From this place he went to Camelford; thence to Great Torrington, where he met with his wife, and then proceeded to Biddeford: and on the next day, being Sunday, he strolled down to one Holmes, who kept a public-house between Biddeford and Appledore, where he passed great part of the day drinking pretty freely; and money being at a low ebb with him, he desired landlord Holmes to lend him a good suit of clothes, which he accordingly did. Being thus gallantly equipped, he went and planted himself at the church-door in Biddeford, and pretending to be the supercargo of a vessel which had been a few days before cast away near the Lizard, he got a very handsome contribution. From thence he travelled to Barnstaple, where he had great success, none suspecting him in his dress, as it was certainly known such a ship had been really cast away near the Lizard a few days before. Returning back, he called upon Squire Ackland, at Tremington, where he got half-a-crown of the lady upon the same story; then, steering to Appledore, he met with landlord Holmes, who had been in no little fear about his clothes; however, he would not disrobe till he got
to Appledore, where also he added to his store, and then returning to Holmes, he restored him his clothes, and gave him some small part of the profit of the excursion.
It was about this time Mr. Carew became acquainted with the Hon. Sir William Wyndham in the following manner.—Being at Watchet, in Somersetshire, near the seat of this gentleman, he was resolved to pay him a visit; putting on, therefore, a jacket and a pair of trowsers, he made the best of his way to Orchard Wyndham, Sir William’s seat; and luckily met with him, Lord Bolingbroke, and several other gentlemen and clergy, with some commanders of vessels, walking in the park. Mr. Carew approached Sir William with a great deal of seeming fearfulness and respect; and with much modesty acquainted him he was a Silverton man, (which parish chiefly belonged to Sir William,) and that he was the son of one of his tenants, named Moore; that he had been at Newfoundland, and in his passage homeward, the vessel was run down by a French ship in a fog, and only he and two more saved; and, being put on board an Irish vessel, he was carried into Ireland, and from thence landed at Watchet. Sir William, hearing this, asked him a great many questions concerning the inhabitants of Silverton, who were most of them his own tenants, and of the principal gentlemen in the neighbourhood, all of whom Mr. Carew was perfectly well acquainted with, and therefore gave satisfactory answers. Sir William at last asked him if he knew Bickley, (which is but a small distance from Silverton,) and if he knew the parson there. Mr. Carew replied
he knew him very well, and indeed so he might, as it was no other than his own father. Sir William then inquired what family he had, and whether he had not a son called Bampfylde, and what was become of him. Your honour, replied he, means the mumper and dog-stealer: I don’t know what has become of him, but it is a wonder he is not hanged by this time. No, I hope not, replied Sir William; I should be very glad, for his family’s sake, to see him at my house. Having satisfactorily answered many other questions, Sir William, generously relieved him with a guinea, and Lord Bolingbroke followed his example; the other gentlemen and clergy contributed according to their different ranks, which they were the more inclined to do, as the captains found he could give a very exact account of all the settlements, harbours, and most noted inhabitants of Newfoundland. Sir William then ordered him to go to his house, and tell the butler to see him well entertained, which he accordingly did; and he set himself down with great content and satisfaction; but our enjoyments are often so suddenly dashed, that it has become a proverb, “that many things happen between the cup and the lip,” and Mr. Carew found it so; for, while he was in the midst of his regale, he saw enter, not the ghost of bloody Banquo to take his seat from him, nor yet the much more tremendous figure of Mr. Tom Jones, in a light-coloured coat covered with streams of blood; no, but the foot-post from Silverton, with letters to Sir William. This proved to be little less than a very sharp sword hanging by a hair over Mr. Carew’s head,
for, as he thought it natural Sir William would ask him some questions about Mr. Moore, and as he did not choose, though he had passed Sir William’s strict examination, to undergo a fresh one, he made great haste to rise from table, and set out without using much ceremony. A few miles distant from hence he met Dr. Poole going from Dulverton to Sir William’s, who, knowing Mr. Carew, stopped his horse to talk to him. Amongst other conversation at Sir William’s, the Dr. happened to mention whom he had met that day (not knowing that he had been lately there); it was soon known by the description he gave of his person and habit, to be no other than the unfortunate Silverton man, to whom Sir William and his friends had been so generous, which occasioned a great deal of mirth. About two months after, Mr. Carew again ventured to pay his honour a second visit, in the habit and character of an unfortunate grazier; he met the worthy baronet and his lady taking the air in a chaise, in a meadow where some haymakers were then at work; he approached them with a great deal of modest simplicity, and began a very moving tale of the misfortunes he had met with in life. In the midst of his oration, Sir William called to the haymakers to secure him; which struck his eloquence dumb, or at least changed it from the pathetic to the tragic style, for he could not conceive what might be the end of this; however, the baronet soon gave him a choice of either a true confession of his name and profession, or a commitment to prison; he made choice of the former, and confessed himself to be Bampfylde Moore Carew, sovereign of the whole
community of mendicants. Sir William, with a great deal of good-nature, treated him with all that respect which is due to royalty; entertained him generously at his house, and made him a very handsome present at his departure, desiring him to call upon him as he came that way; and he was ever a constant friend and benefactor to him.
