that he should count three to his adversary's one; and he bribed the
jacks to give him hints as to the direction he was to throw, by the
inflexion of their voices, lowering their tones in speaking to one
another if he flung too much to the right, raising them if he threw too
wide on the left.
But what is far more singular is, that he was able to distinguish cards
by their feel, and that by simply passing his fingers over their
surface. By this means he was able to play whist and other games, and
beat those opposed to him; by this means realising a little money.
These achievements were far from exhausting his ambition. He aspired to
the acquaintance of jockeys, and frequented the York races, where he
betted, and was able to make books with men of rank and position, who
took an interest in Jack on account of his affliction and the energy of
his character.
He commonly rode to the race-ground amongst the crowd, and kept in
memory both the winning and losing horses.
Being much in the habit of visiting York in the winter time, a whim
would often take him to call for his horse at bed-time, and set out for
Knaresborough, regardless of the badness of the roads and weather, and
of all remonstrance from his friends.
About the year 1738, Metcalf having increased his stud, and being aware
of the docility of that noble animal the horse, he so tutored his own
that whenever he called them by their respective names they would
immediately answer him by neighing. This was chiefly accomplished by
some discipline at the time of feeding. He could, however, without the
help of those responses, select his own horse out of any number.
Having matched one of his horses to run three miles for a wager of some
note, and the parties agreeing to ride each his own, they set up posts
at certain distances in the forest, marking a course of one mile;
having, of course, three miles to go. Great odds were laid against
Metcalf, upon the supposition of his inability to keep the course. But
Blind Jack was quite equal to the occasion. He procured four
dinner-bells, and placed a bell-man at each post. Each man rang in turn,
and Metcalf was thus able to run from one post to the next, and know
where to turn his horse. By this means he was able to win the race.
A gentleman who was present, named Skelton, then came up, and proposed
to Metcalf a small wager, that he could not gallop a horse of his 50
yards, and stop him within 200. This horse was notorious as a runaway,
and had baffled the efforts of the best and strongest riders to hold
him. Metcalf agreed to the wager on condition that he might choose his
ground; but Skelton bargained that there should be neither hedge nor
wall on the course, lest his horse should be injured. Metcalf agreed;
the stakes were deposited; and knowing that there was a large bog near
the old Spa at Harrogate, he mounted at about a distance of 150 yards
from it. Having observed the wind, and placed a person who was to sing a
song to guide him by the sound, he set off at a full gallop towards the
bog, and soon fixed the horse saddle-deep in the mire. He then
floundered through the dirt as well as he was able, till he gained a
firm footing, when he demanded his wager, which was allotted him by
general suffrage. It was with the greatest difficulty, however, that the
horse could be extricated. That Metcalf was so well acquainted with the
spot was owing to his having about three weeks before relieved a
stranger who had got fast in it in the night, and whose cries attracted
him.
It was now no unusual thing with him to buy horses with a view to
selling them. Happening to meet with a man who had been huntsman to Sir
John Kaye, and who had a horse to sell, Metcalf inquired the price of
the horse, and asked to try it. Having trotted the horse a mile or two,
he returned, and told the owner that the eyes of his nag would soon
fail. The man, however, stood firm to his demand of 25 guineas for the
horse, alleging that he was beautifully moulded, only six years old, and
his action good. Metcalf then followed the man into the stable, and
desired him to lay his hand upon the eyes of the horse, and feel their
unusual heat; asking, at the same time, how he could, in conscience,
demand so great a price for a horse that was going blind. The treaty
ended with Metcalf purchasing the horse, bridle, and saddle for £14.
A few days after, as he was riding on his new purchase, he ran against a
sign-post upon the common, near a toyshop, and nearly threw it down. Not
discouraged by this, he set off for Ripon to play at an assembly; and
passing by a place at Harrogate called the World's-End, he overtook a
man going the Ripon road: with him Metcalf laid a wager of
sixpenny-worth of liquor that he would get first to an ale-house at some
distance. The ground being rough, Metcalf's horse soon fell, and lay for
a while on the thigh of his master, when, making an effort to rise, he
cut Metcalfs face with one of his fore-shoes. The Rev. Mr. Richardson,
coming up at this moment and expressing his concern for the accident,
Metcalf told him that nothing had hurt him but the cowardice of his
horse, who had "struck him whilst he was down." His instrument, however,
suffered so materially, that he was obliged to borrow one to perform on
for the night at Ripon, to which place he got without further accident.
