; a hog's snout. Gigg is also a high one-horse chaise. Gipseys, a set of wandering vagrants found in the country. When a fresh recruit is admitted into this fraternity, he is to take the following oath, administered by the principal maunder, after going through the annexed forms ; First, a new name is given him, by which he is ever after to be called; then, standing up in the middle of the assembly, and directing his face to the dimber damber, or principal man of the gang, he repeats the following oath, which is dictated to him by some experienced member of (he fraternity : I, Crank Cufiin, do swear to be a true brother, and that I will in all things obey the commands of the great tavvney prince, and keep his council, and not divulge the secrets of my brethren. I will never leave nor forsake the company, but observe and keep all the times of appointment, either by day or by night in every place whatever- I will not teach any one to cant, nor will I disclose any of our mysteries to them. 1 will take my prince's part against all that shall oppose hiro, or any of us, according to the utmost of my ability : nor will I sutfer him, or any one belonging to us, to be abused by any strange abrams, rufflers, hookers, pailliards, swaddlers, Irish toyles, swigmen, whip jacks, jarkmen, bawdy baskets, dom- merars, clapper dogeons, patricoes, or curtails; but will de- fend him, or them, as much as I can, against all other out- liers whatever. L will not conceal aught I win out of libkins, or from tjie ruffmans, but I will preserve it for the use of the com- pany. Lastly, I will cleave to my doxy wap stiffly, and will bring her duds, margery praters, goblers, grunting cheats, ortibs of the buttery, or any thing else I can come at, as winnings for her Wap pings. Gigger, a door. Globe, pewter. Glucpoty a parson ; from joining men and. women together ia matrimony. Glaziers, eyes. GUniy a dark lantern. THE CANT TERMS. 281 Glimfenderst hand-irons. GHmstickt a candlestick. Coaler's eoachy a h\iTd\e. Goose Riding : a goose, whose neck is greased, I>eing suspended by the legs, to a cord tied to two trees or high posts, a number of men on horseback, riding full speed, attempt to pull off the head ; which if they effect, the goose is their prize. This has been practised in Derbyshire within the memory of persons now living. Grannan gold, old hoarded coin. Green bag, a lawyer. Grig, a farthing. Gropers, blind men. Gutter-lane, the throat. - Hammer, a great lie, a rapper. Halberhead, a silly foolish fellow. Half nab, at a venture, unsight, unseen, hit or mils. Halfbord, sixpence. Hams, breeches. Hamlet, a high constable. Hanktel, a sillow fellow, a mere cod's-head. Hansen kelder, a jack in the box, the child in the womb, or a health to it. Harman, a constable. Harmans, the stocks. Harmenbeck, a beadle. J/avk, a sharper. Hazel golds, to beat any one with a hazel stick, or plant. Hearingcherts, cars. Heaver, the breast. Hell, the place where the tailors lay up their cabbage or temRants, which are sometimes very large. Hempen widow, one whose husband was hanged. Henf right, those commanders and officers who are absolutely swayed by their wives. High tide, when the pocket is full of money. Hocus, diigQised in liquor, druAk. Hodmendods, snails in their shells. Hoggrubber, a close-fisted, narrow-souledi sneaking-fellow. Ilvp-merchantf a danciog master. 2S'2 A DICTIONARY OF Hum-box, a pulpit. Humpti^ dumpty, alehoWedvi'itUhmndy. Hums, persons at church. Huskylour, a job, a guinea. Iren doublet, a parson. Itchland, Scotland. Jackrum, a licence. JacJc ^dams, a fool, Jack-a-dandy, a little impertinent insignificant fellow. Jack in a box, a sharper or cheat. Jack at a pinch, a poor hackney parson* Jacobites, sham, or collar shirts. J ark, a seal. Jet, a lawyer. KeHy a house* Kicks, b-refeches* Kill Devil, rum. Kinchin, a little child. King''s pictures, money. Laced mutton, a woman. Jjag, last, Lage, water. Lage duds, a buck of clothes. Lambskin men, the judges of several courts. Lansprisado, he that conies into company with only twopence i» his pocket. Lantern. J dark lantern, the servant or agent that receives the bribe at court. Libben, a private dwelling-house. Libbege, a bed. Lifter, a crutch, Lightmans, the day, or day-break, Jjine of the old author, a dram of brandy. Little Barbary, Wapping. Lop'd, run away ; he lop'd up the dancers ; he whipped up the dancers. Loge, **watch. Louse ttap, a comb, Low-tide, w hen there's no money in a man^s pocket. THE CANT TERMS. 