Authors: Russell Potter
But when we came to the Farm itself, I could see at a glance, as could we all, that we had come too
Late
. The Gate was in a sad state, its leather latch long gone, and the whitewash
rained away from stone and lath. The gravel path that once led to the front door was almost entirely obscured by Weeds, and the House itself—such as we could make it out—was practically
overtaken by Vegetation, as though the Earth would swallow it entire. There could be no doubt that no active Hand had overseen the farm for some time, and that Mr Lloyd—were he still
extant—must long ago have left the premises. We poked about, idly, and I spied the rotted ruin of the Shed that had once adjoined my Sty, but of the place itself we could only guess its
outlines by the undulations of the soil, and the rankness of the vegetation that grew taller and darker where once our Swill had been poured out to us, and where my
Mother
—of whom I
could scarce recall more than a shadow’s shadow—had dwelt.
Tempus fugit, non autem memoria!
We did not linger at the spot, but pressed onwards with our
Tour
, for the Season was growing late, and our road yet stretched out long before us. Our next stop was
Lancaster, which we reached by way of the villages of Walkden, Chorley and Scorton, passing through many a stretch of open country, and many a desolate mere. As we came into the outskirts of the
town, we could see upon the horizon the looming form of Lancaster Castle, an imposing edifice that from time immemorial had housed one of the principal of His Majesty’s
Prisons
, and a
notorious one as well; here it was that the Preston Witches had been hanged nearly two centuries past, and the gallows still stood from which they had dangled. We dared not approach the castle that
evening, preferring to lodge at the White Cross Inn, which stood at the city’s edge near the ancient foundation of the Knights Hospitallers, which gave the district its Name.
Our performance here was to be at a new
Theatre
, which had been established in St Leonard’s Street, in the northeastern corner of the city. The proprietor, a Mr Charles
Whitlock
, anxious to gain for the place the reputation of a legitimate House, had been hesitant to make any Engagement with us; it was only (so we were told) after Mr
Dibdin
wrote on
our behalf that he at last agreed to our appearance. He attended our rehearsal in a state of some
Anxiety
, which, despite all our skill and our professional demeanour, we seemed unable to
Relieve; the poor man simply could not reconcile himself to the idea of a
Pig
upon his stage.
We had the happiness to prove him wrong, for we drew a full, indeed an
overflowing
, house, with a standing Ovation at the conclusion of our Act, and he afterwards came directly to us to
offer his
Apologies
, and introduce us to his sister-in-law, the distinguished actress Mrs Siddons. I at first felt considerable trepidation in meeting that
Luminous
woman, whose
piercing gaze seemed to penetrate one’s very Soul—but as soon as we met, she laughed, and Curtsied, and told me she had a very good Report of me from her good friend Miss Seward, which
gracious lady had written to her on my Account! It turned out to be
her
urging, and not Mr Dibdin’s, that had secured us a place there, a kindness for which I at once expressed my
undying gratitude. And, indeed, I later received from my dear Patroness a poem in her praise, which has been very well received, and which begins,
S
IDDONS
, when first commenc
’
d thy ardent course,
The powers that guard the Drama
’
s aweful shrine,
Beauty, and grandeur, tenderness, and force,
Silence that speaks, and eloquence divine!
All of which, I can personally avouch, is
true
.
The next morning we breakfasted at our Inn, then made our way through the narrow streets of that ancient
City
, pausing at the foot of the deeply shadowed edifice of the Castle, at a place
yet known as ‘Hanging Corner’. Here, hard against a stone wall and a fortified Turret, stood an enormous Scaffold of dark wood, untenanted for the present, but ever ready to receive new
Visitors.
And, though it may indeed be said that its ‘frame outlasts a thousand tenants’, it is yet still true that the gallows does well by doing
ill
. No Animal but
Man
could, I aver, have ever conceived of such a structure, whose entire motive force is directed to the mechanical Extinguishment of a Life. Every other creature of the Earth knows, and all
too well, that time on Earth is measured, and that many a
Rascal
may outlive a goodly creature, but Man alone presumes to take Fortune’s very
Wheel
in his hands, and break it
over the head of his Fellows.
And so we went upon our way, passing through the villages of Carnforth, Lowgill and Oddendale, making our next rest in the ancient town of Penrith, with its lovely market-square and ruined
castle, where it was said that Richard III lived for some years prior to ascending—if that is the right word for it—the throne of England. Of course I knew him as a villain, and an
especially cruel one, from Shakespeare, but I could not help but feel a measure of empathy for a man so often mocked for mere physical deformity—after all, there’s ‘no beast so
fierce but knows some touch of pity’—even if the soul within were
more
deformed. The castle was built of handsome reddish stones, and was by way of slowly returning to the soil,
as these same stones appeared in many a local dwelling or patch of wall, there being no other materials so near at hand in such a desolate country.
Of the hinterlands and frontiers that lie between England and Scotland, I can say but little, other than that—should the
Union
of these two countries be ever hoped to come to
meaningful Fruition—it will first be necessary to improve the Roads. The zigzag passage of our wagon over hill and Dale, along the rutted, mad-angled and treacherous by-ways that pass for
roads in these parts, made me more Sea-sick than ever I was aboard a ship. It was fortunate indeed that we had no engagements in this part of the country, as I would scarcely have been able to
Stand, let alone give any kind of Performance, so greatly was I troubled in my Legs and afflicted in my Stomach. It was with a sense of blessed relief that we began our slow descent into the
welcoming valley of the Clyde, and could glimpse at last, upon the Horizon, the sooty towers and busy quays of Glasgow, where next we were to make our Appearance.