The assembly over, he set off to return to Harrogate, and arrived there
about three in the morning.
He now thought it was time to dispose of his fine horse, whose eyes
began to discharge much. After applying the usual remedies of alum blown
into the eyes, rowelling in different parts, &c., he found the beast in
marketable condition; and knowing that there would soon be a great show
of horses without Micklegate Bar at York, he resolved to take the chance
of that mart; and setting out the night before put up at the Swan, in
Micklegate. The next morning, when the show began, Metcalf's nag
attracted the notice of one Carter, a very extensive dealer, who, asking
the price, was told twenty-two guineas. Carter then inquired if he was
sound, and received for answer, "I have never known him LAME; but I will
trot him on this pavement, and if there be any ailment of that sort it
will soon appear with my weight." The dealer bade him sixteen guineas,
and a little after seventeen; which Metcalf, for well-known reasons, was
glad to receive.
In the year 1738 Metcalf attained the age of twenty-one years and the
height of six feet one inch and a half, and was remarkably robust
withal.
About this time Dr. Chambers of Ripon had a well-made horse with which
he used to hunt, but finding that he had become a great stumbler, he
exchanged him with a dealer, who took him to Harrogate, and meeting with
Metcalf told him he had an excellent hunter to sell at a low price.
Metcalf desired to try how the horse leaped, and the owner agreeing, he
mounted him, and found that he could, when saddled, leap over any wall
or fence the height of himself. The bargain was soon struck, and this
happening at the Queen's Head Hotel, several gentlemen who were
witnesses of the horse's performance invited Metcalf to accompany them
two days after to Belmond Wood, where a pack of hounds were to throw
off. These hounds were the joint property of Francis Trappes, Esq., and
his brother, of Nidd, near Ripley. A pack superior to this was not to be
found in the kingdom.
The wished-for day arriving, Metcalf attended the gentlemen, and the
hounds were not long in finding. The fox took away to Plumpton Rocks,
but finding all secure there, he made for Stockeld Wood, and found
matters in the same state as at Plumpton--he had then run about six
miles: he came back and crossed the river Nidd near the old abbey, and
went on the east side of Knaresborough to a place called Coney-Garths
(where there were earths), near Scriven. Metcalf's horse carried him
nobly, pulling hard, and he required proportionate resistance. The wind
being high, Metcalf lost his hat, but would not stop to recover it; and
coming to Thistle Hill, near Knaresborough, he resolved to cross the
river at the Abbey Mill, having often before gone on foot over the
dam-stones. When he got to the dam he attended to the noise of the fall
as a guide, and ranging his horse in a line with the stories dashed
forward for some part of the way; but the stones being slippery with a
kind of moss, the horse stumbled, but recovered this and a second
blunder; the third time, however, floundering completely, away went
horse and rider into the dam. Metcalf had presence of mind to disengage
his feet from the stirrups during the descent, but both the horse and
himself were immersed over head in water. He then quitted his seat and
made for the opposite side, the horse following him. Having secured his
nag, he laid himself down on his back and held up his heels to let the
water run out of his boots, which done, he quickly remounted and went up
a narrow lane which leads to the road betwixt Knaresborough and
Wetherby; then through some lanes on the north-east side of
Knaresborough, and crossing the Borough Bridge Road, he got to the
Coney-Garths, where he found that the whipper-in only had arrived before
him.
Here the fox had earthed, as was expected; and the other horsemen (who
had gone over the Low Bridge and through the town) after some time came
up. They were much surprised at finding Metcalf there, and attributed
the soaked condition of himself and horse to profuse sweating; nor were
they undeceived till they reached Scriven.
