Chapter V (6)

The justice thought proper to send these useful men to their respective parishes, at the public expense: accordingly Mr. Carew, with his wife and daughter, were ordered to Bickley, in Devonshire. The Sherborne people waited upon them to Yeovil, where they were delivered to the care of the chief magistrate. The next day, horses being provided, they set out for Thomas Proctor's, Esq., at Cocker: but, he refusing to sign the pass, they proceeded to Axminster, where the magistrate refused to receive them, on account of the pass not being signed; upon which they would have left Mr. Carew, but he insisted upon being accomodated to the end of his journey, they therefore adjourned to Mr. Tucker'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 Bickley; and he replying that he did not choose to have them dismissed, Mr. Tucker signed the warrant, and our hero, with his wife and daughter, rode all the way very triumphantly into Bickley, where, as soon as they arrived, the bells were set a ringing, and the greatest joy spread through all the place.

Mr. Carew remained some time at Bickley, but fresh news arriving every day of the progress of the rebels, that insatiable curiosity which had always actuated his breast, prompted him to go and see the army of the rebels: he therefore, taking his leave of his wife and daughter, though they entreated him with tears not to go to the North, made the best of his way towards Edinburgh.

After some days travel, Mr. Carew arrived at the city of Edinburgh, which lies in a sort of a valley, between two hills, one of which is called Salisbury Crags, the other marks the foundation of the castle. It was strongly walled, and is adorned with public and private buildings. At the extremity 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 hence, 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 gradually, being no where steep; but this ascent being continued for so long a way, it is easy to understand that the furthest part must be necessarily very high; for the castle, which stands as it were at the extremity, west, as the palace does east, makes on all sides (that only excepted which joins it to the city) a frightful and inaccessible precipice. The castle is situated on a high rock, and strongly fortified with a great number of towers, so that it is looked upon as impregnable. In the great church they 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 are played on by 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 treddles, 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 upon 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 side 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' library, 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 descent; some of them are no less than fourteen stories high backwards. Holyrood house is a very handsome building, rather convenient than large; it was formerly a royal palace and an abbey, founded by King David I. 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 re-edificed by King Charles the second, and of which his grace the Duke of Hamilton 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, in form of an imperial crown, balustrated 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 (as well as the rest) by Charles II, whereof Sir William Bruce was the architect. The inner court is very stately, all of free-stone, well hewn, with a colonade round it, 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 there had a sight of the Pretender's son, and other commanders. He afterwards accompanied them to Derby, where a report was spread, that the Duke of Cumberland was coming to fight them; upon which, their courage failing, though the Pretender's son was for fighting, they retreated back to Carlisle; upon which he thought it time to leave them, and hopped homewards on his crutches, taking care to change his note to "God bless King George, and the brave Duke William!" Coming into Bristol, he met with one Mr. P---, an apothecary, who had formerly known him at St. Mary Ottery, in Devon. Mr. P--- was very glad to see him, and took him to a tavern, where he treated him very handsomely, and then sent for his wife, sister, 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 with him, they would have him to try his fortune in that city, but to take care of the mint. Accordingly he went to a place of rendezvous of the brothers of the mendicant order in Temple-street, equipped himself in a very good suit of clothes, and then went upon the Exchange, as the supercargo of a ship called the Dragon, which had been burnt by lightning off the Lizard point. By this story he raised a very handsome contribution 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 his friend Mr. P---, the apothecary, and, knocking at the door, asked if he was at home; upon which Mr. P---, came forth, and, not knowing 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 he had met with an accident, and burnt his elbow; upon which Mr. P--- ran behind his counter, and reached down a pot of salve, desiring, with a great deal of complaisance, the favour of looking at his elbow; he then discovered himself, which occasioned no little diversion to Mr. P--- and his family, who made him very welcome.

Going back to his quarters, he laid aside his finery, and dressed himself more meanly, like to a labouring mechanic; he then went into the street, and acted like a madman, talking in a raving manner about Messrs. Whitfield and Wesley, as though he was disordered in his mind by their preaching; calling in a furious manner at every step upon the Virgin Mary, Pontius Pilate, and Mary Magdalen, and acting the part of a man religiously mad. Sometimes he walked with his eyes 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 him, but he answered every thing they said in a wild and incoherent manner; and, as compassion is generally the forerunner of charity, he was relieved by the most of them.

