Having well recruited his pockets by this stratagem, he left the city next day, and travelled towards Bath, acting the madman all the way till he came to Bath. As soon as he came there, he inquired for Dr. Cooney’s, and being directed to his house, found two brother mendicants at the door; after they had waited some time, the servant brought each of them a halfpenny, for which his brother mendicants were very thankful; but Mr. Carew gave his halfpenny to one of them; then knocking at the door, and the maid coming out again, Tell your master, said he, I am not a halfpenny man, but that my name is Bampfylde Moore Carew, king of the mendicants, which being told, the Dr. came out with one of his daughters, and gave him sixpence and a mug of drink, for which he returned thanks.
The next day he went to Mr. Allen’s seat, near Bath, and sent in a petition as from a poor lunatic, by which he got half-a-crown. From thence he made the best of his way to Shepton Mallet, when, calling at Mr. Hooper’s, and telling the servant who he was, the mistress ordered him in, and inquired if he was really the famous Bampfylde Carew; she then gave him five shillings, and ordered him to be well entertained. At Shepton Mallet our hero had the pleasure of meeting with his beloved wife, to their mutual joy and satisfaction; and finding several brethren of the order there, they passed some days together with much mirth and harmony.
Going near Rye, in Sussex, (where, upon account of their extraordinary merit, the two brothers L---d are perpetually mayors,) he met two of his mendicant subjects, who acquainted him there was no entering the town, but with extreme hazard to his person, upon account of the severity which the mayor exercised towards all of their community. Mr. Carew’s wife hearing this, entreated him in the most tender manner not to venture into the town; but as his great heart always swelled when any thing hazardous presented, and as he was willing to show his subjects, by example, that nothing was too difficult for industry and ingenuity to overcome, he was resolved to enter Rye; which he did with a very slow, feeble, and tottering pace, stopping every minute by the most violent fits of coughing, whilst every limb shook with an universal palsy, his countenance appearing rather to be the property of some one among the dead than to belong to any living body: in this manner he crept along to the mayor’s house, and in a most lamentable moan begged some relief. The mayor, seeing so deplorable a figure, said he was indeed a real object of pity; and therefore gave him a shilling, and liberty to go through the town; which he did with no little profit, and with great applause from the mendicants, when they heard of his success.
Steering from thence to Dungeness, he found a vessel ready to sail for Boulogne, on board of which he embarked, and landed safe there; and found it so thronged with English soldiers, (it being soon after the reducing of the army,) that had he not known the contrary, he should have
thought himself in some town in England. Some of the soldiers knowing him, cried out, Here’s Bampfylde Moore Carew! upon which they took him along with them to their quarters, and they passed the day very merrily: the soldiers expressed great discontent at their being discharged, swearing they would never come over to England any more, saying, if they had not come over then, they should have been either starved or hanged. He then inquired how they lived in France? They replied, never better in their lives. From Boulogne he set off for Calais; where he likewise found a great multitude of English soldiers, and more were daily coming in. Whilst he was here, the Duke of Richmond arrived, in his way to Paris; who, seeing many English soldiers, asked some of them why they came there? to which they replied, they should have been either starved or hanged if they had staid in England. Mr. Carew intended to have paid his respects to his grace, but had not an opportunity; and soon after, being taken very ill, was obliged to desist from his intended design of making a tour through France, Germany, &c.
He therefore took a passage in the packet-boat from Calais, and landed at Dover; from hence he went to Folkstone, where he got a pass and relief from the mayor, under the name of John Moore, a native of St. Ives, in Cornwall, who had been cast away on the coast of France, in a vessel coming from Ireland. Having borne this character as long as suited his inclination, he metamorphosed himself again, and appeared in quite a different shape. He now wore a full handsome tie-wig, but a little
changed by age; a good beaver hat, somewhat duffy; a fine broad-cloth coat, but not of the newest fashion, and not a little faded in its colour. He was now a gentleman of an ancient family and good estate, but reduced by a train of uncommon misfortunes. His venerable looks, his dejected countenance, the visible struggles between the shame of asking and the necessity which forced him to it, all operated to move the pity of those he applied to, which was generally shown by handsome contributions, for few could think of offering mites to a gentleman of so ancient a family, and who had formerly lived so well; and indeed how much soever we may envy the great in their prosperity, we are as ready to relieve them in their misfortunes.
Mr. Carew happening to be in the city of Wells, in Somersetshire, on a Sunday, was told that the bishop was to preach that morning: upon which he slips on a black waistcoat and morning-gown, and went out to meet the bishop as he was walking in procession, and addressed himself to his lordship as a poor unhappy man, whose misfortunes had turned his brain; which the bishop hearing, gave him five shillings. From Wells he steered to Bridgewater, but did not appear in the day-time, and went only in the evenings upon his crutches, as a poor lame man, not being known by any one till he discovered himself.
Having heard that young Lord Clifford, his first cousin, (who had just returned from his travels abroad,) was at his seat at Callington, about four miles from Bridgewater, he resolved to pay him a visit. In his way thither resided Parson
C---, who being one whom nature had made up in a hurry without a heart, Mr. Carew had never been able to obtain any thing of him, even under the most moving appearance of distress, but a cup of small drink. Stopping now in his way, he found the parson was gone to Lord Clifford’s, but being saluted at the door by a fine black spaniel, with almost as much crustiness as he would have been, had his master been at home, he thought himself under no stronger obligation of observing the strict laws of honour, than the parson did of hospitality; and therefore soon charmed the crossness of the spaniel, and made him follow him to Bridgewater; for it is very remarkable “that the art has been found of taming the most savage and ill-natured brutes, which is generally attended with success; but it requires a much higher skill, and is but seldom successful, to soften the ill-nature and inhumanity of man: whether it is that the brutes are more capable of receiving instruction, or whether the ill-nature of man exceeds that of the brutes, we cannot well determine.”