Soon after this, Blind Jack was at Scarborough. As he was walking one
day on the sands with a friend, he resolved to take a swim in the sea,
his companion agreeing to shout out when he should think he had gone far
enough outward; but the other not making a sufficient allowance for the
noise of the sea, suffered him to go out of hearing before he shouted,
and Metcalf continued swimming until he got out of sight of his friend,
who now expected to see him no more. At length Metcalf began to think he
must have got out of hearing of his friend, and becoming rather tired he
turned on his back to rest himself, his ears being covered with water;
but after he had sufficiently rested he turned himself again, and
removing the hair of his head from his ears, began to listen, when he
thought he heard the breakers beating against the pier which defends the
Spa; finding by the noise that he was at a great distance, he increased
his efforts, and providentially taking a right direction, he landed in
safety, to the immense relief of his friend.
Having an aunt at Whitby, near the Alum Works, he went there, left his
horse, and got on board an alum ship bound for London. He arrived at the
metropolis, stayed there only a few weeks, played on the violin, and did
very well; but meeting so many acquaintances, did not think himself
safe. After some time, meeting with a vessel, he returned back again to
Whitby; and having a numerous acquaintance at Newcastle, formed at
Harrogate, he went thither, and was kindly received by many persons.
Amongst the rest was one Councillor Grey, who invited Metcalf to dine
with him every day during the time he should stay, which was about a
month. One day he said to Metcalf, "You and I are near a size," and
brought down a suit of clothes, saying, "I think these will fit you, and
are at your service if you please to accept them; they have scarcely
been worn; go into the next room and try them on." Metcalf then left
Newcastle and went to Sunderland, where he stayed a short time among the
sailors; then proceeded to Whitby to his aunt's, with whom he had left
his horse, as she was in tolerable circumstances; after that he
determined to go to Knaresborough, and set off in the forenoon,
intending to call at Mr. Varley's, as he had been there for six months
shortly before. He had company over the moor to Pickering, as he had
never been that road. At Pickering his company left him.
He then went to Malton, which was six miles, though he had never been
that road before, but had been at Malton; he got safe there, and
continued along the York road. A little from Malton his horse began to
tire at a place called Crombeck, where there is a ford dangerous in
times of flood. It happened to be a very rainy time, and his horse being
weak, he took hold of the bridle-rein to lead him through, not being
afraid of the water himself, but fearful of drowning his horse. Having
got safe through, he pursued his journey, but his horse being weak, he
was under the necessity of leading him part of the road, and walking
sometimes up to the boot-tops in dirt.
He soon came to a common called Stockton Moor, about four or five miles
from York, where was neither turnpike nor paved causeway at that time,
and he had got out of the track and was in great difficulty; but
fortunately he heard a cock crow in Stockton, and by turning in the
direction whence he heard the call of chanticleer, he got into Stockton.
From this place there was a paved causeway all the way to York, upon
which he went, now feeling himself safe. He then came down Goodram Gate,
crossed Peter Gate, down the Shambles, and through Pavement, over Ouse
Bridge, turned into Skelder Gate, and through the Postern, it being in
the dead of night, but he wanted no guide, as he knew the places so
well; then coming to Middlethorpe, the gates were fast: they were made
of wood, with iron spikes at the top, which made it difficult to climb
over; but necessity being the mother of invention, he called forth her
aid. Metcalf took the bridle from off his horse's head, doubled the
rein, and throwing it over one of the spikes of the gate, by that means
and the help of a corner of the wall that joined the gate, he got up and
climbed over; but when he was at the top his situation was perilous, for
if his foot had slipped he would have fallen on the spikes and been
impaled. He then opened the gates, and led his horse through, and
greatly surprised some women by his appearance, who happened to be up
washing. When daylight appeared, the family received him very kindly. He
stayed about three weeks, and then returned to Knaresborough, where he
met with a north countryman who played on the bagpipes and frequented
the houses of many gentlemen in town. He had been in London several
times, and he advised Metcalf to take a trip with him, which he did.