The next morning he appeared in a morning-gown, still acting the madman, and carried it so far now, as to address himself to all the posts in the streets, as if they were saints, lifting up his hands and eyes in a fervent though distracted manner to heaven, and making use of so many extravagant 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 insisted, in a raving manner, he should tell him who was the father of the morning star; which frightened 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 stratagem, he left the city next day, and travelled towards Bath, acting the madman all the way till he came to Bath. As soon as he came there, he inquired for Dr. Cooney's, and being directed to his house, found two brother mendicants at the door; after they had waited some time, the servant brought 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 Dr. came out with one of his daughters, and gave him sixpence and a mug of drink, for which he returned thanks.

The next day he went to Mr. Allen's seat, near Bath, and sent in a petition as from a poor lunatic, by which he got half-a-crown. From thence he made the best of his way to Shepton Mallet, when, calling at Mr. Hooper's, and telling the servant who he was, the mistress ordered him in, and inquired if he was really the famous Bampfylde Carew; she then gave him five shillings, and ordered him to be well entertained. At Shepton Mallet our hero had the pleasure of meeting with his beloved wife, to their mutual joy and satisfaction; and finding several brethren of the order there, they passed some days together with much mirth and harmony.

Going near Rye, in Sussex, (where, upon account 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 town, 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 this, entreated 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 ingenuity to overcome, he was resolved to enter Rye; which he did with a very slow, feeble, and tottering pace, stopping every minute by the most violent fits of coughing, whilst every limb shook with an universal palsy, his countenance appearing rather to be the property of some one among the dead than to belong to any living body: in this manner he crept along to the mayor's house, and in a most lamentable moan begged some relief. The mayor, seeing so deplorable a figure, said he was indeed a real object of pity; and therefore gave 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 there; and found it so thronged with English soldiers, (it being soon after the reducing of the army,) that had he not known the contrary, he should have thought himself in some town in England. Some of the soldiers knowing him, cried out, Here's Bampfylde Moore Carew! upon which they took him along with them to their quarters, and they passed the day very merrily: 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 either starved or hanged. He then inquired how they lived in France? 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 in. Whilst he was here, the Duke of Richmond arrived, in his way to Paris; who, seeing many English soldiers, asked some of them why they came there? to which they replied, they should have been either starved or hanged if they had staid in England. Mr. Carew intended to have paid his respects to his grace, but had not an opportunity; and soon after, being taken very ill, was obliged to desist from his intended design of making a tour through France, Germany, &c.

He 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 relief from the mayor, under the name of John Moore, a native of St. Ives, in Cornwall, who had been cast away on the coast of France, in a vessel coming from Ireland. Having borne this character as long as suited his inclination, he metamorphosed himself again, and appeared in quite a different shape. He now wore a full handsome tie-wig, but a little changed by age; a good beaver hat, somewhat duffy; a fine broad-cloth coat, but not of the newest fashion, and not a little faded in its colour. He was now a gentleman of an ancient family and good estate, but reduced by a train of uncommon misfortunes. His venerable looks, his dejected countenance, the visible struggles between the shame of asking and the necessity which forced him to it, all operated to move the pity of those he applied to, which was generally shown by handsome contributions, for few could think of offering mites to a gentleman of so ancient a family, and who had formerly lived so well; and indeed how much soever we may envy the great in their prosperity, we are as ready to relieve them in their misfortunes.

Mr. Carew happening to be in the city of Wells, in Somersetshire, on a Sunday, was told that the bishop was to preach that morning: upon which he slips on a black waistcoat and morning-gown, and went out to meet the bishop as he was walking 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 five shillings. From Wells he steered to Bridgewater, but did not appear in the day-time, 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 had just returned from his travels 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---, 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 Clifford's, but being saluted at the door by a fine black spaniel, with almost as much crustiness 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 crossness of the spaniel, and made him follow him to Bridgewater; for it is very remarkable "that the art has been found of taming the most 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 ill-nature of man exceeds that 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 Clifford'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, for 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 to the Red Lion, in the same parish, where he staid some time. In the mean time down ran the parson to my Lord Clifford's, to acquaint him that Mr. Carew was in the parish, and to advise him to take care of his dogs; so that Mr. Carew, coming down immediately after, found a servant with one dog in his arms, and another with another: here one stood whistling and another calling, and both my lord and his brother were running about to seek after their favourites.

