Читать книгу Pyg - Russell Potter - Страница 15

7

Our journey into Liverpool was not a Long one, for although we travelled entirely by Foot, it did not consume more than half an Hour. That noted City was not quite so Built up in those days as it has since become, save along the Quays, where a great deal of Business was done; the greater number of the Buildings were of a Low sort, and the lanes not much different from those of the smaller Towns, save that they were more Numerous and Crowded. We shortly arrived at the Town Hall, an impressive stone edifice with tall vaulted Windows, and a Roman sort of Portico. We were informed that it had once been topped by a square Tower, which had recently been Dismantled, in order that a round dome could take its Place, but at the time of our Visit, this work was Incomplete, and the roof quite Flat. Our Appearance on the Steps caused quite a commotion, for although a Pig in the streets of Liverpool was quite beneath anyone’s Notice, a Pig on the Steps of the Town Hall was cause of Clamour and Outcry. Never was I more Offended, or taken Aback at the human Prejudice of feeling, than I was when two tall men dressed in the Livery of the City, came upon me with great Brooms, as though to Sweep me off their stairs!

Fortunately, at just this Moment, the Lord Mayor’s secretary came forward, and motioned us back down the stairs, explaining that our Examination was to take place in a builder’s Yard on the opposite Corner of the Square. Here, with the blank brick faces of the neighbouring Buildings for our Enclosure, we were met by the Lord Mayor, a red-cheeked, huffing man by the name of James Blackburn. He did not exhibit any Sympathy of any kind—which hardly surprised me—but more than that, he seemed to possess a sort of Anti-Feeling that was so pronounced as to be almost a Feeling. My master was dismissed at once, though to his great Relief, Sam was permitted to remain. Mr Blackburn retained only his Secretary, who took his station at a little Table in the corner of the Yard, quill in Hand, to transcribe the Proceedings.

‘Ah, so this is the Celebrated “sapient” Pig, eh? Is that correct?’

No one else seeming ready to answer, Sam ventured a ‘Yes, sir.’

‘And of what does his Sapience consist, eh? Can you tell me how many Ounces in a Gill? Name the most prosperous port in the Antilles? Tell what disguise Achilles wore when he was hiding amongst the women in the Palace of Lycomedes? Hey! Speak your Wisdom, you learned Swine, or for ever hold your Peace!’

To this I could not, at first, conceive of any Answer, so dire and Strong were my feelings. But then Sam, who knew a good deal more about these strange Queries than I, began his Signals—as subtly, if not more so, than our Master used to. First, he signalled the number Five, which I quickly pickt out from the Numbers that were among our Cards. So much for the ounces in a Gill! I thought. And then, at his direction, and by Eyes only, he had me pick out P-U-E-R-T-O and R-I-C-O. Last, he had me spell out this phrase: ‘D-R-E-S-S-E-D A-S A G-I-R-L.’

Throughout my Performance, the Lord Mayor looked upon me most Intently, his eyes Widening answer by answer. By the last phrase, his jaw quite literally Dropt, such that one could almost Hear it go Slack—here was a Man astonished, as they used to say, Turned to a very Stone! It was a long, full minute before he could muster up his Reply, even as his Secretary sat Poised with his Pen to take it Down, and it was this: ‘Hah! I dare say we have here a Pig better schooled than Half the Aldermen of the City! Ho! By God, Wilkinson, here there be Wonders! Give this Pig a Licence, and tell his Man that he is certainly the Lesser of the Two!’ Thus saying, half Laughing and half Reproaching himself for his Doubts, Mr James Blackburn the Younger stept Out from the Yard, leaving his Secretary to scribble us up a Licence, for which I was most heartily Proud—for This I had done by Myself, with my Benefactor’s help only. God save the city of Liverpool! To this day, it remains the one place in the World where I can say I proved my Self by my Self—and for that I shall ever be Grateful.

Our Licence at last secured, we returned to our lodgings at Green Bank, and shortly removed to the Juggler Street Market, which was at that time a common place for shows of all Kinds. It consisted merely of a Widened portion of the main Street, part of which was taken up by a group of Stalls, with the rest left open for a varied array of Entertainments. The cost for erecting our Show here was steep, being £5 6s., but Mr Bisset had great Plans, and considered the fee a mere Pittance. Here we would perform but a Reduced version of our regular programme, and give out handbills and discounted Tickets for our upcoming Engagement at his friend’s place, which was called Ranelagh Gardens. I must Confess that, having some time later attended the Establishment of that Name in Chelsea, it Bore no Resemblance to Gardens whatsoever. For, despite their grand Name, these ‘Gardens’ would in fact be better described as a Yard adjoining a Tavern. In its midst there stood a modest Amphitheatre, with wooden benches and a Stage that could accommodate a few Players (though certainly not a full Orchestra). In a manner that was, at best, a dim Echo of its London namesake, each evening commenced with a Concert, followed by a few tawdry Entertainments, and concluded with Fireworks. Our appearance there, to my Mind, would Raise both the Custom and Reputation of the place by a considerable Measure, besides bringing a very handsome Profit to Ourselves.

