to pass, and as a recruiting party of marines was stationed there—as
my friend the gypsy had informed me, though whether or not they had
orders to press he could not tell—I waited outside until the quiet hour
when people had all gone home from church, and had got seated at their
dinners, before I essayed the perilous experiment of walking through.
The wished-for time soon came, the bells had all ceased tolling,
and the streets were nearly deserted, when I stepped at a leisurely
calm pace, as if in no great haste to be gone, along the clear broad
causeway of that neat and cleanly town. Everything seemed to my wish;
it was a hot day: the sun glared on the pavement and against the
windows; the blinds and curtains were nearly all closed; the doors were
open to let in air, and I could hear the children laughing, the mothers
scolding, and the knives and forks clattering as the good folks were
partaking their happy meal. I envied them not, I only wished in my
heart that every soul in the place might be compelled to eat, and never
cease eating, until I had walked clear and far away of that burning
pavement and blistering flag-road; and in sooth I began to think it
certainly would be so, the streets were so quiet, when all at once,
pondering as I went, and with my hat pulled over my brow, I found I
was approaching a marine, who was crossing me at right angles. I would
have given the world if the fellow had only been like the townsfolks,
quietly employed with his pudding, instead of being where he was,
but I took care not to betray any outward sign of either alarm or
dissatisfaction. He was alone, and no other person was in sight, and
if he stopped me, and my old protection trick failed, I had nothing to
do but either to out-run him, or knock him down, or both, and so decide
the matter. These thoughts, however, and these resolves, which came as
quick as a throb, were no sooner present, than, to my surprise as well
as satisfaction, the man merely looked at me in an ordinary way, and
nodding, said, ‘Good voyage, shipmate,’ to which I readily replied,
‘Good quarters, shipmate,’ and each passed on.
“And now, as the protection which I have once or twice mentioned
will not be any more alluded to, I may as well explain, that these
documents, which were given to apprentices, were no protection at all
save whilst the apprentice was on board the ship to which he belonged,
or if on shore, was engaged in the lawful service of his master. If
the navy was greatly short of hands, not only apprentices were seized
despite of their protections, but even carpenters and mates of coasting
vessels would sometimes be made free with. In my case, therefore, who
was absconding from my service, the document, had it been perused,
instead of being a protection would have been a detection, inasmuch
as it would have required a degree of ingenuity beyond my command to
have shown why I, an apprentice on board a coasting vessel on the
North Sea, should be found traversing the streets of St. Albans, or of
Northampton, the king’s veritable _terra firma_—instead of being on his
other element, the ocean.
[Sidenote: _RURAL ENGLAND_]
“This escapade was a great relief to my mind, since having now passed
this second garrison town I had not much fear of being interfered with
by press-gangs, though, wherever there was a party of marines, it
was possible that I might be questioned. The weather was, as I have
intimated, that of a truly English summer’s day. Towards evening, when
the heat was mitigated to a joyous coolness, came a breeze that swept
odours from the wild rose and the honey-bine. Then, by the hill-sides,
or along the valleys, or up the meadow paths, appeared young and happy
couples, the lads in their clean smock-frocks, and the lasses in their
new pumps, smart caps, and ribbons, and all seemingly so full of happy,
contented, and hopeful love, that the tears dimmed my eyes as I looked
towards them. ‘Ah!’ I thought, ‘and will not I be walking with one as
dear and as bonny as any of them before long?’ And thus as I wandered
forward waned that sweet Sabbath eve, and small indeed was the amount
of ‘cash in my locker’ wherewith to procure a lodging, but on I went,
and I must have passed some seven or eight miles beyond Welford, when,
it being nearly dark, I stopped at a good-looking public-house, and
after paying for a glass of beer, which took nearly the last copper
I had, I asked the landlord if there was not a snug corner in his
stable or hay-loft in which I could be allowed to rest till morning?
He said the cattle all slept and pastured out, and he had not so much
as a lap of straw on the premises; but if I would walk on a couple
of miles or so, I should arrive at a place called Wigston, where the
yearly feast was being held, and if I only got amongst the young
fellows there, I would have all I wanted, and that too for nothing. So
thus discouraged in one respect, and encouraged in another, I again
commenced my journey, and walked a long way, the eve settling into
darkness, and not a glimmer from a house, nor the bark of a sheep-dog,
nor any other indication of inhabitants to be seen or heard. I kept on
in this way until I became quite tired, and looked in vain for some
barn, or outhouse, or cattle-shed, in which I might lay down, but not
a vestige of cattle or cattle-shed was to be seen. Not even the tinkle
of a sheep-bell could be heard in that vast stillness. At length I
thought I espied something like swathes of grass on the other side of
a low fence, and climbing over, I found them to be what I expected.