Mr. Carew asked my lord what was the meaning 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 imagine he was come to steal any of them. Upon which his lordship told him, that parson C--- had advised him to be careful, as he had lost his spaniel but the day before. It 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 always 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, our hero 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 school-fellows Martin, Escott, and Coleman. The mayor of that corporation, a bitter enemy to their community, jocosely said, that 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 apprehended and confined in a dark hole, which greatly terrified them with the apprehension of severe punishment. After one night's repose in limbo, he sent a physician or surgeon of most profound skill and judgment to them, who brought the keys of their melancholy apartments, and pretending greatly to befriend them, advised them, if there were any of them counterfeits, to make haste out of the town, or otherwise they must expect no mercy from the mayor, unknown to whom he had privately stolen the keys; then, unlocking the 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: the blind made shift to see the way out of town; and the deaf themselves, with great attention, hearkened to this their friend, and followed his advice with all possible speed. The mayor, with the aldermen and several gentlemen, planted themselves opposite to the prison, and were spectators to this diverting scene, calling out to stop them, not with an intention to do them any prejudice, but only of adding a spur to their speed: however there were some who were ready enough to lay hold on them, and our hero, in a struggle of this nature, left a skirt of his garment behind him, which might be done without much violence, as we may reasonably conclude it to have been none of the soundest; and Coleman was so closely pursued, that he plunged into the river, and swam to the opposite shore: in short, so well did these cripples ply their limbs, that none 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 whole corporation was exceeding kind to him.

One method of gaining his ends our hero had peculiar to himself. He used with great intent to read the inscriptions on tombs and monuments 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 imaginable, implore their charity for the sake of their deceased relation, praying they would follow the laudable and virtuous example of their dead husband, wife, father, mother, or the like; hoping there was the same God, the same spirit of piety, religion, and charity, still dwelling in the house as before the death of the person deceased. These and the like expressions, uttered in a most suppliant and pathetic voice, used to extort not only very handsome contributions, but tears from the person to whom he applied.

Some time after this, he engaged, at Burton, in Somersetshire, in the habit and character of a seaman, cast away in coming from Newfoundland, with a captain, who, by his great severity, had rendered himself the terror of all the mendicant order; but he, relying upon his perfect acquaintance with the country, ventured up to him, had the best entertainment his house afforded, and was honourably dismissed with a considerable piece of money. Captains H---h and N---n, with both of whom our hero had sailed, were intimate 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 manner, 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 kindness, as if he thought he could never do enough; it is to be remarked, that he passed rather for a passenger than a seaman.

In the same town lived Lord B---y, who 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 circumstance relating thereto, and made it his business to meet his lordship as he came out of church. After his first application, he gave his lordship to understand, that he was a spectator of the burial of his son on board the Antelope; at the same time came up this critical captain, who gave him the character of a man of great veracity, so that his lordship gave him a guinea, his eldest son five shillings, and also good entertainment from the house. This happened to be a fair day; he thereupon, going into the town, was accosted by an apothecary, who whispered him in the ear, saying, that he knew him to be the famous Bampfylde Moore Carew, and had most grossly imposed upon the captain and the town, but at the 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 of argument, most loudly harangued, entertaining them in a very florid manner with the sovereign 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. Carew if he could not help him to some revenge upon this dangerous rival and antagonist of his; which he promised him to do effectually.

Accordingly he got a little phial, and filled it up with spirits of turpentine; he then mixed in with the gaping auditory of this Irish itinerant physician, who was in the midst of them, mounted on his steed adorned with a pompous curb-bridle, with a large parcel of all-curing medicines in his bags behind him, and was with a great deal of confidence and success, AEsculapius like, distributing health around him: we must observe, that our physician had taken his stand among the stalls of orange and gingerbread merchants, shoemakers, glovers, and other such retailers.

