Being once, with his assistant, at Ripon assembly, they resolved to call the next day at Newby Hall, the seat of ’Squire Blacket; having got acquainted with that worthy family by their frequent visits to Harrogate. There they stayed, regaling themselves, till near night, when they set out for home. In the way, they had to cross the river Ure by a ford, or go round by Boroughbridge or Ripon, which latter Metcalf was not inclined to do. They were told that the ford would be found impassable, much rain having fallen. Metcalf, however, was determined to try; but on coming to the water-side, he found his companion was much in liquor, and began to doubt of his getting over: as for himself, he had no fear, being a good swimmer.—So it was agreed that Metcalf should strip, and (leaving his cloathes to the care of his friend) lead his horse over, and thereby prove whether or not it was safe for his comrade to follow. By this means they got over, but not before it was dark. He then began to dress himself, but his waistcoat (in which were the three joints of his hautboy) was missing, as also his silver shoe-buckles, and seventeen shillings which fell from his pocket. This was an unpleasant accident, but there being no present remedy, they made the best of their way to Copgrove, where they rested. Metcalf listened diligently to the clock, and after some hours, supposing the waters to have abated, (which was the case,) he returned, and found his seventeen shillings on the bank, and a buckle on each side of the water. The waistcoat and hautboy he could never recover, although he carefully drew the deeps with a gardener’s iron rake, which he had procured for that purpose at Newby Hall.
Metcalf now bought a horse, and often ran him for small plates. He still continued to be a cocker—often hunted—and sometimes went a coursing; in the evenings he attended to play at the assemblies: finding, from these various pursuits, pretty sufficient employment. Being greatly encouraged by the gentlemen, he began to think himself of that class, excepting that his rents failed to come in half-yearly from his tenants.
About this time there was a long-room built at the Green-Dragon at Harrogate. More music being then wanted, he engaged one Midgeley (one of the Leeds waits) and his son, as assistants. Midgeley, sen. being a good performer, was taken into partnership gratis; but the son, and Metcalf’s former assistant, paid five pounds each premium. This was done with the approbation of all the innkeepers, who wished to keep Metcalf at the head of the band.
In the year 1735, Francis Barlow, Esq. of Middlethorp, near York, who kept a pack of beagles, was at Harrogate, and liking Metcalf, gave him an invitation to spend the winter at Middlethorp, desiring him to bring his horse: the invitation was gladly accepted, and he went out with Mr. Barlow’s hounds twice a week, highly gratified in the enjoyment of his favourite sport. While at Middlethorp, he was invited by Mr. Hebdin, an eminent musician, of York, to come to his house, and play, offering him, gratis, any service or instruction in his power: this kind offer Metcalf readily accepted, and went to practice music on those days when there was no hunting.
He had now completed a visit of six months to the worthy ’Squire of Middlethorpe;—and the hunting season being almost over, he proposed to his patron to take a farewell hunt in the forenoon, intending to proceed to Knaresborough in the evening.—He accordingly set out with the hounds in the morning; returned with the ’Squire at noon; got himself and his horse well fed and watered, and then proceeded to York, to take leave of Mr. Hebdin, previous to his going home. He had learned to walk and ride very readily through most of the streets of York; and as he was riding past the George Inn, in Coneystreet, Standish, the landlord, stopped him, calling out “What haste?” Metcalf told him he was for Knaresborough that night—The landlord replied, that there was a gentleman in the house who wanted a guide to Harrogate; adding, “I know you can do that as well as any one.”—“So I can,” said he, “but you must not let him know that I am blind, for perhaps he will be afraid to trust me.”—“I shall manage that,” replied Standish; so going in, he informed the gentleman that he had procured him a safe guide. Pleased at this, the gentleman requested that Metcalf would come in and take a bottle: this (for an obvious reason) the landlord objected to on the part of Metcalf, but recommended some wine at the door; during the drinking of which, the stranger got ready, and they set off, Metcalf taking the lead. As they were turning Ousegate corner, a voice halloed out “’Squire Barlow’s Blind Huntsman!” but the gentleman not knowing the meaning of this, they rode briskly up Micklegate, through the Bar, turned the corner to Holgate, and through Poppleton Field on to Hessay Moor, and so proceeded forward, going over Skip-Bridge. (At this time the turnpike was not made between York and Harrogate.)