By this man Metcalf found out several gentlefolks who were in the habit
of visiting Harrogate during the season, and amongst others Colonel
Liddell, who resided in King Street, Covent Garden, and who gave him a
general invitation to his house. The colonel was member of Parliament
for Berwick-upon-Tweed, and lived at Ravensworth Castle, near
Newcastle-upon-Tyne; and on his return from London to the North, which
generally took place in the month of May, he was accustomed to spend
three weeks at Harrogate.
When the winter was over, Metcalf thought he must take a walk out of
London. Accordingly he set out through Kensington, Hammersmith,
Colnbrook, Maidenhead, and Reading, in Berkshire; and returned by
Windsor and Hampton Court to London in the beginning of May. In his
absence, Colonel Liddell had sent to his lodgings to let him know that
he was going to Harrogate, and that if agreeable to him he might go down
either behind his coach or on the top. Metcalf on his return waited upon
the colonel and thanked him, but declined his kind offer, observing that
he could with great ease walk as far in a day as he would choose to
travel in his coach. The next day at noon the colonel and his suite,
consisting of sixteen servants on horseback, set off, Metcalf starting
about an hour before them. They were to go by the way of Bugden, and he
proceeded as far as Barnet. A little way from Barnet the Bugden and St.
Alban's roads part, and he had taken the latter; however, he arrived at
Welling, the place where they were to sleep, a little before the
colonel, who was surprised at his performance. Metcalf set off again
next morning before his friends, and coming to Biggleswade, found the
road was crossed with water, there being no bridge at that time. He made
a circuitous cast, but found no other way except a footpath, which he
was doubtful whether to trust. A person coming up, asked, "What road are
you for?" He answered, "For Bugden." "You have had some liquor this
morning, I suppose?" said the stranger. "Yes," replied Metcalf, although
he had tasted none that day. The stranger then bid him follow, and he
would direct him into the highway. Soon after, they came to some sluices
with planks laid across, and Metcalf followed by the sound of his
guide's feet; then to a gate on one side of the turnpike, which being
locked he was told to climb over. Metcalf was struck with the kind
attention of his conductor, and taking twopence from his pocket, said,
"Here, good fellow, take that, and get thee a pint of beer;" but the
other declined it, saying he was welcome. Metcalf, however, pressing the
reward upon him, was asked, "Can you see very well?" "Not remarkably
well," he replied. "My friend," said the stranger, "I do not mean to
tithe thee--I am rector of this parish; and so God bless you, and I
wish you a good journey." Metcalf set forward with the parson's
benediction, and stopped every night with the colonel. On coming to
Wetherby, he arrived at the inn before him, as usual, and told the
landlord of his approach, who asked him by what means he had become
acquainted with that, and was informed by him how he had preceded the
colonel the whole week, this being Saturday, and they had left town on
Monday noon. The colonel arriving, ordered Metcalf into his room, and
proposed halting till Monday, but Metcalf replied, "With your leave,
sir, I shall go to Harrogate to-night, and meet you there on Monday." So
he set off for Knaresborough that night, and met the colonel at
Harrogate on Monday, as he had said.
Metcalf became now in great request as a performer at Ripon assembly,
which was resorted to by many families of distinction, such as Sir
Walter Blacket of Newby; Sir John Wray, Sir R. Graham, Squire Rhodes,
Squire Aislaby of Studley, and many others. When he played alone, it was
usual with him after the assembly to set off for Harrogate or
Knaresborough; but when he had an assistant he remained all night at
Ripon to keep him company, his partner being afraid to ride in the dark.
Finding himself worth £15 (a larger sum than he ever had before), and a
main of cocks having been made in the neighbourhood, he became a party,
and lost two-thirds of his whole fortune. The remaining £5 he laid out
on a horse which was to run at York a few days later; and had the good
fortune to win the last wager.
Metcalf still followed cock-fighting, cards, and racing, but continued
to play at the assemblies; but his profession interfered with his
sports, and he cast about in his mind how to obtain an independence. Now
it fell out that about this time a Miss Benson, daughter of the host of
the Royal Oak, was about to be married to a young man whom Metcalf was
convinced she did not like. It was a match made up by the parents, and
there was no affection in it--at least on her side. Blind Jack had some
reason to think that the fair lady was not insensible to him, and he
hastened to Harrogate, and hung about the Royal Oak till he had an
opportunity of speaking to the damsel, who was to be married the very
next day. Metcalf used his most urgent persuasion with the girl to elope
with him that night, and obtained from her a tardy consent. It was
arranged that she should put a lighted candle in the window when ready
to run away, and Metcalf engaged a friend to look out for the candle for
him.