Mr. Carew therefore approached him, and planted himself close by the horse, and, wetting his 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 immediately beginning to burn and smart, the afflicted quadruped began to express his sense of pain, by flinging his hinder legs, gently shaking himself, and other restless motions, which made the poor mountebank wonder what had befallen his horse; but the pain increasing, the disorderly behaviour of the steed increased proportionably, who now began to kick, prance, stand on end, neigh, immoderately shake himself, utterly disregarding both his 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 their several losses, began to curse the doctor and his Rosinante, who was all this while capering, roaring, and dancing among their oranges, panniers 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 adventure attracted the eyes and attention of the whole fair, which was all in an uproar, some laughing, some crying, (particularly the poor suffering pedlars,) some fighting, 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 enjoyed their frolicsome situation.

The doctor, being no longer able to keep his seat, fell headlong into the miry street; the horse ran into a river, and rolled himself over several times, to the entire confusion and ruin of the inestimable pills and plasters; the doctor employed a good farrier, and after some time the horse came to himself again. The reader may very easily judge what glorious diversion this was for the apothecary and Mr. Carew, who were spectators of the whole scene. He was treated handsomely upon this account, not only by the apothecary, but all others 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 recommendatory 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 sums 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 letters, that they examined him.

Sometimes he and his wife, in conjunction with Coleman and his wife, being all dressed genteelly, passed for gipseys of extraordinary knowledge and reputation: many a poor credulous unsuspecting person became their prey, and many a good booty they got in almost every town of the counties of Cornwall and Devon. Once in particular, himself and Coleman, with both their spouses, being in Buckford-sleigh, near Exeter, one Mr. Collard, 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 his grandmother had somewhere concealed very large sums of money before her death, and that himself, by several dreams, was confirmed 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 informing him in what particular place he might find this particular 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 would 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 in a white sheet, planted himself in the road that Collard and Mr. Carew were to come; the moon at this time shone very bright, which gave an additional horror to the pretended spectre. Our hero, by virtue of his supposed profound learning and most mysterious science, spoke to it in an unknown language, to the following effect:--"High, wort, bush rumley to the toggy cull, and ogle him in the muns;" at which command the terrific hobgoblin fiercely advanced up to poor Collard, and with a most ghastly look stared him in the face; the shoemaker was greatly terrified thereat, and shook and trembled 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 the threatening appearance of this insolent apparition; whereupon he bid the ghost, "hike to the vile;" and would have persuaded the frightened Collard to have followed his departing grandmother, in order to observe the particular place from which she vanished; but no persuasions of his could induce him to move from his side.

They then returned to the alehouse they had left, and Mr. Carew (this method of conjuration miscarrying 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 find the concealed treasure, at the depth of about three or four feet: upon his hearing this joyful news, the shoemaker instantly disbursed the thirty guineas, highly extolling them as people of the profoundest skill that he had ever heard of or conversed with: but whether he was of the same opinion when he came to dig for the treasure, we will not take upon us to say--but we may suppose the contrary.

Happening, a short time after this, to be in Brakeness, near Lymington, in the character of a cast-away seaman, he went to the house of Mr. Joseph Haze, an eminent and wealthy presbyterian parson, of whom he begged relief, in the most earnest manner he was able, for God's sake, with uplifted eyes and hands, and upon his bended knee; but could not with all his importunity and eloquence obtain a crust of bread, or a draught of small beer. Mr. Carew, not accustomed to be unsuccessful in his applications, 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 setting dog, called Sancho. Our hero, therefore, about twelve o'clock on the same night, paid a second visit to the parson's house, and brought away all these fine dogs with him. And afterwards he sent a letter to the parson, to this purpose:--

"REV. SIR,

"You err, if you suspect yourself to have been wronged of your dogs
by any of your neighbours; the cast-away seaman, who begged so
earnestly, for the love of God, to whom you would not vouchsafe a
crust of bread, or a draught of small beer, took them away, to teach
you another time to behave to unfortunate strangers more as becomes
your profession, and your plentiful circumstances."