Soon after this he planned a new design, which he put into execution with great success. Dressing himself up in a chequered shirt, jacket, and trowsers, he went upon Exeter quay, and, with the rough but artless air and behaviour of a sailor, inquired for some of the king’s officers, whom he informed that he belonged to a vessel lately come from France, which had landed a large quantity of run goods, but the captain was a rascal, and had used him ill, and damn his blood if he would not ---. He was about to proceed, but the officers, who with greedy ears swallowed all he said, interrupted him by taking him into the custom-house, and filling him a bumper of cherry brandy, which when he had drunk, they forced another upon him, persuading him to wet the other eye, rightly judging that the old proverb, ‘In wine there is truth,’ might with equal propriety be applied to brandy, and that they should have the fuller discovery, the more the honest sailor’s heart was cheered; but, that no provocation should be wanting to engage him to speak the truth, they asked him if he wanted any money. He with much art answered very indifferently, no; adding, he scorned to make such a discovery out of a mercenary view, but that he was resolved to be revenged of his captain. They then ordered him to the sign
of the Boot, in St. Thomas’s, Exeter, whither they soon followed him, having first sent to Mr. Eastwood, an exciseman, to ask what he would have for dinner, and what liquor he would have to drink. A fire was lighted up stairs in a private room, a couple of ducks roasted, and full glasses of wine and punch went cheerfully round; they then thrust four guineas into his hand, which at first he seemed unwilling to accept of, which made them the more pressing. He now began to open his mind with great freedom, gave a particular account of the vessel, where they had taken in their cargo at France, and what it consisted of; the day they sailed, and the time they were on their passage; and at last concluded with acquainting them they had landed and concealed part of their valuable cargo in the out-houses of Squire Mallock, of Cockington, and the remainder in those of Squire Cary, of Tor-abbey, both which houses, upon account of their situation on the sea-side, were very noted for such concealments. The officers, having now got on the scent, were like sagacious hounds for pursuing it forthwith, and also thought proper the sailor should accompany them; and, to prevent all suspicion, resolved he should now change his habit; they therefore dressed him in a ruffled shirt, a fine suit of broad cloth belonging to the collector, and put a gold-laced hat on his head; then, mounting him on a fine black mare, away they rode together, being in all seven or eight of them; they that night reached Newton-Bushel, and slept at the Bull; nothing was wanting to make the night jovial; the greatest delicacies the town afforded were served up at their table, the best liquors
were broached for them, and music, with its enlivening charms, crowned the banquet; the officers’ hearts were quite open and cheerful, as they already enjoyed, in imagination, all the booty they were to seize on the morrow. Thinking they could not do enough for the honest sailor, they inquired if he knew any thing of accounts; promising, if he did, to get him a place in the customs. In the morning, after a good hearty breakfast, they set forward for Tor-abbey; and, being arrived in Tor-town, they demanded the constables’ assistance, who was with the utmost reluctance prevailed on to accompany them in making this search; Squire Gary being a gentleman so universally beloved by the whole parish, (to which he always behaved as a father,) that every one was very backward in doing any thing to give him the least uneasiness. Did gentlemen of large estates in the country but once taste the exalted pleasure of making the whole neighbourhood happy, and consider how much honest industry they might support, how much misery they might alleviate, and how many daily blessings they might have poured forth upon their heads from hearts overflowing with love, respect and gratitude, almost to adoration, we should not so often see them leave their noble country mansions to repair to noise and folly; nor exchange the heart-enlivening pleasure of making numbers happy, for the beguiling smiles and unmeaning professions of a prime minister.
Being come to the house, they all dismounted, and the collector desired the sailor to hold his horse, but he replied he would rather go round the garden, and meet them on the other side of the