This having been settled, the lady went into the house, and in a short
time was followed by Metcalf, who was warmly received by the supposed
bridegroom and company.
The tankard went briskly round with "Success to the intended couple!" in
which toast, it may be readily believed, Metcalf joined most cordially.
Having stayed till it was near dark, he thought it time for putting
business into proper train. Going then to the public-house known by the
name of the World's End, he inquired for the hostler, whom he knew to be
a steady fellow; and after obtaining from this man a promise either to
serve him in an affair of moment in which he was engaged, or keep the
secret, he related the particulars of his assignation and the intended
elopement, to forward which he desired him to let him have his master's
mare, which he knew would carry two. This agreed on, he requested the
further service of meeting him at Ross's Library at ten o'clock. A
whistle was to be given by the first who got there, as a signal. They
met pretty punctually, and Metcalf asked if he saw a star, meaning the
lighted candle. After half-an-hour's delay the signal-light appeared.
They then approached the house, and left the horses at a little
distance, not choosing to venture into the court-yard, which was paved.
On the door being opened by the lady, he asked her if she was ready, and
she replied in the affirmative. He advised her, however, to pack up a
dress or two, as she probably might not see her mother again for some
time. She had about twenty gowns at that time, and a new pillion and
cloth. Metcalf asked her for it. "Oh, dear," said she, "it is in the
other house; but we must have it." She then went to the window and
called up her sister, who let her in. The pillion and cloth were in the
room where the intended bridegroom slept, and on his seeing her enter,
she said, "I will take this and brush it, that it may be ready in the
morning."--"That's well thought on, my dear," said he. She then went
down, and all three hastened to the horses. Metcalf mounted her behind
his friend, then got upon his own horse, and away they went. At that
time it was not a matter of so much difficulty to get married as it is
at present, and they had only the trouble of riding twelve miles, and a
fee to pay, without any calling of banns requiring a delay of three
weeks.
Metcalf left his bride at a friend's house within five miles of
Harrogate, and came to the Queen's Head to perform the usual service of
playing his violin during the breakfast half-hour. In the meantime Mrs.
Benson and her other daughter began to prepare for breakfast, and
observing that Dolly lay very long in bed, her mother desired that she
might be called; but her usual bed-fellow declaring that she had not
slept with her, she was ordered to seek her in some of the other rooms.
This was done, but in vain. They then took it for granted that she had
gone out early to take a morning ride with Mr. Dickenson (the intended
bridegroom), but he could give no account of her. All her friends now
began to be seriously alarmed, and a person from the Oak came and
informed Metcalf of all that had happened there that morning.
Metcalf listened seriously to the news, and then composedly said, "You
need not be alarmed. I MARRIED HER since you saw me last night!"
He then sent a message through the brother of his Dolly to the father
and mother, to the effect that he asked their pardon. He acknowledged
that he was far below them in circumstances, but his affection for their
daughter was sincere, and he promised that he would make them the best
amends in his power by affectionate treatment of his wife.
It is hardly to be supposed that they were mollified by this assurance.
Metcalf took a small house at Knaresborough. It was a matter of wonder
that Miss Benson should have preferred a blind man to Dickenson, she
being as handsome a woman as any in the country. A lady having asked her
why she had refused so many good offers for Blind Jack, she answered,
"Because I could not be happy without him." And being more particularly
questioned, she replied, "His actions are so singular, and his spirit so
manly and enterprising, that I could not help liking him."
Metcalf continued going to Harrogate as usual, and one day determined to
pay a visit to his mother-in-law. He mounted his horse, and riding up to
the kitchen-door called for a pint of wine. There were then only women
in the house, who were afraid to serve him, and they all ran upstairs in
a fright. He then rode into the kitchen, through the house, and out at
the hall-door, no one molesting him.