The History of Sir Richard Whittington Part 4

LORD MAYOR OF LONDON.

_And the Surprising History of his_

CAT,

TO WHICH IS ADDED

THE CALEDONIAN, A POEM.

_Banbury: Printed and sold by J. Cheney, in the High Street._

THE

HISTORY

OF

WHITTINGTON.

d.i.c.k Whittington was a very little boy when his father and mother died; little indeed, that he never knew them, nor the place where he was born. He strolled about the country as ragged as a colt, till he met with a waggoner who was going to London, and who gave him leave to walk all the way by the side of his waggon without paying anything for his pa.s.sage, which pleased little Whittington very much, as he wanted to see London badly, for he had heard that the streets were paved with gold, and he was willing to get a bushel of it; but how great was his disappointment, poor boy! when he saw the streets covered with dirt instead of gold, and found himself in a strange place, without a friend, without food, and without money.

Though the waggoner was so charitable as to let him walk up by the side of the waggon for nothing, he took care not to know him when he came to town, and the poor boy was, in a little time, so cold and so hungry that he wished himself in a good kitchen and by a warm fire in the country.

In this distress he asked charity of several people, and one of them bid him "Go to work for an idle rogue." "That I will," says Whittington, "with all my heart; I will work for you if you will let me."

The man, who thought this favoured of wit and impertinence (tho' the poor lad intended only to show his readiness to work), gave him a blow with a stick which broke his head so that the blood ran down. In this situation, and fainting for want of food, he laid himself down at the door of one Mr. Fitzwarren, a merchant, where the cook saw him, and, being an ill-natured hussey, ordered him to go about his business or she would scald him. At this time Mr. Fitzwarren came from the Exchange, and began also to scold at the poor boy, bidding him to go to work.

Whittington answered that he should be glad to work if any body would employ him, and that he should be able if he could get some victuals to eat, for he had had nothing for three days, and he was a poor country boy, and knew n.o.body, and n.o.body would employ him.

He then endeavoured to get up, but he was so very weak that he fell down again, which excited so much compa.s.sion in the merchant that he ordered the servants to take him in and give him some meat and drink, and let him help the cook to do any dirty work that she had to set him about.

People are too apt to reproach those who beg with being idle, but give themselves no concern to put them in the way of getting business to do, or considering whether they are able to do it, which is not charity.

"Think of this ye affluent, And when the overplus of your fortunes disturb Your minds, think how little stops the lash of penury, And makes the wretched happy!"

I remember a circ.u.mstance of this sort, which Sir William Thompson told my father with tears in his eyes, and it is so affecting that I shall never forget it:

STORY

OF

SIR WILLIAM THOMPSON.

"When Sir William Thompson was in the plantation abroad, one of his friends told him he had an indentured servant whom he had just bought, that was his countryman and a l.u.s.ty man; 'but he is so idle,' says he, 'that I cannot get him to work.' 'Aye,' says Sir William, 'let me see him.' Accordingly they walked out together and found the man sitting on a heap of stones. Upon this Sir William, after enquiring about his country, asked why he did not go out to work. 'I am not able,' answered the man. 'Not able?' says Sir William, 'I am sure you look very well; give him a few stripes.' Upon this the planter struck him several times, but the poor man still kept his seat.

"Then they left him to look over the plantation, exclaiming against his obstinacy all the way they went; but how surprised were they, on their return, to find the poor man fallen from off the place where he had been sitting, and dead! 'The cruelty,' says Sir William, 'of my ordering the poor man to be beaten while in the agonies of death lies always next my heart. It is what I shall never forget, and will for ever prevent my judging rashly of people who appear in distress. How do we know what our children may come to? The Lord have mercy upon the poor, and defend them from the proud, the inconsiderate, and the avaricious."

But we return to Whittington: who would have lived happy in this worthy family had he not been b.u.mped about by the cross cook, who must be always roasting or basting, and when the spit was still employed her hands upon poor Whittington! 'till Miss Alice, his master's daughter, was informed of it, and then she took compa.s.sion on the poor boy, and made the servants treat him kindly.

Besides the crossness of the cook, Whittington had another difficulty to get over before he could be happy. He had, by order of his master, a flock-bed placed for him in a garret, where there were such a number of rats and mice that often ran over the poor boy's nose and disturbed him in his sleep. After some time, however, a gentleman, who came to his master's house, gave Whittington a penny for brushing his shoes. This he put into his pocket, being determined to lay it out to the best advantage; and the next day, seeing a woman in the street with a cat under her arm, he ran up to know the price of it. The woman (as the cat was a good mouser) asked a deal of money for it, but on Whittington's telling her he had but a penny in the world, and that he wanted a cat sadly, she let him have it.

This cat Whittington concealed in the garret, for fear she should be beat about by his mortal enemy the cook, and here she soon killed or frightened away the rats and mice, so that the poor boy could now sleep as sound as a top.

Soon after this the merchant, who had a ship ready to sail, called for his servants, as his custom was, in order that each of them might venture something to try their luck; and whatever they sent was to pay neither freight nor custom, for he thought justly that G.o.d Almighty would bless him the more for his readiness to let the poor partake of his fortune. "He that giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord, who will return it seventy-fold."

All the servants appeared but poor Whittington, who, having neither money nor goods, could not think of sending anything to try his luck; but his good friend Miss Alice, thinking his poverty kept him away, ordered him to be called.