The mayor of Weymouth, in Dorsetshire, fared little better at his hands. This gentleman was an implacable enemy to all Mr. Carew's subjects. He therefore, happening to be in that town, and overhearing the mayor talking to a gentleman in the street, and saying that he was going to dine with Captain Colloway, of Upton, he thought this a proper 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 snuff-coloured suit, he went to his house, and informed the lady mayoress that he was a seaman under misfortunes, had met with the mayor, as he was going to dinner at Captain Colloway's, of Upton, and his honour had sent him to her, giving him orders to receive his snuff-coloured suit of clothes from her; which the good natured gentlewoman hearing, without the least scruple, quickly brought him the coat, waistcoat, and breeches. Thus our hero, by turning his natural ingenuity to account, procured a handsome suit of clothes, while, at the same time, he was revenging himself upon his enemy; fulfilling the old proverb of killing two dogs with one stone. It is unnecessary to say, that our hero departed from Weymouth forthwith.

Mr. Carew being in Bristol, at a time when there was a hot press, wherein they not only impressed seamen, but able-bodied landmen they could any where meet with, which 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 rather a dangerous bigness, he was willing to secure himself as effectually 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 proper attention to cleanliness, made a great number of small mutton-pies, plum-puddings, cheesecakes, and custards, which our hero, in the ordinary attire of a female vender of these commodities, hawked about the city, crying, Plum-pudding, plum-pudding, plum-pudding; 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 penny with this masculine pie-woman, and seldom failed to serenade her with many a complimentary title, such as bitch and whore.

Arriving at Squire Rhodes's seat, near King's-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 nativity, and 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 and his lady gave him five shillings each, for country's sake, and entertained him very well at their own house. This was early in the forenoon, and he wished to put off his time a little, before proceeding upon another adventure.

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 into company with Squire Reynolds, Squire Ford, Dr. Rhodes, brother to the squire, and several other gentlemen, who were met there to make happy after a hunting-match, in which they had been uncommonly successful, and were much inclined to be jovial. In the afternoon there was a terrific storm of rain, thunder, and lightning, that continued with great violence for several hours: in the midst of this tempestuous weather, he (having a great mind to clear his afternoon's expenses) stripped off all his apparel, except his nightcap, shoes, and breeches, and went to Squire Rhodes's. Nothing could possibly look with a more deplorable appearance than this naked and wretched spectacle, in such dreadful weather: the landlord with pity regarding his destitute appearance, fetched him a shirt, as he thought, to cover his nakedness; but upon his endeavouring to put it on, it proved to be a smock belonging to the good woman of the house, which afforded a great deal of diversion to the good squire and his benevolent lady, who happened to be looking from their window enjoying the mistake; when, calling to him, and inquiring from whence he came, he pretended to have been cast away at Bigbury-bay, during the late violent tempest, in a vessel belonging to Poole, and he was the only person on board that had escaped. Squire Rhodes ordered a fine Holland shirt, and a suit of good clothes to be given to him, as also a hearty refreshing dram; and then, kindly giving him five shillings, dismissed him with every mark of commiseration for his unfortunate condition, not in the least suspecting him to be the poor Lyme man, whom both his lady and himself had been so generous in relieving his wants in the morning. Having succeeded so much to his satisfaction in levying two contributions, in one day, on the benevolent Squire Rhodes and his lady, he quickly determined on making another trial upon their good-nature: for which purpose he retired to the nearest house which was frequented by the members of his community, where he dressed himself as a farmer, and speedily returned to the squire's, to whose presence he was admitted. He stated that he had been a tenant on the estate of Squire H---, (a gentleman between whom and Squire Rhodes he knew there was a disagreement of long standing,) for many years, where he had reared a numerous and happy family in respectability: that about three years ago the squire had seduced his eldest daughter, a handsome girl of eighteen years, who died in giving birth to a still-born son: that his wife had died shortly after of a broken heart, and he was left to struggle through the world with a helpless family of young children: that, through bad crops and bad debts, he had fallen in arrears of his rent; and his cruel landlord had seized upon his whole stock, and turned him out of his favourite home, to become a destitute wanderer--destitute of food, shelter or clothing for himself and family. The benevolent Squire Rhodes whose ear was ever open to the tale of pity--whose heart was ever ready to relieve the unfortunate, after venting many imprecations on the hard-hearted squire, bestowed a guinea on the poor farmer.

