Pyg (8 page)

Mr Bisset himself had rented a new and far grander Suit, with a brand new silk
Topper
, and an enormous red velvet bow tie that to my mind stood poised Precariously on the edge of the
Comical
. I had seen a number of Acts in which Animals were dressed as
Clowns
, and could hardly think of anything more Degrading; it is bad enough for Humans to disguise their Folly in
foolish
Dress
, but far worse for us, who have at least the dumb Grace of animal
Sincerity
. Never the less, Mr Bisset wore his Cravat with such style, and animated his Patter with such
native
Dignity
, that I was reasonably confident he would be taken
Seriously
.

And so at last the moment of our Dublin début arrived. The Amphitheatre was filled to Capacity, though to what degree our Presence had anything to do with this, we could not say with any
Certainty
. The riding ring was freshly powdered with Sawdust, and bright stage-lights were Beamed upon it from a bank of lamps furnished with highly polished
Reflectors
; that the
whole place did not go up in Flames was a wonder (and indeed, in later years, both this establishment and its London Parent were several times consumed by
Fire
, and each time Rebuilt). The
thumping of the horses’ hoofs was conjoined with my own still faster Pulse, and the noise and lights made it seem an Impossible thing that a lowly
Pig
such as myself could Enter, and
command the attention of the Crowd in so boisterous an
Arena
. The trick-riders completed their stunts, the Dancing dogs executed their Moves, and the celebrated singing Duck hit all his
Notes—and now it was time for us to step forth into that Blaze of attention. Mr Sweet, summoning all the resonant force of his practised Stentorian voice, declared that ‘the
Performances of this Animal are so truly
Astonishing
, his Intelligence and Instinct so
Great
, that they appear to be the work of
Magic
, and his Sagacity leaves all who see him
in a Maze of
Wonder
at this Extraordinary production of
Nature
—and so,
Mesdames and Messieurs
, may I present
TOBY
, the remarkable Sapient PIG!’ And so we
stept forth.

In the glare of the Lights, I could scarce see any of the Audience, but only the brightly illuminated portion of the
Ring
within which my familiar Letters and Numbers were set
forth—and so, despite the Enormity of the Crowd, I proceeded about my Act just as I always did, with Deliberation and
Alacrity
, and my eye always on Mr Bisset. He himself seemed to
take a few moments to find his Voice, so vast was the Enclosure; he stood blotting his brow with a silken Kerchief, and blinking a bit in the Glare. Never the less, after my first Trick—which
was answering his own Question as to Where we were (this, with a bit of Business, was drawn out into Comic routine, with my first answering, H-E-R-E and when pressed again, D-U-B-L-I-N, and finally
spelling out, A-S-T-L-E-Y-S)—the Audience quite
Roared
its Approval, and he at once Recovered his Bearing in the Warmth of their Applause. Next, I answered a variety of queries he put
to me about History and
Philosophy
, which were all, of course,
Rehearsed
, followed by an Invitation to take any kind of Question from the Audience.

This part of our Act, as may be imagined, quite regularly brought out all the Wiseacres and
Drunkards
in Attendance, as they were always quite Keen to prove a Pig a
Fraud
. My
Master knew them well, and had in hand a series of Rebuffs, which generally
Shamed
them into silence, but here we were first confronted by a lovely young Woman, who simply asked, How I had
felt on being
Taken
from the usual course of a pig’s Life, and obliged to
Work
for a Living. We had a stock answer, which was R-E-L-I-E-V-E-D, and that I speedily assembled.
‘Relieved in what way?’ persisted our
Querent
. And it was then, much to Mr Bisset’s lasting amazement, that I took the occasion to Spell out an answer of my own: N-O-T T-O
B-E E-A-T-E-N. Everyone was Delighted with this reply, at which both Mr Bisset and I took a Bow, but I noticed as he did so that he cast his Eye on me, and hurled at me a Look—though whether
of Wonder, or Disapproval, I could not tell. We then carried on with the remainder of our Act, in which I told the Time, guessed people’s names and
Ages
, and played a game of Cards,
and each new performance drew fresh Applause and shouts. We had, it was apparent, quite won Over the Crowd at
Astley
’
s
, and could have hoped for no better result than the
general Adulation of that body—for whatever the proprietor’s or the Public’s views upon
Pigs
, there was no arguing with Success.