I straightway therefore commenced making my bed, and collecting a
number of swathes together I lay down on part of them, and pulled
the remainder over me until I was pretty well covered, and so, with
a bunch under my head for a pillow, and my hat for a sleeping cap, I
bade good-night to one star which hung winking above, and in a moment
care was no more. When I awoke it was broad day, and the lark was
singing overhead. I jumped up, shook off the dewy grass and clover, and
thanking God for so excellent a bed, with freedom, I leaped over the
fence, and pursued my journey.
[Sidenote: _WAYS AND MEANS_]
“It was now evident that unless I could hit upon some plan whereby
I could procure sustenance on the road, my travels must soon cease.
My last penny had been expended that morning in the purchase of a
cake, and I had not a single halfpenny towards carrying me eighty-six
miles. As for having recourse to dishonest means, that never entered
my thoughts, whilst to beg I could not yet bemean myself. Something,
however, must be devised, and as I wore under my trousers a pair of
stout woollen drawers, nearly new, I concluded on selling them, if I
could meet with a customer; and accordingly I went over the hedge into
a quiet little corner, and stripped off my drawers, tying them up in
a small pocket-handkerchief which I had taken care to preserve. I was
so entirely satisfied with this proceeding, so easy with respect to
present means of subsistence, that I fell into a profound sleep, and
so continued during a considerable time. On arriving at Leicester,
I stopped at a clothes shop, at the door of which an elderly female
stood, of a very decent appearance. I accosted her, and entering the
shop, offered her my drawers on sale. She examined them, and asked
how much I expected for them? ‘Well,’ I said, ‘I should not be very
particular, but I thought they would be cheap at two shillings.’
“‘Two shillings!’ said the dame her keen eyes fixed upon me—‘Why, young
man, I would not give two shillings for all the clothes you have on
your back.’
“I said I was sorry to hear her say that, but how much would she give,
then?
“‘You are a sailor, I suppose.’
“‘I am, or at least have been,’ I replied.
“‘I have a son that is a sailor also,’ she said.
“‘I wish him a safe return then,’ I replied.
“‘Aye, a safe return, with plenty of prize money,’ she quickly added.
“‘Be it as you wish,’ I replied.
“‘Are you going to see your friends?’ she asked.
“‘I’m going to stay with them, I hope.’
“‘Well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do,’ said the dame. ‘I’ll just give you
sixpence for the drawers, and that’s what I call dealing handsomely
with you.’
“‘Could you not give me something more, mother,’ I said, trying to
soften her by that tender appellation, though but with small hope of
success.
“‘Not one half-farthing more shall I give, if you talk till night,’
said the dame, ‘and if I ever get the money back again, I shall be
lucky.’
“I still chaffered with her, trying to obtain a small advance, but it
was of no use, and considering that I might dodge round the whole town,
and be no better, I resigned the drawers.
“‘Where’s the napkin they were tied in?’ she asked.
“‘It’s here,’ I replied, showing it.
[Sidenote: _A HARD BARGAIN_]
“‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I must have that, you know. I bid at the whole lot.’
“My anger was equalled only by my disgust—the little napkin was very
dear to me—and taking up the drawers I was about replacing them in the
napkin with a view to leave the shop, when judging as I supposed my
purpose, she threw down a sixpence, saying, ‘Give me the drawers: if
you were my own son I could not behave better to you.’
“I first secured the sixpence, and, then putting down the drawers,
said, ‘God help the son who has such a mother as you to come to,’ and
left the place.
“My next business was to buy a small loaf, which I soon did, and ate
it with a voracious appetite as I went on my way. I proceeded down the
street and out of the town without being once annoyed by the appearance
of either marine or recruiting party. I passed through Montsorrel and
Loughborough without stopping, and took my rest and a draught of porter
at a small public-house beyond the latter place. After this, towards
evening, I met a company of women coming from the hayfield; they were
disposed to be merry, and dancing and singing with their forks and
rakes on their shoulders, they formed a ring around me. At length one
of the youngest of them sang a snatch of a popular song:
I will be sure to return back again
If I go ten thousand miles, my dear,
If I go ten thousand miles.
