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 William
Courtenay's steward had told him there was not a dog could resist his
allurements; however, he believed he had one that would; he then ordered
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 dog, but found him very surly; upon which he took out a little
bottle, and dropping a few drops upon a bit of paper, held it unseen to
the dog, and then told Mr. Day the dog would follow him to England. Away
then he went, and the dog after him. Mr. Day and his servants all
followed, calling Roger, Roger, which was the name of the dog; but Roger
turning 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 him. Having abode here some days, he took his leave,
receiving a handsome 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 thence 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 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 Appledore, he met with landlord Holmes,
who had been in no little fear about his clothes; however, he would not
disrobe till he got to Appledore, where also he added to his store, and
then returning to Holmes, he restored him his clothes, and gave him some
small part of the profit of the excursion.
It was about this time Mr. Carew became acquainted with the Hon. Sir
William Wyndham in the following manner.--Being at Watchet, in
Somersetshire, near the seat of this gentleman, he was resolved to pay
him a visit; putting on, therefore, a jacket and a pair of trowsers, he
made the best of his way to Orchard Wyndham, Sir William's seat; and
luckily met with him, Lord Bolingbroke, 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, and only he and two more saved; and, being put on board an Irish
vessel, he was carried into Ireland, and from thence landed at Watchet.
Sir William, hearing this, asked him a great many questions concerning
the inhabitants of Silverton, who were most of them his own tenants, and
of the principal 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 inquired what family he had,
and whether he had not a son called Bampfylde, and what was become of
him. Your honour, replied he, means the mumper and dog-stealer: I don't
know what has become of him, but it is a wonder he is not hanged 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 William, generously relieved him with
a guinea, and Lord Bolingbroke followed his example; the other gentlemen
and clergy contributed according to their different ranks, which they
were the more inclined to do, as the captains found he could give a very
exact account of all the settlements, harbours, and most noted
inhabitants of Newfoundland. Sir William then ordered him to go to his
house, and tell the butler to see him well entertained, which he
accordingly did; and he set himself down with 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
lip," and Mr. Carew 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 seat
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. This proved to be little
less than a very sharp sword hanging by a hair over Mr. Carew's head,
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 using much ceremony. A few miles
distant from 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 conversation at Sir William's, the Dr. 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 generous, which 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, in a
meadow where 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. In the midst of his oration, Sir
William called to the haymakers to secure him; which struck his eloquence
dumb, or at least changed it from the pathetic to the tragic style, for
he could not conceive 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 commitment to prison; he made choice of the former, and
confessed himself to be Bampfylde Moore Carew, sovereign of the whole
community of mendicants. Sir William, with a great deal of good-nature,
treated him with all that respect which is due to royalty; 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 him.
Soon after this he planned a new design, which he put into execution with
great success. Dressing himself up in a chequered shirt, jacket, and
trowsers, he went upon Exeter quay, and, with the rough but artless air
and behaviour of a sailor, inquired 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 ears swallowed all he
said, interrupted him by taking him into the custom-house, and filling
him a bumper of cherry brandy, which when he had drunk, they forced
another upon him, persuading him to wet the other eye, rightly judging
that the old proverb, 'In wine there is truth,' 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. He with much art answered very
indifferently, no; adding, he scorned to make such a discovery out of a
mercenary 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 to Mr. Eastwood, 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 thrust four guineas into his hand, which at first he
seemed unwilling to 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 their
passage; and at last concluded with acquainting them they had landed and
concealed part of their valuable cargo in the out-houses of Squire
Mallock, of Cockington, and the remainder in those of Squire Cary, of
Tor-abbey, both which houses, upon account of their situation on the
sea-side, were very noted for such concealments. The officers, having
now got on the scent, were like sagacious hounds for pursuing it
forthwith, and also thought proper the sailor should accompany them; and,
to prevent all suspicion, resolved he should now change his habit; they
therefore dressed him in a ruffled shirt, a fine suit of broad cloth
belonging to the collector, and put a gold-laced hat on his head; then,
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 their table, the best
liquors were broached for them, and music, with its enlivening charms,
crowned the banquet; the officers' hearts were 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 inquired if he knew any thing of accounts; promising, if he did, to
get him a place in the customs. In the morning, after a good hearty
breakfast, they set forward for Tor-abbey; and, being arrived in
Tor-town, they demanded the constables' assistance, who was with the
utmost reluctance prevailed on to accompany them in making this search;
Squire Gary 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 poured forth upon their
heads from hearts overflowing with love, respect and gratitude, almost to
adoration, we should not so 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 would 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 deposited.
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 suspicious 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 his 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.
