‘Having been bred to an employment for which he was very ill-fitted,
both from his physical and mental powers and propensities, the habit
that became most rooted in, and most fatal to my father, was a
fickleness of disposition, a thorough persuasion, after he had tried one
means of providing for himself and family for a certain time, that he
had discovered another far more profitable and secure. Steadiness of
pursuit was a virtue at which he could never arrive: and I believe few
men in the kingdom had in the course of their lives been the hucksters
of so many small wares; or more enterprising dealers in articles of a
halfpenny value.
‘Different circumstances have fixed in my mind the recollection of many
of the towns to which we went, and a variety of the articles of my
father’s traffic, but in all probability not a tenth part of either. I
at this moment remember in particular, a market-day at Macclesfield in
Cheshire; not so much from what we sold, though I believe it was some
sort of wooden-ware, of which trenchers and spoons were in those days
staple articles, as from a person that caught my attention there. This
was a most robust and boisterous woman, more than middle-aged, with a
very visible beard, and a deep base voice. I was never weary of
listening to, looking at her, and watching all she said or did. I could
scarcely think it possible there was such a woman.
‘I should mention, that to carry on these itinerant trades, my father
had begun with purchasing an ass, and bought more as he could; now and
then increasing his store by the addition of a ragged poney, or a
worn-out, weather-beaten Rozinante. In autumn he turned his attention to
fruit, and conveyed apples and pears in hampers from villages to
market-towns; among the latter of which I remember, were Tamworth,
Newark-upon-Trent, and Hinckley. The bad nourishment I met with, the
cold and wretched manner in which I was clothed, and the excessive
weariness I endured in following these animals day after day, and being
obliged to drive creatures perhaps still more weary than myself, were
miseries much too great, and loaded my little heart with sorrows far too
pungent ever to be forgotten. Bye roads and high roads were alike to be
traversed, but the former far the oftenest, for they were then almost
innumerable, and the state of them in winter would scarcely at present
be believed.—Speaking of scantiness of diet, an incident happened to me
which shews the great power of taste, or rather of imagination, over the
appetite, and which ought to be treasured in the memory of those who
endeavour to force the appetites of children. I was travelling after my
father in Staffordshire near Wosely bridge, where a country-gentleman
had a seat. I went into the house, whether alone or for what purpose I
totally forget: but I well remember the fragrant steams of the kitchen,
and the longing wishes they excited. As I was going away, a good-natured
servant said, “Perhaps you are hungry, little boy?” To which, bashfully
hanging my head, I answered, “Yes.” “Well, then, stop a minute, I’ll
give you something very nice”: and accordingly, a large bason of rich
pease-soup was brought me, and a spoon. I had never eaten, nor perhaps
heard of such a thing before: but the moment I smelt it, and applied it
to my palate, I conceived such an excessive dislike to it, that though I
felt ashamed, and made every effort I could, I found it impossible to
swallow a spoonful. Some servants were by my side, and one of them
asked, “What! don’t you like it? Can’t you eat it?” To which, perfectly
abashed, and again hanging my head, I replied, “No.” “Ha!” said one of
them, “you are a dainty chap, however, I wonder who keeps you, or what
it is you do like!” I made no reply, but, hungry as I was, and
wretchedly disappointed, hurried away as fast as I could, to overtake my
father. I should remark, that since I have grown up, pease-soup has
always been a favourite dish with me: perhaps, accustomed as I had been
from childhood to the plainest food, and empty as my stomach then was,
this high-flavoured composition would unavoidably excite disgust.
‘My father became by turns, a collector and vender of rags, a
hardwareman, a dealer in buckles, buttons, and pewter-spoons; in short,
a trafficker in whatever could bring gain. But there was one thing which
fixed his attention longer than any other, and which therefore, I
suppose he found the most lucrative; which was, to fetch pottery from
the neighbourhood of Stone, in Staffordshire, and to hawk it through all
the North of England. Of all other travelling, this was the most
continual, the most severe, and the most intolerable. Derbyshire,
Cheshire, Leicestershire, Nottinghamshire, Warwickshire, the towns and
cities of Birmingham, Walsall, Wolverhampton, Coventry, Derby,
Burton-upon-Trent, Litchfield, Tamworth, Atherstone, Nuneaton,
Lutterworth, Ashby-de-la-Zouch, nay, as far up as Warwick,
Stratford-upon-Avon, Daventry, Northampton, Newport-Pagnell, Banbury, (I
well remember its delicious cakes); and on the east, Stamford in
Lincolnshire, Grantham, and in short every place within possible reach,
or where pottery might be sold, received visits from my father, the
asses, and poor me.
‘What became of my mother during these excursions, I do not accurately
recollect, except that she was with us occasionally, as at Macclesfield
for instance, where the woman with the beard and base voice so fixed my
attention. She was also with us at Litchfield and Coventry. Most
probably she was in general left at home, with her child or children.