“They next produced a keg and a basket, and the kind creatures made me
sit down amidst them, and partake of their brown bread and hard cheese,
which I did heartily, and quenched my thirst with a good draught of
their home-brewed ale, after which, with many thanks on my part, and
kind wishes on theirs, we separated.
“If I could have made up my mind to begging, here had been a fine
opportunity for trying my talents in that line on these kind and
sisterly beings, but I could not find in my heart to inform them
how sorely I was distressed: and though I knew that unless I either
solicited relief on the road, or some unforeseen assistance came to
hand, I must at least endure two days of horrible starvation and
fatigue, I could not humble myself to the act of craving charity.
So still cherishing a kind of irrational and gloomy hope beyond
hope—whilst my benefactors returned to their cheerful and welcome
homes, I advanced into the shades of evening, and the grey and solemn
stillness of a summer’s night had enshrouded all around when I arrived
at the village of Shardlow.
“At one little window only could I see a blinking light. I knocked
at the door, and it was opened; an old couple who were preparing to
retire to rest seemed somewhat alarmed at my entrance, so I hastened
to make known to them that I was a stranger on the road, and would
thank them to direct me either to a hayrick or a cattle-shed, where I
could find shelter for the night. They commiserated the hardship of
my lot in being necessitated to ask such a question, and directed
me to a stable connected with a public-house a little farther on the
way, the residents of which would probably be gone to bed. I thanked
the old folks, and without much trouble found out the house and the
stable alluded to. All was dark and silent around; the stable was quite
unoccupied, and not a straw nor a lock of hay could I find within the
place. I tried to make the manger my sleeping berth—not without a
grateful remembrance of the one at Bethlehem—but I could not fit my
shoulders to the trough, and sleep being denied me there, I lay down
on the bare pavement below, thinking, carnal though I was, that if the
manger once served as a bed for a heavenly Lord, the stones beneath one
might even suffice for a wandering sinner like me; and so I stretched
my wearied limbs on the floor and fell asleep. In the morning I rose as
refreshed as if my bed had been one of down, and leaving my sleeping
apartment in as tidy a condition as I found it, I quietly shut the
door after me, and continued my journey. I spent my last penny in the
purchase of a cake as I entered Derby, and as penny cakes were rather
small concerns in those days, mine was quickly devoured.
[Sidenote: _STABLE QUARTERS_]
“I passed through the town without stopping, and soon found myself once
more amid the beautiful scenery of which our island is so rife. After
walking a mile or two I overtook a little crabbed-looking middle-aged
man, who, notwithstanding that he limped on one foot, and travelled
with a stick, got over the ground rather cleverly. I soon found out
that he was a stay and corset-maker by trade, was a great professor
of religion, and was going to Manchester, as he said, to pick up a
penny in the way of business, and ‘to speak a word to the heathen’
when opportunity offered. And now, I thought to myself, if this man
has only money enough about him to carry us both to Manchester, and
will undertake to provide for me on the way, I shall look upon him as
one sent by Divine providence. I was not long in ascertaining that he
had the means to assist me, and then, in return for his communication,
I gave him a short history of my adventures, without letting him know
the whole truth, and concluded by a proposal that as we were both
journeying to one town, we should keep company, and that he should
furnish the means for my very frugal subsistence till we arrived
there, when I would introduce him to my friends, who would thank him
for his kindness, and amply repay him besides. The prospect of turning
a good penny on the road appeared, from the manner in which I stated
the case, so plain and certain, that the little man assented to the
proposal, and we jogged on to Ashbourne, where he paid for a basin of
milk, and a pennyworth of bread for each, and this was our breakfast.