We shortly crossed over the river and proceeded to King Street, where we arrived momentarily at our destination, the Dancing establishment of Mr
Frazer
. It was said, at the time of our
Exhibition there, to be the principal school of Etiquette and fine Manners in the
City
, and very much the Glass of Fashion for its inhabitants. One might wonder that such a place would
welcome the presence of a Pig such as I, but on our meeting Mr Frazer all our uncertainty as to his motives was at a stroke
Dissolved
. Here was a man so jovial, so Warm of spirit, and yet so
graceful in his manners, that he could manage to Roar with laughter without in the least way deviating from his excellent Deportment; indeed, he made the sound so freely and spontaneously, that he
readily
Infected
all the Company around him with it. (I must here confess that, try though I might, I could not—nor could any of my Race—manage to emulate the human
Laugh
,
but under Mr Frazer’s influence and tutelage, I came as near such a Sound as I should ever hope to venture, convulsed as I was with a sort of intermittent Wheeze.)
Our host had made arrangements for our accommodation at an Inn convenient to the place, and on our arrival we found that all was paid for in advance, an act of kindness Rare among his kind. We
had been engaged for a full week of double performances, with afternoon and evening shows each day, but both were of a different kind from any to which we had previously been accustomed. Mr Frazer
had us in a front room on the ground floor, with a bay window facing the street, through which we could be seen as our own Advertisement. We did not, however, do any of our more complicated
routines, but rather, on the hour and the half-hour, a sort of brief impromptu sketch, in which we took advantage of the composition of the Crowd and displayed some business fitted to their
interests and Capacity. For children, we did simple sums and took questions on school subjects; for a crowd of women, we did an abbreviated version of our mind-reading act; for men, who were more
abundant at the evening performance, we did our more elaborate routines, including Latin conjugations and declensions.
As the week progressed, I could see the wisdom of our Host’s design: the shorter, periodic performances drew crowds into his antechambers, but also left them with idle time between our
Acts—time in which, as it would happen, they might have a peep into one of the Dancing-rooms, and perhaps—especially if a young person were present with a parent or chaperone—they
might enrol their names as pupils. I am sure that, during our sojourn there, we brought about a great increase in Business to Mr Frazer, much more than he was paying for our appearances; I might
indeed have resented the Bargain, save that I soon came quite to prefer these small and Spontaneous routines to our usual lengthier and more constrained ones. With them, I felt much more like a
Visitor or a
Guest
than a mere Novelty or object of Admiration, and I was able to make the acquaintance of quite a number of the better sort of persons of the Town. Among these I might
mention the painter Archibald Blair, the barrister John Orr, and the skilled instrument-maker and mathematician Murray
Ofburn
, all of whom paid me the most generous compliments, and with
whom I enjoyed the pleasantest conversations.
Indeed, as the end of our time in Glasgow drew near, I found myself regretting our imminent departure—but I could not disappoint Dr Cullen, though it pained me to make my reconcilement to
such a sad necessity. On our final Evening, the dancing hall was Cleared, and a stage erected so that I might give a full-scale Farewell performance, and the room was filled to overflowing. We
brought back to the bill our Clairvoyant act, our
Whist
, and our ‘Animal Magnetism’ business, and finished the night with a grand Ball, followed by a dancing contest, for which I
was given an honorary appointment as one of the Judges, a duty I discharged (I hope) quite capably, though my view of the dancers was perhaps not so
Elevated
as that of my fellow jurists. At
the end, the winning couple was presented with a Cake, and I was given a laurel Wreath, aptly fitted to my Head, as a parting gift from a Committee of Leading Glaswegians—as a consequence of
which, I have ever since styled myself the Pig
Laureate
of that fair City.
When compared with our previous turbulent journey, the turnpike from Glasgow to Edinburgh was ‘smooth sailing’ all the way; it consisted chiefly of a wide and steady
Track
, with inns at regular intervals and small towns nestled among the many ridges and vales, that followed for a time the course of the
Clyde
. The names of the towns themselves were
most quaint and curious: in the course of one single mile we passed through the settlements of Sallysburgh, Threeprig and Kirk O’Shotts. Many of these consisted of no more than a cottage or
two and a heap of stones; others of more substance managed a small inn, a Well, and a modest church or ‘kirk’, as they are called thereabouts; the most substantial had their own High
Street, crowded with rows of old half-timbered houses and sometimes a small market-square.
Our progress was brisk, as we were most anxious to arrive at the appointed date, and by the afternoon of our third day, we could spy out the distant mass of Edinburgh
Castle
, which as we
drew nearer seemed to stand almost alone atop its stony Cliffs, with the city itself a huddled, darker mass upon the horizon to its side. It made a sight most Dramatic, and one which I often recall
with great Pleasure, as it marked the very first time I beheld that ancient yet lively citadel of Life and Learning, in which I have since made my Home.