‘By home, I mean an old house half in ruins, about two miles on the
north-east side of Rugeley, with a kitchen-garden, paddock, and croft,
which afforded some scanty supplies to man and beast, when my father
found it convenient, or thought proper to rest a little from his
labours; but to me this house often became a den of misery. I was not
yet nine years old, but I had a variety of employments. First, I was the
messenger of the family to Rugeley, whither I took money and brought
back delicious white bread, for which it was then famous, with such
minor articles as were wanted. But when trusted by myself, I could not
help loitering on the road, diverting myself with whatever caught my
attention, and examining every new object with an idle, boyish
curiosity, from which I derived little profit. So that a journey, which
ought to have been performed in less than two hours, generally took me
more than half a day. I knew the consequences, and had a kind of horror
of them, yet could not resist, could not prevail upon myself to go
strait forward; such was the united force of habit and curiosity.
‘My father was alike extreme in his anger, and in his compassion. He
used to beat me, pull my hair up by the roots, and drag me by the ears
along the ground, till they ran with blood. Indeed my repeated faults
were so unpardonable, that he could scarcely blame himself. Yet probably
within an hour after he had exercised his severity upon me, he would
break out into passionate exclamations of fondness, alarming himself
lest he should some time or other do me a serious mischief, and
declaring that rather than so, he would a thousand times prefer instant
death.
‘Chastisements like these were grievous, but they were by no means the
whole of what I had to encounter. I know not how it happened, but at
this early age I was entrusted with business rather like an adult than a
child.
‘Towards Litchfield, on the right, lay Cannock heath and town; and
adjoining to this heath, on the left, there were coal-pits situated in a
remarkably heavy clay country: (I speak from childish recollection, and
may therefore expect to be pardoned, should I in description commit any
local errors; as I have never been at Cannock, the coal-pits, or the
heath, since that period). Desirous of employing his asses, yet averse
to go himself (I know not for what reason) my father frequently sent me
to these coal-pits to get a single ass loaded, and to drive him over the
heath to Rugeley, there to find a customer for my coals. The article was
so cheap, and so near, that the profits could be but very small, yet
they were something. Had the weather been fine when I was sent on these
errands, the task would not have been so difficult, nor the wonder so
great; but at the time I was unfortunately sent there, I have a perfect
recollection of deep ruts, of cattle, both asses and horses, unable to
drag their legs through the clay, and of carts and waggons that were set
fast in it. I do not mean that these accidents happened every day, but
they were common to the place: and to poor helpless me, with a creature
that could scarcely stand under its burthen, they were not less frequent
than to others. When any body that could assist me happened to be near,
I thought myself in luck; but if I was obliged to run from coal-pit to
coal-pit, to request the man who turned the wheel to come and help me,
the chance of compliance was little. I often got nothing but a surly
curse and a denial; so till some unlooked-for accident brought me
relief, there my loaded ass, sometimes heaving a groan at what he
suffered, was obliged to stay.
‘The most remarkable instance of this kind of distress may perhaps
deserve recounting. One day, my ass had passed safely through the clay
ruts and deep roads, and under my guidance had begun to ascend a hill we
had to cross on Cannock heath on our way to Rugeley. The wind was very
high; though while we were on low ground, I had never suspected its real
force. But my apprehensions began to increase with our ascent, and when
on the summit of the hill, nearly opposite to two clumps of trees, which
are pictured to my imagination as they stood there at that time, it blew
gust after gust, too powerful for the loaded animal to resist, and down
it came. Through life I have always had a strong sense of the grief and
utter despair I then felt. But what a little surprises me is, that I
have no recollection whatever of the means by which I found relief, but
rather of the naked and desolate place in which I was, and my inability
to help myself. Could I have unloaded the ass, it would not have been
much matter; but the coals were brought from the pits in such masses,
that three of them were generally an ass-load; any one of which was
usually beyond my strength. I have no doubt, however, but I got them by
some means or other to Rugeley, and brought the money for them safe to
my father, whom I could not help secretly accusing of insensibility,
though that was the very reverse of his character.
‘The coal-pits were situated on the extremity of an old forest,
inhabited by large quantities of red deer. At these I always stopped to
look: but what surprised and delighted me most was the noble stag; for
to him the deer appeared insignificant. Him I often saw bounding along,
eying objects without fear, and making prodigious leaps over obstacles
that opposed his passage. In this free state, indeed, he cannot but
excite our admiration.
‘One little anecdote I must not omit. The reader will naturally suppose
that from the time I began to travel the country with my father and
mother, I had little leisure or opportunity to acquire any knowledge by
reading. I was too much pressed by fatigue, hunger, cold, and nakedness.
Still however I cannot but suppose, as well from my own propensity to
obey the will of God, as from my father’s wish to encourage my
inclinations of this kind, that I continued to repeat my prayers and
catechism morning and evening, and on Sundays to read the prayer-book
and bible. At any rate, I had not forgot to read; for while we were at
the house near Rugeley, by some means or other, the song of Chevy Chace
came into my possession, which I read over with great delight at our
fire-side. My father, who knew that my memory was tolerably retentive,
and saw the great number of stanzas the ballad contained, said to me,
“Well, Tom, can you get that song by heart?” To this question I very
readily answered, “yes.” “In how long a time?”—“Why, you know, father, I
have got such work for to-morrow, and what work you will set me for the
following days, I can’t tell; however, I can get it in three days.”
“What, perfectly?” “Yes.” “Well, if you do that, I’ll give you a
halfpenny.” Rejoiced at my father’s generosity, “Oh then, never fear,”
said I. I scarcely need add, that my task was easily accomplished, and
that I then had the valuable sum of a halfpenny at my own disposal.