Soon after leaving Ashbourne, we fell into company with a private of
light dragoons, going home on furlough. At first his presence was not
very agreeable to me, but I soon had reason to conclude that he had
not, for the present at least, any designs of entrapping me, so we
three journeyed together. We now began to mount the hills over which
we had to pass to Buxton, and a long, dreary twenty-four miles the
journey would be, as I was given to understand. The day was very hot,
and I required refreshment in order to enable me to support the heat
and fatigue, but I found my commissary was not going to be at all
prodigal of supplies. In walking about ten miles he paid for one gill
of sorry treacle beer only, and shortly afterwards, finding I could
not keep pace with my comrades, I sat down on a knoll by the roadside,
and they went forward, disappearing over the long moors. After some
time, having got a draught of blessed water at a little rill, I made an
essay to proceed, and had not gone far ere I arrived at a large inn and
posting-house called New Haven. A haven it was indeed to me. I asked
one of the stable men for permission to lie down on the hay-baulks,
which he civilly granted, and there I remained sleep-bound until far in
the afternoon. On awaking I set forward again, quite refreshed and in
good spirits, and was the more anxious to get to Buxton since I should
then be only twenty-two miles from home, a distance which I thought
I should be able to walk with the refreshment of water only, should
chance not throw in my way a particle of solid food. Encouraged thus by
the consciousness of being almost on the verge of my native county, and
of being now traversing the tops of some of those hills which I had so
often contemplated from our playground at Middleton, I stepped forward
with a light heart, over a country of waste and cheerless moors, and of
rolling, billowy hills. Though greatly fatigued, as much probably from
the heat of the three last days as from the want of food, I continued,
with many cheering anticipations, to urge my feeble steps in the
direction of my hoped-for resting-place for the night, though God only
knew what sort of a resting-place that was to be. Another opportunity
now occurred for my asking charity, and I made up my mind to do it. It
was a secluded place in the bottom of a valley. I was descending one
side, and a gentleman, mounted and walking his horse at a quiet pace,
was coming down the other. We met nearly at the bottom, and I looked
at him and lifted my hat, but when my hand should have been extended,
and the words of supplication should have passed my lips, I could not
do either the one or the other, and the gentleman, merely nodding in
return to my civility, passed on.
[Sidenote: _WAYSIDE REST_]
“Shortly after this I began to feel sickly; my head became confused,
and I sat down merely as I thought to rest and take breath, but
I probably fainted, since when consciousness returned night had
completely set in. I however got up as well as I could, and again put
my now stiffened limbs in motion, and had not proceeded more than a
mile ere I became aware that I was approaching numerous habitations,
and pressing forward I was soon at the entrance into the village of
Buxton.
[Sidenote: _ANGELS UNAWARES_]
“My first endeavour was to discover, if I could, a stable or outhouse
of some sort, in which I could take up my lodgings—the last of the sort
which I should want on my present journey. I had not hovered about
the street long ere I espied a ladder reared against what appeared to
be a hay-loft, so I crept up as daintily as if I had been mounting to
a curtained bed of down, and found to my great joy that I was on a
boarded floor, well-stored with hay. Here, then, was my bed at once,
and now all my troubles were over. I was groping about for a place to
make my bed, when, as sudden as a flash, I fell through the floor, and
found myself lying on my back in a lower place. I was rather confused
at first, and scarcely conscious of what had happened, but was soon
made aware that something was vastly wrong by screams of murder, with
occasional prayers and imprecations. Presently a door opened, and
several men entered the place with lights, when I found that I was
lying in the stall of a stable, with my legs across the body of a
female, who continued making a great noise, and whose dress was not
in the most decorous condition. Though shaken by the fall and still
confused, I immediately got upon my feet, when one of the men, holding
a lanthorn to my face, demanded to know why I brought my strumpet into
his stable. In vain I protested that I knew nothing whatever of the
woman. He insisted that I did, and that probably I should have laid
hands on other game also if I found anything worth carrying away. To
this insinuation I had no reply save a repetition of the assertion that
I was innocent, and I added that I only became aware that any living
being was in the place by the accident of falling through the hole in
the floor above, which I pointed out, and also stated my motive for
going there. By this time the woman had risen from the straw, and was
busy arranging her dress.
“‘Why,’ said one of the men, ‘is not that the girl that has been in
company with the limping fellow and the soldier all night?’
“‘The very same,’ said another.
“‘Oh! I see how it is,’ rejoined a third—‘where is the old fox
concealed? he has not been in the tap-room since this woman left it.’
“‘He’s somewhere in the place,’ said one of the men.
“‘He’ll be found not far off,’ said another.
“Instantly they began to search, when a slight noise in the next stall
led them to look that way, and they discovered a pair of legs sticking
out from under some straw.
“Straight that hunting note which is raised on the taking of a fox was
shouted by half-a-dozen voices, and seizing the legs, they pulled out
my little lame friend, the stay and corset-maker, with whom I joined
company that morning.
“‘Here he is, sure enough,’ said one of the men, when they had done
shouting.
[Sidenote: _CAROUSE_]
“‘The old dog bagged alive,’ said another.
“‘Well, how has this come about?’ asked the owner of the place. ‘What
account can you give of yourselves?’ he continued.
“Here a scene and a dialogue ensued, which, however diverting it might
be to those present, I will take the liberty to omit from my narrative.