Having obtained this third contribution from the unsuspecting squire, he returned to the public-house, where the gentlemen waited for him (for they were the principal occasion of this last adventure); and being informed how he had fared, diverted themselves exceedingly with the stratagem; and shortly after, meeting with Squire Rhodes, they discovered the various impositions that had been practised upon him, and very heartily bantered him thereupon.

Some time after this, Mr. Carew, exercising his profession at Modbury (where squire Rhodes's father lived), among other houses made his application to Legassick's, where he by chance was visiting. Mr. Carew knocked at the kitchen door, which being opened, he saw his old friend the squire, who was then alone, and in a careless manner swinging his cane about. As soon as he began to tell his lamentable tale, Mr. Rhodes said, "I was three times in one day imposed on by that rogue, Bampfylde Moore Carew, to whose gang you may very likely belong; furthermore, I do not live here, but am a stranger." Mean time in comes Mr. Legassick, with a bottle of wine in his hand, giving Mr. Carew a private wink, to let him understand that he knew him, and then very gravely inquired into the circumstances of his misfortune, as also of the affairs and inhabitants of Dartmouth, from whence he pretended to have sailed several times; of all which he gave a full and particular account; upon which Mr. Legassick gave him five shillings, 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 him, even in Mr. Carew's presence; when Mr. Rhodes, finding himself a fourth time imposed upon by the same person, with a great deal of good nature made himself very merry therewith.

Mr. Carew being now advanced in years, and his strength beginning to fail, he was seized with a violent fever, which confined him to his bed for several weeks; on recovering he reflected how idly he had spent his life, and came to the resolution of resigning the Egyptian sceptre. The assembly finding him determined, reluctantly complied, and he departed amidst the applause, as well as the regrets of his subjects, who despaired of ever again having such a king.

Our hero returned home to the place of his nativity, but finding the air of the town not rightly to agree with him, and the death of some of his relations rendering his circumstances quite easy, he retired to the west country, where he purchased a neat cottage, which he embellished in a handsome style, and lived in a manner becoming a good old English gentleman, respected by his neighbours, and beloved by the poor, to whom his doors were ever open. Here he died, full of years and honours, regretted by all.

Having left his daughter a handsome fortune, she was married to a neighbouring gentleman of good family, by whom she had a numerous family of promising children.

We shall now conclude our true history, by observing, that we consider Mr. Carew to have as good a claim to fame and immortality as any of the heroes of the present age. We acknowledge he had his faults, but every body knows a perfect character is quite out of fashion, and that the authors of the present age hold it as an absurdity to draw even a fictitious hero without an abundance of faults.

A DICTIONARY OF THE CANT LANGUAGE.

As the Language of the Community of Gipseys is very expressive, and different from all others, we think we shall gratify the curious by publishing a specimen of it.

* * * * *

_ABRAM_, naked, without clothes, or scarce enough to cover the nakedness.

_Ambi-dexter_, one that goes snacks in gaming with both parties; also a lawyer that takes fees of a plaintiff and defendant at once.

_Alel-Wackets_, blows given on the palm of the hand with a twisted handkerchief, instead of a ferula; a jocular punishment among seamen, who sometimes play at cards for wackets, the loser suffering as many strokes as he has lost games.

_Abram Cove_, among thieves signifies a naked or poor man; also a lusty strong rogue.

_Adam_, _Tiler_, a pickpocket's associate, who receives the stolen goods.

_Air_ and _Exercise_. He has had air and exercise, i.e., has been whipped at the cart's tail; or, as it is generally expressed, at the cart's arse.

_Alls_, the Five Alls is a country sign, representing five human figures, each having a motto under him. The first is a king in his regalia; his motto, I govern all: the second a bishop in his pontificals; motto, I pray for all: third, a lawyer in his gown; motto, I plead for all: fourth, a soldier in his regimentals, fully accoutred; with the motto, I fight for all: and the fifth, a poor countryman with his scythe and 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 gipseys.

