Читать книгу Pyg - Russell Potter - Страница 14

6

My next Progress through the World was far more Comfortable than my Last. Rather than being jostled about in utter darkness in a gloomy enclosure filled with foetid Straw, I was ensconced in a lovely wooden Case, so spacious one might almost call it a Room, fitted with a small Trough of clear water and a stack of fresh Carrots, with clean grass for my Bed and a view of the Road before me. This Case was cleverly fitted with a wooden Rim about the bottom, so that it held close to, and stayed secure atop, the other Crates beneath and beside it, all of which were secured with heavy leather Straps. The Horses trotted along in their curious Manner, directed by Mr Bisset without the use of any Whip or other device such as a coach-driver would employ, but only by his Voice, and in a manner so efficient that he never needed to Shout, but that the Horses would speed, or slow, or turn, or halt, in such a Natural manner that it seemed almost as though the idea was their Own, and not an act of Obedience to another.

Our Tour, for so it was to be, commenced in the smaller Market towns along the road that led from Manchester to Liverpool, passing through Warrington, Newton-le-Willows, Wigan and Prescot. By this Progress, or so I inferred, Mr Bisset hoped we might work the Rough edges off our Act in smaller venues, where audiences were more forgiving, before we unveiled our Production to the more Discriminating show-goers of the larger Towns and Cities. There was, I discovered, a regular Calendar-full of Charter fairs in each of these towns, held for time out of mind on certain set dates, typically the Feast-day of some local Saint. Apparently these Saints must all have been Patrons of Commerce, for they very conveniently arranged that their Festivals would follow in perfect sequence, so that a travelling showman, such as Mr Bisset, could attend each one of them in Sequence, without having to backtrack or sit idly, from the middle of May to the end of June.

Being relative Upstarts in the show-world, we were generally relegated to the less frequented part of the Pitch, as a fairground is known, while more experienced showmen had the advantage of the best Ground, where the greater number of people would Pass. Never the less, I believe we readily overcame this disadvantage, due in large part to Mr Bisset’s canny nature, and Sam’s limitless energy. The Horses were our chief Ambassadors: outfitted with colourful Caparisons advertising our Show, they processed through the fair, pausing every so often to perform a series of Tricks. They were so well trained that, at a single Word, they would execute their full routine, as well for Sam as for their Master. Sam had only to learn the bit of patter that accompanied their act, and to lead them from place to place. By the time they returned to their Stalls, they had each brought a dozen or more fair-goers in their Train, and as every showman knows, having a Crowd is the best way to attract a larger one.

The opening routines with the dogs and monkeys were, to my mind, of a very Ordinary sort, but they were colourfully arranged, with each calculated to be just slightly more impressive than the last. The final scene, where one of the monkeys rode upon the back of a Dog, which executed a series of Leaps while the second monkey played a Barrel-organ, excited Universal shouts of pleasure, especially from the Children present. This was followed by the ‘Cat Opera’ in which a line of three Felines sat on silken cushions and struck at Dulcimers, all the while seeming very earnestly to read the Sheet-music set before them. At the same time, a series of Tom-cats would come a-caterwauling, yowling along with the music in a very tuneful manner—for Cats, at least. This opera then gave way to a brief Circus, in which cats rode a Barrel down a Rope, climbed a pole and sprang into a Net, and batted a great Wicker ball around a Ring. The Hare then beat upon the Drum with his Tail, while the Turkeys executed their ‘Country Dance’; it required only a Modicum of Imagination to suppose that they actually moved to this Music, rather than leaping about to avoid burning their Feet.

All this was but a Prelude to my Appearance, which at first gave me a considerable fit of Anxiety. A performer is fortunate, I have since felt, if he struts upon the Stage only in the opening Act, like the guards of Elsinore in Hamlet: they have no one to follow, but all else must Follow them. Whereas, if one’s Cue comes late upon the Bill, one must follow, and seem to Exceed, every Act that has come before. On my very first performance, I was most Reluctant to emerge from my Compartment, so much so that Mr Bisset rapped upon the Enclosure with his Cane, which sent me scurrying forth quite abruptly, and to much Laughter on the part of the Crowd. Happily, I soon recovered my Composure, and turned my mind entirely to the Task at hand, for which Mr Bisset was an admirable Guide. He had taken the Precaution of asking those who wished their Questions addressed by the wonderful Sapient Pig, to fill in cards with their names and their questions written upon them (if they Could not write, then Sam would take down their Particulars). Mr Bisset held these cards in his hand quite Openly, for of course it did not occur to anyone that he had any means of Communicating their contents to me. He would shuffle them up a bit—in fact, making sure that there were not two persons named ‘John’ or similarly common names as ‘Tom’ and ‘Tim’ as these would risk, however slightly, the audience catching on to his Signals. He varied the words he chose quite astutely, and occasionally would use his Shoe to scuff out the code for some of the letters in Taps, such that neither his Utterances nor his Demeanour appeared to offer any Clew as to the right answers.