On the North-West end of Kirk-Hammerton Moor, the road to Knaresborough joined the main road which leads to Boroughbridge by a sudden turn to the left; but Metcalf cleared that without any difficulty. When they came to Allerton-Mauleverer, the stranger asked whose large house that was on the right; and was immediately informed by Metcalf. A little farther on, the road is crossed by the one from Wetherby to Boroughbridge, and proceeds along by the high brick wall of Allerton Park. There was a road leading out of the Park, opposite to the gate upon the Knaresborough road, which Metcalf was afraid of missing; but the wind being from the East, and he perceiving a blast coming through the Park-gate, he readily turned his horse to the opposite gate which leads to Knaresborough. Reaching out his hand to open it, he felt the heel, as it is called; and, backing his horse, exclaimed “Confound thee! thou always goes to the gate heel, instead of the head.” The gentleman observed to him that his horse seemed aukward, and that his own mare was good at coming up to a gate; whereupon Metcalf permitted him to perform this office. Darkness (which had now come on) being no obstruction to him, he briskly led the way, resolved that his companion should not again see his face till they got to Harrogate. As they were going through Knaresborough, the gentleman proposed a glass of wine, which Metcalf refused, alledging that the horses were hot, and that being near their journey’s end, it was not worth while to stop:—On then they went; and presently some one cried out “That’s Blind Jack!”—This assertion, however, was contradicted by another person who could not clearly identify him; and by this means the stranger was kept in the dark as effectually as his guide. They then proceeded over the High Bridge, and up the Forest Lane, and then entering the Forest, they had to pass along a narrow causeway which reached about one-third of the way to Harrogate. When they had gone a little way upon the Forest, the gentleman saw a light, and asked what place it was. There were some rocks upon the Forest called Hookston Craggs, and near to these the ground was low and swampy in some places, close by which lays the Leeds road;—about this part were frequently seen at night, vapours, commonly called Will-o’-the-wisp. Metcalf took it for granted that his companion had seen one of these, but for good reasons declined asking him whereabout the light was; and to divert his attention from this object, asked him, “Do you not see two lights; one to the right, the other to the left?” “No,” replied the gentleman; “I seen but one light, that there on the right.”—“Well then, Sir,” said Metcalf, “that is Harrogate.” There were then many tracks, but Metcalf made choice of that nearest the fence: by the side of this path, which is very near Harrogate, some larches were planted; and stepping-stones laid for the convenience of foot-passengers: Metcalf got upon this stony path, and the gentleman’s horse following, got one of his hind feet jammed between two of the stones: when his horse was freed, he asked “Is there no other road?” “Yes,” replied Metcalf, “there is another, but it is a mile about:” knowing at the same time that there was a dirty cart-way just at hand, but to which upon some account he preferred this rugged path.
Arrived at their journey’s end, they stopped at the house now called the Granby, but found that the ostler was gone to bed.—Metcalf being very well acquainted with the place, led both the horses into the stable, and the ostler soon after appearing, he delivered them to his care, and went into the house to inquire after his fellow-traveller, whom he found comfortably seated over a tankard of negus, in which he pledged his guide; but when Metcalf attempted to take the tankard, he reached out his hand wide of the mark: however, he soon found it, and drank; and going out again, left to the landlord the opportunity of explaining to his companion what he was not yet sensible of.—“I think, landlord,” said the gentleman, “my guide must have drank a great deal of spirits since we came here.”—“Why, my good Sir, do you think so?”—“Well, I judge so from the appearance of his eyes.”—“Eyes! bless you, Sir,” rejoined the landlord, “do not you know that he is BLIND?”—“What do you mean by that?”—“I mean, Sir, that he cannot see.”—“Blind! Gracious God!!”—“Yes, Sir; as blind as a stone, by Heaven!”—“Well, landlord,” said the gentleman, “this is too much: call him in.” Metcalf enters. “My friend, are you really blind?”—“Yes, Sir; I lost my sight when six years old.”—“Had I known that, I would not have ventured with you for an hundred pounds.”—“And I, Sir,” said Metcalf, “would not have lost my way for a thousand.” This conversation ended, they sat down, and drank plentifully. Metcalf had with him a case containing a new fiddle which he had just received from London, and the gentleman observing it, desired him to play: the guide gave him as much satisfaction in this way, as he had before done in the character of a conductor; and the services of the evening were rewarded by a present of two guineas, besides a plentiful entertainment the next day, at the cost of this gentleman, who looked upon the adventure with Metcalf as the most extraordinary incident he had ever met with.
1736. The Harrogate season now commencing, Metcalf, of course, resumed his occupation; and, being of a jocular and comic turn, was so well received at all the inns, that he obtained free quarters for himself and horse.
The Green Dragon at that place was then kept by a Mr. Body, who had two nephews with him; and when the hunting season drew near its close, these with some other young men expressed a great desire for a day’s sport; and knowing that Mr. Woodburn, the master of the Knaresborough pack of hounds, had often lent them to Metcalf for the same purpose, they doubted not of the success of his application: being, however, unprovided with hunters, they were obliged to defer the day for near a fortnight before they could be accommodated.
On the evening before the appointed day, Metcalf went, flushed with hope, to Mr. Woodburn, requesting him to lend the pack for the next day. This was a favour out of his power to grant, having engaged to meet ’Squire Trapps, with the hounds, next morning, upon Scotton Moor, for the purpose of entering some young fox-hounds.—Chagrined at this, Metcalf debated with himself whether the disappointment should fall to Mr. Woodburn’s friends, or his own: determining that it should not be the lot of the latter, he arose the next morning before day-break, and crossed the High Bridge near which he had the advantage of the joint echos of the Old Castle and Belmont Wood. He had brought with him an extraordinary good hound of his own, and taking him by the ears, made him give mouth very loudly, himself giving some halloos at the same time. This device had so good an effect, that in a few minutes he had nine couple about him, as the hounds were kept by various people about the shambles, &c. and were suffered to lay unkennelled. Mounting his horse, away he rode with the dogs to Harrogate, where he met his friends, ready mounted, and in high spirits. Some of them proposed going to Bilton Wood; but this was opposed by Metcalf, who preferred the Moor; in fact, he was apprehensive of being followed by Mr. Woodburn, and wished to be further from Knaresborough upon that account.