_Arch Doxy_, signifies the same in rank among the female canters or gipseys.

_Ard_, hot.

_Autumn Mort_, a married woman; also a female beggar with several children, hired to excite charity.

_Autumn_, a church; also married.

_Autumn bawler_, a preacher.

_Autumn cacklers_ or _prick-ears_, dissenters of whatever denomination.

_Autumn divers_, church pickpockets; but often used for churchwardens, overseers of the poor, sidesmen, and others, who manage the poor's money.

_Autumn jet_, a parson.

_Babes in the Wood_, criminals in the stocks.

_Back'd_, dead.

_Badge Coves_, parish pensioners.

_Balsam_, money.

_Bam_, a jocular imposition, the same as humbug.

_Bandog_, a bailiff, or his followers; a sergeant, or his yeomen; also a fierce mastiff.

_Bandero_, a widow's mourning peak; also a musical instrument.

_Baptised_, rum, brandy, or any other spirits that have been lowered with water.

_Barker_, a salesman's servant that walks before the shop, and cries, coats, gowns, &c., what d'ye buy?

_Barking irons_, pistols, from their explosion resembling the barking of a dog.

_Barnacles_, a good job, or a snack easily got; also, the irons worn by felons in gaols.

_Barrel Fever_, he died of the barrel fever; he killed himself by drinking.

_Battner_, an ox.

_Bawbee_, a halfpenny.

_Baudrons_, a cat.

_Beak_, a justice of peace, or magistrate.

_Beard splitter_, a whoremaster, or a beadle.

_Beater cases_, boots.

_Bellows_, the lungs.

_Belly cheat_, an apron.

_Bill of sale_, a widow's weeds.

_Bing_, to go, bing avast; get you gone. Binged avast in a darkmans; stole away in the night. Bing we to Rumvilck; shall we go to London.

_Bingo_, brandy, or other spirituous liquor.

_Bingo boy_, a dram drinker.

_Bingo mort_, a female dram drinker.

_Bingowaste_, get you hence.

_Black fly_, the greatest drawback on the farmer is the black fly, i.e. the parson.

_Bleating rig_, sheep-stealing.

_Blind harpers_, beggars counterfeiting blindness, playing on fiddles, &c.

_Black box_, a lawyer.

_Black Indies_, Newcastle, from whence the coals are brought.

_Black spy_, the devil.

_Blind cheek_, the breech.

_Blowen_, a whore.

_Bluffer_, an innkeeper, or victualler.

_Boarding school_, Bridewell, Newgate, or any other prison, or house of correction.

_Bob_, a shoplifter's assistant, or one that receives and carries off stolen goods.

_Bob ken_, or _a Brownmanken_, a well furnished house.

_Bone_, to apprehend, seize, or arrest.

_Bone box_, the mouth.

_Bone Darkmans_, a good night.

_Bone setter_, a hard-trotting horse.

_Booby hutch_, a one-horse chaise, noddy, buggy, or leathern bottle.

_Borde_, a shilling.

_Bouncing cheat_, a bottle.

_Bracket face_, ugly, ill-favoured.

_Brown George_, an ammunition loaf.

_Buck's face_, a cuckold.

_Bufe_, a dog.

_Butt's eye_, a crown, or five shilling piece.

_Bung_, a purse, pocket, or fob.

_Bur_, a hanger-on, a dependant.

_Bum bailiff_, a sheriff's officer who arrests debtors; so called perhaps from following his prey, and being at their bums, or as the vulgar phrase is, hard at their a---s. Blackstone says it is a corruption of bound bailiff, from their being obliged to give bond for their good behaviour.

_Bum brusher_, a schoolmaster.

_Bus-napper_, a constable.

_Bus-napper's kenchin_, a watchman.

_Bye-blow_, a bastard.

_Calle_, a cloak or gown.

_Cank_, dumb.

_Canniken_, the plague.

_Cap_, to swear.

_Captain Queernabs_, a fellow in poor clothes.

_Caravan_, a good round sum of money about a man.

_Case_, a house, shop, or warehouse.

_Cassun_, cheese.