283 Mannikitij a dwarf or diminutiTe fellow. Maunders, beggars. Naundtring breath, scolding. ^fgg^i guineas. Meet, to spend money. Millclapper, a woman's tongue. Mist, a contraction of commission, signifying a shirt, smock, or sheet. Mishtoppery a coat, or petticoat, Moabites, sergeants, bailifis, and their crew, Moon-curser, a link-boy. Mower, a cow. Muck, money, wealth. Muttonmonger, a lover of women. Uutlon in long coats, women ; a leg of mutton In a silk stocking, i woman's leg. Naby a hat, cap, or head ; also a coxcomb, NeW a fare but his ottn, not a penny in his pocket. Nim gimmer, a doctor, a surgeon, or apothecary, Nubbing cheat, the gallows. Nut-crackers, a pillory. Oak, a rich man of good fobstance and ciedit. Ogles, eyes. * Rum oglesy fine bright, clear, piercing eyet. One in ten, a parson. Panum, bread. -Panler, a heart. Pantler, a butler. Peeptr, a looking-glass. Fetery a portmanteau, or cloke*bag. Peg tandrums, as Gone to peg tandrums, dead. Penance boards, a pillory. Penthouse nab, a very broad brimmed hat, PrriKinkle, a peruke or wig. Philistines, scrjeants, bailiffs, and their crew. Porker, a sword. *<• Property, a mere tool or implement to serve a (urn ; a cat\ foot. 284 A DICTIONARY OF Quail pipe, a woman's tongue. Queer cujffin, a justice of peace, also a churl. Rabbit suckers, young spendthrifts, taking goods on lick of pawn- brokers or tallymen, at excessive rates. Rattling covey a coachman. Med rag^ a tongue; your red rag will never lie still, your tongue will never be quiet. JlegraCet*Sy forestaliers in markets. JRibbeuy money. JRumboyled, sought after with a warrant. Rotariy a coach, or waggon, or any thing that runs upon wheels 5^ but principally a cart. Royster, a rude roaring fellow. Ruffiuy the devil. Ruffmans, the woods or bushes. Rumbeck, any justice of peace. Rumba, a prison or gaK)l. Rumboozing welts, bunches of grapes. Rum clank, a large silver tankard. Rum degen, a silver hilted or inlaid sword, Rumdropper, a vintner. School-butter, a whipping. Sconce, to build a large sconce, to run deep upon tick or trust. Seeds, poor, moneyless, exhausted. Setters, or setting-dogs, they that draw in bubbles for old game- sters to rook ; also a Serjeant's yeoman, or bailiff's foUower.. or second j also an excise-officer. Sharper^ s tools y false dice. Shot, clapt, or poxed. Shove the tumbler, whipped at the cart's tail. Skinflint, a griping, sharping, close clown : also the same as flat. Smear, a painter, or plasterer. Smeller, a nose. Sm'tUing cheat, a nosegay ; also an orchard, or garden. Smiter, an arm. Smug, a blacksmith, also neat and spruce. Smite, to wipe or slap. Snitch, to eye or see any body ; the cub snitches, the man eyei or sees you. THE CANT TERMS. 285 Snouty a hogshead. Sock, a pocket. Son of prattlemenfy a lawyer* Soul driver, a parson. South-sea mountaitif geneva. Sow^s bahjfy a pig. Spanish money, fair words and corapliinent?. Spanks, money, gold, or Silver. Specked wiper, a coloured handkerchief. Spiritual flesh broker, a parson* Split flgs, a grocer. Splitter of causes^ a lawyer. Spoil pudding, a parson who makes his mormng sermon too long. Squirriih, foolish. Stamps, legs. Stampers, shoes, also carriers. Stick flamsy a pair of gloves. Stoter, a great blow. Strommel, straw or hair. Strum, a perriwig; Rum-strum, a long wig. Stubble it, hold your tongue. SuH and cloke, good store of brandy, or agreeable liquor. Supouch, a hostess or landlady. Sttag, a shop ; Rum swag, full of riches. Tagmans, a gown or cloke. Tears of the tankard, drops of good liquor that falls beside. Thrums, tbreppence. Tip of the buttery, a goose. ^iPt to give or lend. Top diver, a lover of women. Topping o!\eat, the gaWows, Topping cove, the hangman. Topt, te go out sharp, to be upon one's guard. To twig, to disengage, to sunder, to snap, to break oti\ To twig the darbies, to knock off the irons. Track, to go. Trees, wins threepence. Trib, a pri<»on. Trine, to hang, also Tybnm. Trooper, a half-crown. Trundles, pease. 28(3 A DICTIONARY Of, &C. Tumbler^ a cart. Turkey merchant^ driver of turkeys. Vampevs, stockings. Velvet, a tongue. To tip the velvet f to tongue a woman. Vinegar^ a cloke. Wattles^ ears. Whids, words. IFhipshirey Yorkshire. Whohally a milk-maid. Whuker, a great lie. White wooly silver. Whibble, sad drink, JFhiddle^ to tell or discover. He whiddles : he peaches. He whiddles the whole scrap : he discovers all he knows, ^fhe cull vv-hiddled because they would not tip him a snack ; the fellow peached because they would not give hira a share. They whid- dle beef, and we must bruih j they cry out thieves, and we must^ make off. JVhinyard, a sword. To whip off, to run away, to drink off greedily, to snatcli^ He 'whipped away from home, went to the ale-house, where he '' whipped off a full tankard, and coming back whipped off a fel- low's hat from his head. White Sicellingy a woman big with child is said to have a white sivelling. Witcher,^a. silver bowl. Womhlety cropt, the indisposition of a drunkard, after a debauch in wine or other liquors. Wooden Ruff^ a pillory ; he wore the wooden ruff, he stood in the pillory. Wordpecker^ one that plays with words, a punster. Yam, to eat heartily, to stuff lustily. Yarmouth capon, a red herring. Yarumf milk, or food made of milk. Yelper, a town crier; also one subject to complain or make pitiful lamentations of tritling incidents. Znees, frost, or frozen. Zneesy vceather, frosty weather. FINIS. Hamblin & Seyfang, Pi inters, Garli ck - hill. BOOKS lately published^ AND SOLD BY ALL BOOKSELLERS. THE CALEDONIAN MUSICAL REPOSl- TORY, containing aselection of the m )St esteemed Scotiih Songs, set to Music. Uniformly printed, and forming a Companion to Cros- by's English Repository. An enlarged Edition, with a Plate and Vignette, 4s. 6d. boards. 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