There was a Hush, always, as I picked out the letters and numbers, and a great Cry of amazement when I spelt out just the answer. Besides getting the names, the Questions were all fairly Common: young Maids wanted to know if they would be married, and how many Children they would have, and would they have a lovely Home; Boys wanted me to guess their Age, and never complained if I Added to the Figure, while Men—who rarely participated, unless at the Insistence of their Wives—asked about only the most practical sorts of things, such as what price Apples would bring at Market this year, or what Horse they should wager upon at the Races. And my Master, since he made it his business to know a great deal about exactly such matters, was always able to give me a serviceable Reply, and when a Guess had to be made, one that pleased the Querent. At the end of my performance, I was to make a little Bow, and spell out ‘G-O-O-D-B-Y-E’, which always led to a great round of Applause, and a great take at the Nobbins (which is what we showfolk call the Money that is dropped in as a Hat is Passed).

We did a very good business indeed at these Fairs, and by the time we arrived at the town of Prescot, we had taken in nearly a hundred Pounds, and Mr Bisset gave it out to Sam that we might consider carrying on to Liverpool, where he had a Friend who was the Proprietor of a Garden, said to be a veritable Vauxhall in Miniature, where we might draw far larger Crowds. There was only one Difficulty with this Plan, and that was the matter of Licences. The Magistrates in those days were often simply Men of the Town, of some Age and Dignity, whose usual purview was small disputes over Property, or minor civil offenders such as Disturbers of the Peace. When the time came each year for the Fair, they quite naturally extracted a Fee from all who would exhibit there. The fee was a standard one—amounts of five pounds or thereabouts were common—but the Magistrate was quite free to Increase it, for any arbitrary Reason, or, should the mood take him, to deny a Licence, even when a man was quite Ready to pay for it. Agricultural exhibitors, and vendors of food, were passed through quite Routinely, but as showmen we often faced a much more lengthy, and sometimes capricious, line of Questioning. Was the show harmful to public Morals in any way? Were the Animals treated in a Humane manner? Was there any Trick or Deception by which the poor honest fair-goer was to be taken for his hard-earned money? We sometimes had to run through our whole routine for the Magistrate’s benefit, and he and his Men might demand to see, and Inspect, any part of our Apparatus for signs of trickery.

Nearly all of the time, we were eventually allowed to put on our Show, though we were often assessed a higher Rate, to reimburse the Town for the trouble of examining us, or to stand surety against any later Discovery of deceit. Mr Bisset was a charming man, although I must say his power to charm Magistrates was as nothing before his gift with Animals. And this, as it happened, was precisely the Issue with Liverpool, as the Lord Mayor there, who was in charge of licences, was widely known to be especially Hostile to showmen. Never the less, with a ready venue, and the promise of great Profit, we hazarded the Journey, and the next day arrived in the little hamlet of Wavertree. From here, it would be but a short journey on foot into the City, and we could at least make Enquiry, to ‘test the waters’, as humans say, and see whether our Hopes might be given something to Feed upon. In the mean-time, our Bodies, at least, were well watered and fed, as we were lodged at Green Bank, near Mossley Hill, where an acquaintance of Mr Bisset kept a small dairy farm. Sam remained with me, thankfully, for I should not have liked to be left with Strangers, and we waited anxiously to see what the Result of our Master’s enquiries might be.

It was late that night when he returned, and his Mood was darker than I had ever known it. The Lord Mayor’s secretary had kept him waiting the better part of the Afternoon, and when at last he was Admitted, had given him only a very brief and Dismissive interview. Mr Bisset had exerted all his power, and with the assistance of some Friends of his in the City, had persuaded him to reconsider, but only to this extent: he must examine the Pig in question, without any interference, and all alone—nothing else would do!—and if at last he were satisfied that there was no Deception, he would consider granting permission for its Exhibition. Our Master was, of course, gravely Troubled at this, for he believed that without his Presence, and his Signals, I would be unable to Demonstrate my intelligence, and all would be Ruined. Of course Sam and I knew better, but we could not, even at this juncture, bring ourselves to Disclose to Mr Bisset my true Knowledge of Letters. We feared either that it would Break his Spirit, by making it seem that he was no longer Needed, or cause him to fly into a Rage at this betrayal of his Secrets. Never the less, Sam at least persuaded him that he should come along; perhaps the Lord Mayor would not mind if a young boy, said merely to be the pig’s keeper, stayed by him.

This thought so delighted Mr Bisset that he at once agreed, and proposed that, in a single night, he would train Sam with at least a perfunctory set of signals, so that he could, if permitted, transmit them to me in His Lordship’s presence. Sam, of course, already knew them all, but went along with the ruse, as being the easiest Solution to both his and Mr Bisset’s Predicament, and of course, so did I. We ran through the signals for ‘YES’ and ‘NO’ and even risked ‘MAYBE’, which, at five letters, was as far as our Master ventured to trust us. By means of these three replies, he hoped, we might be able to Convince His Lordship that, under the strictest measures, there was neither Fraud nor Deceit in this our Show, but that it was in fact an innocent, and indeed an Instructive, demonstration of the Native Wit of the Porcine race. It was quite late by the time we had completed our exercises, and as we were due in Town at ten the next Morning, we all retired at once, Mr Bisset to his Friend’s cottage, and Sam and myself—as had become our habit—to a common bed of Straw in the back of the Wagon. And there we slept, deeply and Soundly, as we had never slept before, and woke Refreshed, as though we had drunk the waters of Elysium, and wandered the hills of Paradise.