Suffice it to say, that the landlord cleared the place, locked the
door, and put the key in his pocket, the whole of the party, the woman
excepted, entering the public-house to which the stable was attached,
and from whence the greater part of them had issued hearing the noise.
Here several persons were drinking, smoking, and singing in a kind of
kitchen or family room, and amongst them, drunk and nearly asleep,
was my other fellow traveller of the morning, the young dragoon. The
stay-maker was now sadly bantered on account of his adventure, and at
last, in order to make his peace with the landlord and the company, he
paid for a quart of hot ale and gin, of which I took one or two small
glasses, though I would much rather have had something to eat.
“After I had sat in this company a considerable time, weary and longing
for repose, I espied an opportunity to slip out of the place, and
again mounting the ladder to the hay-loft, I made sure of not falling
through that time. Quickly was I oblivious of all care, and did not
awaken until the morning was far advanced. On descending from my bed I
inquired about the soldier and the stay-maker, and being informed that
they had started three hours before, I turned my steps through the
village and followed them.
“Wearily, and rather faintly, though with a good heart, I mounted the
hills which enclose Buxton on the Lancashire side, and then, with
greater ease, I began to descend the long road down to Whaley Bridge,
my only refreshment being now and then a draught of water from the
small mountain rills which trickled through their rock channels on
the moors. After passing Whaley Bridge I began to ascend, slowly
enough, the steep old road to Disley. The day was again very hot, and
when I had mounted this hard path of the olden time to a considerable
distance, I rested on a stone wall opposite some cottages, at the door
of one of which I soon espied an old woman winding bobbins. I asked
her for a draught of water, when she immediately rose to oblige me,
and brought forth a basin of delicious butter-milk. I thanked her most
gratefully, and as I stood leaning against the doorpost, much fatigued,
she asked if I could eat some oaten cake, and on my saying I could
with pleasure, she invited me to come in and sit down, and speedily
presented me with half of a good substantial cake, baked thick and
without being riddled. I quickly dispatched the cake, when the old
woman—a fine-looking old mother, she was—casting on me a glance of
womanly feeling said, ‘Bless me, lad—for thou art somebody’s lad, I
dare say—thou hast been famished, almost dying of hunger, I’m sure;
couldst thou eat another piece of cake?’ I said I could, and informed
her that this was the first food I had tasted since I left Ashbourne
the morning previous. She accordingly gave me the other half of the
cake, part of which I ate, and the remainder, with some cheese, she
made me put in my pocket, as a snack on the road.
[Sidenote: _HOME AGAIN_]
“Blessings on the memory of that kind old woman! I thought she was much
like what I remembered of my own mother, only more aged. I stole many
a look at her as she moved about the house. Blessings be ever with her
memory!
“After leaving this cottage, refreshed and somewhat rested, I was
soon at Disley, and from thence I passed through Bullock Smithy and
Stockport to Manchester, where I arrived at dusk, and took up my
quarters at the house of a friend until night had set in, when I
visited my father and other relations, and was received by them with
a joyful welcome. I thought it rather strange, however, that they
expressed not any surprise at my return, and on further conversation
I learned that my kind friend, the little stay-maker, had visited
them the same day, and had prepared them for my coming. He had made
them quite easy respecting my condition, having told them that he had
advanced me money sufficient to carry me home comfortably, and that
I was coming on at my leisure. The rascal was consequently very well
received by them, and went away trebly repaid for what he said he had
advanced to me. My father, however, though he abhorred the fraud and
the deception, said, ‘Never mind the money. “My son was dead, and is
alive again; he was lost, and is found.”’”
X
Fate willed it so that Bamford was again to tramp this long road. It
was in 1819, when he journeyed the reverse way, from Manchester to
London, to surrender to his recognisances and to stand his trial on a
charge of seditious assembly. Omitting his preliminary reflections of
the first few miles, we will join him as he walks into Macclesfield:
“I now walked on at a quick pace, and had not gone many miles before
I overtook a young man and his wife, who I soon learned were going to
Macclesfield that night. I said I was going to that place, and somewhat
further; and when I told them of my destination, and that I intended
to walk the journey, they were quite glad of my company, and we agreed
to travel together. I soon learned they were going from Preston to
Loughborough, where they intended to settle amongst the woman’s
relatives. They were a very good-looking couple—he a stout, florid
young fellow, and she a tall, handsome-featured woman; she was also a
good walker, which he was not, being already foot-sore.