“The snakes I use are about eighteen inches long, and you must first cut the stingers out, ’cos it might hurt you. I always keep two or three by me for my performances. I keep them warm, but the winter kills ’em. I give them nothing to eat but worms or gentles. I generally keep them in flannel, or hay, in a box. I’ve three at home now.
“When first I began swallowing snakes they tasted queer like. They draw’d the roof of the mouth a bit. It’s a roughish taste. The scales rough you a bit when you draw them up. You see, a snake will go into ever such a little hole, and they are smooth one way.
“The head of the snake goes about an inch and a half down the throat, and the rest of it continues in the mouth, curled round like. I hold him by the tail, and when I pinch it he goes right in. You must cut the stinger out or he’ll injure you. The tail is slippery, but you nip it with the nails like pinchers. If you was to let him go, he’d go right down; but most snakes will stop at two inches down the swallow, and then they bind like a ball in the mouth.
“I in generally get my snakes by giving little boys ha’pence to go and catch ’em in the woods. I get them when I’m pitching in the country. I’ll get as many as I can get, and bring ’em up to London for my engagements.
“When first caught the snake is slimy, and I have to clean him by scraping him off with the finger-nail as clean as I can, and then wiping him with a cloth, and then with another, until he’s nice and clean. I have put ’em down slimy, on purpose to taste what it was like. It had a nasty taste with it—very nasty.
“I give a man a shilling always to cut the stinger out—one that knows all about it, for the stinger is under the tongue. It was this Clark I first see swallow a snake. He swallowed it as it was when he caught it, slimy. He said it was nasty. Then he scraped it with his nail and let it crawl atween his hands, cleaning itself. When once they are cleaned of the slime they have no taste. Upon my word they are clean things, a’most like metal. They only lives on worms, and that ain’t so nasty; besides, they never makes no mess in the box, only frothing in the mouth at morning and evening: but I don’t know what comes from ’em, for I ain’t a doctor.
“When I exhibit, I first holds the snake up in the air and pinches the tail, to make it curl about and twist round my arm, to show that he is alive. Then I holds it above my mouth, and as soon as he sees the hole in he goes. He goes wavy-like, as a ship goes,—that’s the comparison. You see, a snake will go in at any hole. I always hold my breath whilst his head is in my swallow. When he moves in the swallow, it tickles a little, but it don’t make you want to retch. In my opinion he is more glad to come up than to go down, for it seems to be too hot for him. I keep him down about two minutes. If I breathe or cough, he draws out and curls back again. I think there’s artfulness in some of them big snakes, for they seem to know which is the master. I was at Wombwell’s menagerie of wild beasts for three months, and I had the care of a big snake, as thick round as my arm. I wouldn’t attempt to put that one down my throat, I can tell you, for I think I might easier have gone down his’n. I had to show it to the people in front of the carriages to draw ’em in, at fair time. I used to hold it up in both hands, with my arms in the air. Many a time it curled itself three or four times round my neck and about my body, and it never even so much as squeeged me the least bit. I had the feeding on it, and I used to give it the largest worms I could find. Mr. Wombwell has often said to me, ‘It’s a dangerous game you’re after, and if you don’t give the snake plenty of worms and make it like you, it’ll nip you some of these times.’ I’m sure the snake know’d me. I was very partial to it, too. It was a furren snake, over spots, called a boa-constructor. It never injured me, though I’m told it is uncommon powerful, and can squeege a man up like a sheet of paper, and crack his bones as easy as a lark’s. I’m tremendous courageous, nothing frightens me; indeed, I don’t know what it is to be afraid.
“The one I was speaking of I have often held up in the air in both hands, and it was more than four yards long, and let it curl round my neck in five or six twirls. It was a boa-constructor, and I believe it know’d me, and that’s why it didn’t hurt me, for I feed him. He had nothing but long great worms, and he grew to know me.
“My performance with the snake is always very successful. The women is frightened at first, but they always stop to see, and only hide their eyes. There’s no danger as long as you keep hold.
“I generally perform at concert-rooms, and penny theatres, and cheap circuses, and all round the country, such as in the street, or at farm-houses, or in tap-rooms. I have done it in the streets of London too, and then I’m dressed-up in fleshing tights, skin dress, and trunks. I carry the snake in a box. When I swallow it some holloa out, ‘O my God, don’t do that!’ but when I’m finished, they say, ‘It’s hardly wonderful to be believed,’ and give money.