The next Morning, we were visited by a Newspaper man, who wished to work up a Piece on us for the
Freeman
’
s Journal
, said to be the leading paper of the
City
. He was a
jolly fellow, Mr Robinson by name, and not only interviewed Mr Bisset, but insisted on seeing me, and putting to me a variety of questions. From this latter interview, he learnt that I was from
Salford, that I had previously appeared in
Liverpool
, that I was two Years, one Month and eleven Days of
Age
, and that I found the accommodations at the Inn most satisfactory. All
this was indeed written up in the next Issue, which Sam obtained and brought to me for my Perusal; while, of course, I had always taken some pride in my Handbills, it was a new and very grand
feeling to see myself named in a
Newspaper
. In the meantime, Mr Bisset was making his social calls, and receiving numerous demands for Private performances, every one of which he politely
Declined
. For indeed, as he said to Sam later, were he to Answer every one of these
Calls
, the wind would be quite taken out of the Sails of the public
Shows
, for it was only
because our performances were Scarce that they were
Valuable
. It was not until quite late in the day that he and I found ourselves
Unattended
, and then he cast me a Look that I shall
never Forget.

‘Now listen here, Toby,’ he declared. ‘I don’t know how you’ve done it, or who’s put you up to this foolishness—though I have a fair guess!—but
I’ll not have you
Upstaging
me, not ever again! Man over
Pig
, that’s how it has always
Been
, and how it must Be. A little learning is a dangerous thing, it’s
said, but Understand me now: any more
Learning
of that sort will be a far greater
Danger
to you, so long as you’re in my Keeping. Have a mind! I can always take you to
Market
, and trade you for another Pig who’ll learn just as
Well
. There’s money to be had, so long as an Educated Pig minds his
Lessons
, and his
Schoolmaster
—that’s what people want to see—but no one will put down a
Farthing
to behold a Pig as its own master! Now you will Mind your
Letters
, and take
your
Cue
from me, or I shall do away with you, quick as
Thought
—do you hear? You may make your way through the World however you like, but were it not for Me, you’d have
no
Admirers
on this side of a Butcher’s window! And as for that worthless, impudent
Boy
, it’s he who put you up to this, I’ll wager my faith! The ingrate! I’ll
not have him about, I tell you! There’s room for only one Master in this room, and I’ll tan his
Hide
who hinders me!’

This Discourse, which was delivered in an undertone of
Rage
unlike anything else I had heard from a Human mouth, in an Instant disabused me of what little faith I had in
Humanity
.
I knew, as certainly as I know
Now
, that there are
Degrees
of Every thing, but to see Mr Bisset in this light cast a new sort of
Darkness
over my entire Career. A kind heart he
had
Not
; it was all for his Convenience, his Reputation, his
Pride
that he had trained me, and as to his avoidance of
Meat
, I was sure now that was only a
Feint
designed
to Lull his Animal tenants into a False sense of
Security
. No man ever looked more ready to Slaughter and Eat his interlocutor on the spot than did Mr Bisset on that occasion. I reproached
Myself—I should have seen his true
Character
before, should have trusted the Fear that I first felt on discovering his Demesne, and seeing his Working of it! But most of all, I felt a
true
Horror
at the idea that my Benefactor, the only person upon whose
Goodness
I could rely
Absolutely
, was to be sundered from me. Such a thing must not be! But how I could
prevent it, I could not at that time Imagine, so bleak and hopeless my
Situation
seemed.