And so indeed it came to pass. For the first week, our performance was preceded by a musical soirée, featuring the talents of a certain Mr Morgan upon the Violin, and the vocalisations of a Mrs Ellis, but the Interest was so Plainly in our Favour, that the proprietor decided to give us the Top billing—upon which Morgan and Ellis promptly quit the show, being most Unwilling, they said, to follow a Pig upon the programme. Their departure was Lamented by None, and Mr Bisset quickly expanded our Act, adding a Routine we had practised, whereby I would ‘Tell’ the time after examining a pocket Watch provided by a member of the Audience, as well as a Clairvoyant Act, in which I seemed to read Minds. Of this particular portion of the show, out of professional Pride, I will not disclose the Secret—but those who are Privy to similar Acts performed by Humans, will easily be able to infer how I managed to fit the same Bill. It is still Remarkable to me that there are more people willing to credit a Pig with Extraordinary powers than with the most Ordinary ones, such as the understanding of the Rudiments of Language.

The Gardens were packed to their Limit every Evening, and even though the proprietor hired carpenters to put in additional Stalls on either side of the benches, the crowd spilled out on to the Grass, with people vying for the best View, and jostling one another in their anxiety to behold this new Wonder. We had a run of nine weeks, with almost no decline in Attendance, and drew our show to a Conclusion more for the sake of our own Rest than for any slackening in our Business. The last night was the most crowded of all, and at the end of our Performance, we were met by the Lord Mayor and a Committee of Prominent Citizens, who presented us with the Liberty of the Town, and claimed pride of place as the First city in which the Learned Pig had made his Public reputation.

It was by this time quite late in the Year, and the Season for performances out-of-doors was quickly drawing to a Close. We had one other Prospect that Mr Bisset had contemplated, which was to take ship from Liverpool to Dublin, where we might manage a booking in an indoor Theatre or Lecture-hall. He had already corresponded with a number of possible venues, sending along the latest clippings from the Press as evidence of our Warm reception. The most notable of these was Astley’s Amphitheatre, a dependent House of its Parent Chapter in London, which did an enormous trade in Equestrian shows, with a Variety of other Acts between. As the Premier establishment of its Kind, its Rates were far higher than any we had yet Commanded; the least expensive Seats cost a Shilling, with private Boxes running from 10s. 6d. to £2 11s More might be made in a single Night there than we had earned in our entire time in Liverpool, and Mr Bisset was quite keen to secure an Engagement.

We waited a further Week, the Weather being quite Dismal and Wet, and almost had decided to go Home, when a letter arrived via the Dublin Packet. We were offered a two-week stand at Astley’s, with a most generous Guarantee against receipts; should Attendance be better than contracted, we would gain a Percentage of the sales of Tickets. Mr Bisset was beside himself, and Sam’s mind was quite Overtaken with thoughts of Dublin. And yet, for myself, I must in Truth declare that I had begun to Weary of the life of a Performer, and secretly Hoped that I might enjoy some months Away from the Stage, or perhaps even Retire with my Laurels intact. Never the less, seeing my Benefactor’s heart was so much Set upon the Journey, I undertook to accompany him Freely and put aside my Doubts, trusting that our Success There would mean a longer, quieter time After.

The next morning, as we went to board the Packet, I encountered the first of what, in retrospect, seem ill Omens. The Captain of our Vessel absolutely Refused to have any Animals above deck, however crated or Constrained; we must be in the Hold. No amount of Cajoling would change his mind, neither any Sum—and Mr Bisset made a most Generous offer, more than Twice the fare of a human Passenger—induce him to Budge so much as a Fraction. I was therefore hauled down Below by a pair of stout young Sailors, and my enclosure Packed with all the others, alongside a slatted crate of half-starved Cattle, and several boxes of laying Hens. It took some ingenuity, but Sam, of course, eventually managed to Find me and, though his Visits were brief, he brought me morsels of his own Food, and News from above Decks, such that I considered myself not much less Comfortable than I would have been Above. The crossing was a lengthy one, with an intervening Call at the Isle of Man, and it was very late indeed that I learnt—by Sam’s shout—that the distant lights of Dublin could be seen.

As we drew up along the stone Quays of the River Liffey, I could hear the shouts of the Stevedores as they readied their ropes and nets, and before long I was at last restored to Fresh air. As I was hauled out on a Pallet, I caught my first Glimpse of that vast City, which was the dim outline of the Custom House, and behind it the lamplit streets of a bustling Metropolis. So here we were: at the peak of our Fame, doubtless soon to be the Talk of the Town—and yet, for some reason I could not Fathom, I felt nothing within my heart but a sort of cold, containing darkness that I could neither penetrate nor shake off.