Buckstone, to whom both himself and friends were well known; he
acquainted Mr. Buckstone that 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 the morning he desired Mr. Buckstone to do him the
favour of lending 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 landlord
good-bye. Leaving the mare to discharge the reckoning and the loan he
had borrowed, he repaired immediately to a house of usual resort for his
community, where he pulls off the fine clothes the collector had lent
him, and rigged himself 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
Bampfylde'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 Gary's) having searched all the out-houses, and
even in the dwelling-house, very narrowly, without finding any prohibited
goods, began to suspect the sailor had outwitted them; therefore they
returned in a great hurry to Newton-Bushel, all their mirth being turned
into vexation, and their great expectations vanished into smoke. Soon
after they had dismounted from their horses, the landlord 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
faults 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 sullen silence, interrupted now and then by some
exclamations of revenge, and expressions of dislike 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 Exmouth, where he also succeeded, and
from thence to Squire Stucky's, a justice of peace at Brandscombe, about
four miles from Sidmouth; and, being introduced, acquainted his worship
with several discoveries he could make; the justice thereupon immediately
dispatched a messenger for Mr. Duke, an officer in Sidmouth; in the mean
time he entertained him very handsomely, and pressed him to accept of two
guineas, as a small token of kindness, often shaking him by the hand, and
saying, he thought himself very much obliged to him for making this
discovery: and that, as a reward for his loyalty to the king, he would
engage to get him a place, having many friends at London. About two
o'clock the next morning, Mr. Duke, the sailor, and servant of the
squire's, set forward towards Honiton, it being at Squire Blagdon'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. Carew
gave them the slip, and posted away to Honiton, and took some refreshment
at the Three Lions; then leaving the justice's horse to answer for it,
hasted away to Lime, in Dorsetshire; where he applied to Mr. Jordan, the
collector of the place, whom he sent upon the same errand some miles off,
to Colonel Brown's, at Frampton; but the collector, not judging it proper
for him to accompany him, for fear of creating suspicion, left him at his
own house till his return, giving his servant orders to let him want for
nothing; at the same time making him a handsome present, as an earnest of
a greater reward when he returned. Mr. Carew enjoyed himself very
contentedly at the collector's house for several 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 collector might be on his return, and steered his course
towards Weymouth, where he made his application to the collector, and
after being handsomely 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 Wiltshire. 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 him 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
orders that he should have any thing the house afforded, 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 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, occasioned 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 accidently came that way. Mr. Carew hearing this, rightly
judged Poole was no proper place to make a longer stay in; he therefore
instantly arose, and, by the help of a back door, got into a garden, and
with much difficulty 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 seaman, and raised considerable contributions.
Coming to Ringwood, he inquired of the health of Sir Thomas Hobbes, a
gentleman in that neighbourhood, who was a person of great hospitality;
he was told that some of the mendicant order, having abused his
benevolence, in taking away a pair of boots, after he had received a
handsome present from him, it had so far prejudiced Sir Thomas, that he
did not exercise the same hospitality as formerly. This greatly
surprised and concerned Mr. Carew, that any of his subjects should be
guilty of so ungrateful an action: he was resolved therefore to inquire
strictly into it, that, if he could find out the offender, he might
inflict a deserved punishment upon him; and therefore resolved to pay a
visit to Sir Thomas the next morning, hoping he should get some light
into the affair. When 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 servants, who presently
returned with half-a-crown. As he had been always wont to receive a
large present from Sir Thomas, whenever he had applied to him, he thought
there was some unfair practice at the bottom; he therefore asked the
footman 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 his hurry, so gave
him a shilling out of his own pocket to drink at the next public-house.
This extraordinary generosity of the footman increased Mr. Carew's
suspicion; he therefore kept loitering about the door, and often looking
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 very 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 which Sir Thomas ran
down in his morning gown, and with great passion seized the footman by
the throat, and asked him what he had given the sailor. The fellow was
struck dumb with this, and indeed there was no need for his tongue on the
present occasion, as his looks, and the trembling of his limbs,
sufficiently 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 villany he had lost his boots. He
then made the footman return the whole guinea to the sailor, and
discharged him from any further service in his family; upon which Mr.
Carew took his leave with great thankfulness, and went his way, highly
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 retain part of the donors' benefactions in their own
hands, because it is too much for the poor; nor officers of the public,
who think they may squander the public treasure without account, because
what is everybody's is nobody's.
Mr. Carew having laid aside his sailor's habit, put on a long loose vest,
placed a turban on his head, dignified his chin with a venerable long
beard, and was now no other than a poor unfortunate Grecian, whose
misfortunes had overtaken him in a strange country. He could not utter
his sorrowful tale, being unacquainted with the language of the country;
but his mute silence, his dejected countenance, a sudden tear that now
and then flowed down his cheek, accompanied with a noble air of distress,
all pleaded for him in more persuasive eloquence than perhaps the softest
language could have done, and raised him considerable gains; and indeed
benevolence can never be better exerted than towards unfortunate
strangers, for no distress can be so forlorn as that of a man 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 therefore
can have no resource but in those benevolent minds who look upon the
whole world as their own brethren.