We completed our run of two Weeks in
Dublin
, although after that first Night, I scarcely allowed them to Register upon my mind. They passed, instead, in a sort of a Blur, like a rapid
series of Dissolving-views thrown upon the Wall by a Magic
Lantern
. Sam was, in fact, not immediately Dismissed, but forbidden to be Alone with me, and put to work for Mr Sweet at a variety
of menial tasks that were, I am certain,
Designed
to keep him occupied, and unable to assist me. Indeed, I overheard some Talk between my two
Masters
that they might very well arrange
for him to ‘stay on’, which would mean that our departure from Dublin would be my leave-taking of Sam. This thought, combined with the sense of both Fear and
Loathing
with which
I now regarded Mr Bisset, kept me in a sort of cool
Terror
throughout these weeks; it was only by closing off my Mind to such thoughts, and focusing solely on my business with the Letters
and the Numbers, that I managed to keep my
Wits
.

And after the last evening, when Mr Bisset was paid off, my worst fears, alas, came
True
. He was a Wealthy man now, with well over two hundred
Pounds
to his credit, and a bundle of
Letters inviting him to engagements in dozens of Towns throughout Britain. He had Promoted himself to a new Frock
Coat
, and his
Cravat
was now all of Silk, as were his
Hose
; a
gleaming pair of jet-black boots completed his outfit, and he looked every inch a Man of
Parts
. For myself, I retained not only my Waistcoat but a small
Medallion
, given me by one of
the Ladies in attendance, in the shape of a red ribbon with a silver Oval. It was, in fact, she told me, a medal that one of her late
Paramours
had been given for his excellence in Oratory,
and she declared that I had a better Right to it than
He
. Never the less, I would have abandoned both of these idle Adornments, if only they could have purchased the continued company of my
Benefactor
, without whom I could hardly conceive of continuing in
Life
. I do believe that, had not Circumstances intervened, I would sooner have allowed my Master to sell me for my
Bacon
than ever again perform for him, whose cruelty in severing me from my lifelong Friend was
Unconscionable
.

That night Sam managed to come to me, having crept out of the rooms where the Stable-hands at Astley’s were lodged, scaled a fence and run round to the Inn-yard where I was caged. Many
were our tears, and they would have been matched by Cries as well, had we not known that any
Noise
would bring the Master’s
Wrath
upon us. Sam swore repeatedly that he would not
Live
without me, and I the same to him, using the little cards he still kept in his Pocket. He had grown in the past few months—indeed, he now looked a strapping young
Lad
—but to me he was still the boy who had clung to that
Wagon
as it raced down rutted lanes and round sharp corners, the boy who had
Stayed
when anyone else would have
simply Abandoned all Hope. He remained with me almost until the Dawn, and left with the
Promise
that somehow, in spite of Sorrow, our ways would Cross again. Sam’s last gift to me was
my blue
Ribbon
from the Fair, which, much to my Surprise, he had retained all this time. He now pinned it upon my
Waistcoat
, gave me a final Embrace, and then was
Gone
.

9

M
r Bisset was up before the Sun the next Morning, directing the porters at the Inn on how to load up his Wagon. I was soon hefted up in my
Enclosure and lashed to my neighbours with strong leather straps, as securely as any
Prisoner
in
Newgate
. From the talk I had heard, we were to take a Northern course, stopping in
Drumcondra, Drogheda, Dundalk, Banbridge and, lastly, Belfast, these places constituting an impromptu
Irish
tour on our way back to England. Mr Bisset meant eventually to get to London,
where the scales of Fame weighed the
Heaviest
, but he was loath to pass up any opportunity along the Way. From Belfast, we would take ship, returning by way of Liverpool, Chester,
Stoke-on-Trent, Birmingham and
Northampton
, the old showman’s circuit, before arriving in the great Metropolis where he had already secured a promise of a month-long engagement at
Astley’s principal establishment, adjacent to Westminster Bridge.