She then offered to lay down something for him, but the merchant told his daughter that would not do, it must be something of his own. Upon which poor Whittington said he had nothing but a cat which he bought for a penny that was given him. "Fetch thy cat, boy," said the merchant, "and send her." Whittington brought poor puss and delivered her to the captain, with tears in his eyes, for he said he should now be disturbed by the rats and mice as much as ever. All the company laughed at the adventure but Miss Alice, who pitied the poor boy, and gave him something to buy another cat.

While puss was beating the billows at sea, poor Whittington was severely beaten at home by his tyrannical mistress the cook, who used him so cruelly, and made such game of him for sending his cat to sea, that at last the poor boy determined to run away from his place, and, having packed up the few things he had, he set out very early in the morning on All-Hallows day. He travelled as far as Holloway, and there sat down on a stone to consider what course he should take; but while he was thus ruminating, Bow bells, of which there were only six, began to ring; and he thought their sounds addressed him in this manner:

"Turn again, Whittington, Lord Mayor of great London."

"Lord Mayor of London!" said he to himself; "what would not one endure to be Lord Mayor of London, and ride in such a fine coach? Well, I'll go back again, and bear all the pummelling and ill-usage of Cicely rather than miss the opportunity of being Lord Mayor!" So home he went, and happily got into the house and about his business before Mrs. Cicely made her appearance.

We must now follow Miss Puss to the coast of Africa, to that coast where Dido expired for loss of aenus (_sic_). How perilous are voyages at sea, how uncertain the winds and the waves, and how many accidents attend a naval life!

The ship, which had the cat on board, was long beaten at sea, and at last, by contrary winds, driven on a part of the coast of Barbary which was inhabited by Moors, unknown to the English. These people received our countrymen with civility, and therefore the captain, in order to trade with them, shewed them the patterns of the goods he had on board, and sent some of them to the king of the country, who was so well pleased that he sent for the captain and the factor to his palace, which was about a mile from the sea. Here they were placed, according to the custom of the country, on rich carpets, flowered with gold and silver; and the king and queen being seated at the upper end of the room, dinner was brought in, which consisted of many dishes; but no sooner were the dishes put down but an amazing number of rats and mice came from all quarters, and devoured all the meat in an instant. The factor, in surprise, turned round to the n.o.bles and asked "If these vermin were not offensive?" "O yes," said they, "very offensive; and the king would give half his treasure to be freed of them, for they not only destroy his dinner, as you see, but they a.s.sault him in his chamber, and even in bed, so that he is obliged to be watched while he is sleeping for fear of them."

The factor jumped for joy; he remembered poor Whittington and his cat, and told the king he had a creature on board the ship that would despatch all these vermin immediately. The king's heart heaved so high at the joy which this news gave him that his turban dropped off his head. "Bring this creature to me," says he; "vermin are dreadful in a court, and if she will perform what you say, I will load your ship with gold and jewels in exchange for her." The factor, who knew his business, took this opportunity to set forth the merits of Miss Puss. He told his majesty "That it would be inconvenient to part with her, as, when she was gone, the rats and mice might destroy the goods in the ship--but to oblige his majesty he would fetch her." "Run, run," said the queen; "I am impatient to see the dear creature."

Away flew the factor, while another dinner was providing, and returned with the cat just as the rats and mice were devouring that also. He immediately put down Mrs. Puss, who killed a great number of them.

The king rejoiced greatly to see his old enemies destroyed by so small a creature, and the queen was highly pleased, and desired the cat might be brought near that she might look at her. Upon which the factor called "p.u.s.s.y, p.u.s.s.y, p.u.s.s.y," and she came to him. He then presented her to the queen, who started back, and was afraid to touch a creature who had made such a havoc among the rats and mice; however, when the factor stroked the cat and called "p.u.s.s.y, p.u.s.s.y," the queen also touched her and cried "Putty, putty," for she had not learned English.

He then put her down on the queen's lap, where she, purring, played with her majesty's hand, and then sung herself to sleep.

The king having seen the exploits of Mrs. Puss, and being informed that she was with young, and would stock the whole country, bargained with the captain and factor for the whole ship's cargo, and then gave them ten times as much for the cat as all the rest amounted to. With which, taking leave of their majesties, and other great personages at court, they sailed with a fair wind for England, whither we must now attend them.

The morn had scarcely dawned when Mr. Fitzwarren stole from the bed of his beloved wife, to count over the cash, and settle the business for that day. He had just entered the compting-house, and seated himself at the desk, when somebody came, tap, tap, at the door. "Who's there?" says Mr. Fitzwarren. "A friend," answered the other. "What friend can come at this unseasonable time?" "A real friend is never unseasonable," answered the other. "I come to bring you good news of your ship _Unicorn_." The merchant bustled up in such an hurry that he forgot his gout; instantly opened the door, and who should be seen waiting but the captain and factor, with a cabinet of jewels, and a bill of lading, for which the merchant lifted up his eyes and thanked heaven for sending him such a prosperous voyage. Then they told him the adventures of the cat, and shewed him the cabinet of jewels which they had brought for Mr.

Whittington. Upon which he cried out with great earnestness, but not in the most poetical manner,--

"Go, send him in, and tell him of his fame, And call him Mr. Whittington by name."