_Caster_, a cloak.

_Calfskin fiddle_, a drum. To smack calfskin; to kiss the book in taking the oath. It is held by the St. Giles's casuists, that by kissing one's own thumb instead of smacking calfskin, the guilt of taking a false oath is avoided.

_Canticle_, a parish clerk.

_Canting_, preaching with a whining affected tone, perhaps a corruption 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.

_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_, burnt in the hand. They have palmed the character upon him, they have burned him in the hand.

_Charm_, a picklock.

_Chates_, the gallows.

_Chats_, lice.

_Chanter culls_, grub-street writers, who compose songs and carrols for ballad singers.

_Cherubims_, peevish children, because cherubim and seraphim continually do cry.

_Cheat-the-devil_, a dicky.

_Chife_, a knife, file, or saw.

_Chosen Pells_, highwaymen who rob in pairs, in the streets and squares of London; to prevent being followed by the sound of their horses' shoes on the stones, they shoe them with leather.

_Chuck farthing_, a parish clerk.

_Clank napper_, a silver tankard.

_Clickman Toad_, a watch; also, an appellation for a west-countryman, said to have arisen from the following--a westcountryman, who had never seen a watch, found one on a heath near Pool, which, by the motion of the hand, and the noise of the wheels, he concluded to be a living creature of the toad kind; and, from its clicking, he named it a clickman toad.

_Clowes_, rogues.

_Cloy_, thief, robber, &c.

_Cloyes_, thieves, robbers, &c.

_Cly_, money; also, a pocket. He has filed a cly; he has picked a pocket.

_Cold burning_, a punishment inflicted by private soldiers, on their comrades, for any trifling offences of their mess laws; it is administered in the following manner--the prisoner is set against the wall, with the arm which is to be burned tied as high above his head as possible; the executioner then ascends a stool, and having a bottle of cold water, pours it slowly down the sleeve of the delinquent, patting him, and leading the water gently down his body, till it runs out at the bottom of his trowsers--this is repeated to the other arm, if he is sentenced to be burned in both.

_Cloak_, a silver tankard.

_Coach wheel_, or _a fore coach wheel_, half-a-crown; _a hind coach wheel_, a crown.

_Cobblecotter_, a turnkey.

_Collar day_, execution day.

_Colquarron_, a man's neck.

_Comefa_, a shirt, or shift.

_Commission_, a shirt.

_Comfortable impudence_, a wife.

_Cooler_, a woman.

_Costard_, the head.

_Court card_, a gay fluttering coxcomb.

_Cow's baby_, a calf.

_Cow-handed_, awkward, not dextrous.

_Crab shells_, shoes.

_Cramp word_, sentence of death passed on a criminal by a judge:--he has just undergone the cramp word; sentence has just been passed upon him.

_Crew_, a knot or gang: the canting crew are thus divided into twenty-three orders:--

MEN.

1. Rufflers.

2. Upright Men.

3. Hookers, or Anglers.

4. Rogues.

5. Wild Rogues.

6. Priggers, or Prancers.

7. Pailliards.

8. Fraters.

9. Jarkmen, or Patricoes.

10. Fresh Water Mariner's or Whip Jackets.

11. Drummerers.

12. Drunken Tinkers.

13. Swaddlers, or Pedlars.

14. Abrams.

WOMEN.

1. Demanders for Glimmer or Fire.

2. Bawdy Baskets.

3. Morts.

4. Autumn Morts.

5. Walking Morts.

6. Doxies.

7. Delles.

8. Kinchin Morts.

9. Kinchin Coves.

_Crookmans_, hedges.

_Coxy_, a stupid fellow.

_Crook_, sixpence.

_Croker_, a groat, or fourpence.

_Croppen_, the tail of any thing.

_Cucumbers_, tailors.

_Cuffin cove_, a drunken fellow.

_Cull_, a fellow.

_Cut his stick_, run away.

_Culp_, a kick, or blow.

_Cup hot_, drunk.

_Cursitors_, pettyfogging attornies.

_Cussin_, a man.

_Darby_, ready money.

_Dace_, twopence;--tip me a dace; lend me twopence.

_Dag_, a gun.