The Surprising Adventures of Bampfylde Moore Carew, King of the Beggars. Unknown

any of that family; he therefore treated him with respect, and called a servant to conduct him into an inner room, where the duke’s barber waited on him to shave him.  Presently after came in a footman, who brought in a good suit of trimmed clothes, a fine Holland shirt, and all the other parts of dress suitable to these.  As soon as he had finished dressing, he was introduced to the duke again, who complimented him on his genteel appearance, and not without reason, as few did more honour to dress.  He was now desired to sit down by the duke, with whom were many other persons of quality, who were all greatly taken with his person and behaviour, and very much condoled his misfortunes; so that a collection was soon made for him to the amount of ten guineas.  The duke, being engaged to go out in the afternoon, desired him to stay there that night, and gave orders that he should be handsomely entertained, leaving his gentleman to keep him company; but Mr. Carew, probably not liking his company so well as the duke’s, took an opportunity, soon after the duke was gone, to set out unobserved towards Basingstoke, where he immediately went into a house which he knew was frequented by some of his community.  The master of the house, who saw him entering the door, cried out, Here’s his Grace the Duke of Bolton coming in! upon which there was no small hurry amongst the company.  As soon as he entered, he ordered the liquor to flow very plentifully at his private cost; his brethren discovering who he was, were greatly amazed at the appearance he made, so different from the usual custom of their order; but when he had informed them fully of the bold stratagem he had executed, the whole place resounded with applause, and every one acknowledged he was the most worthy of succeeding their present good old and respected king.

      As our hero’s thoughts were bent on making still greater advantage of his stratagem, he did not stay long with his brethren, but went to a reputable inn, where he lodged, and set out the next morning for Salisbury; here he presented his petition to the mayor, bishop, and other gentlemen of great note and fortune, (applying to none but such who were so,) and acquainted them with the favours he had received from his grace the Duke of Bolton.  The gentlemen, having such ocular demonstration of the duke’s great liberality, treated him with great complaisance and respect, and relieved him very generously, not presuming to offer any small alms to one whom the Duke of Bolton had thought so worthy of his notice.  In the same manner, and with the same success, he visited Lord Arundel, Sir Edward Bouverie, and many other gentlemen in the counties of Wilts, Dorset, and Somerset.  Coming into Devonshire, his native country, he visited all his friends and most intimate acquaintance in that part, and was relieved by them, not one of them discovering this unfortunate supercargo to be Mr. Bampfylde Moore Carew.  Being one morning near the seat of his friend Sir William Courtney, he was resolved to pay him three visits that day: he went therefore to a house frequented by his order, and there pulled off his fine clothes, and put on a parcel of rags; in this dress he moved towards Sir William’s: there, with a piteous moan, a dismal countenance, and a deplorable tale, he got half-a-crown of that gentleman, as a man who had met with misfortunes at sea; at noon he put on a leather apron, a coat which seemed scorched by the fire, with a dejected countenance applied again, and was relieved as an unfortunate shoemaker, who had been burned out of his house, and all he had; in the afternoon he went again in his trimmed clothes, and desiring admittance to Sir William, with a modest grace and submissive eloquence he repeated his misfortunes as the supercargo of a vessel which had been cast away, and his whole effects lost, at the same time mentioning the kindness he had received from his grace the Duke of Bolton.  Sir William, seeing his genteel appearance and behaviour, treated him with that respect which the truly great will always pay to those who supplicate their assistance, and generously relieved him, presenting him with a guinea at his departure.  There happened to be at that time a great number of the neighbouring gentlemen and clergy at dinner with Sir William, not one of whom discovered who this supercargo was, except the Reverend Mr. Richards, who did not make it known till he was gone; upon which Sir William dispatched a servant after him, to desire him to come back.  When he entered the room again, Sir William and the rest of the company were very merry with him, and he was desired to sit down and give them an account by what stratagem he had got all his finery, and what success he had with it, which he did; after which he asked Sir William if he had not bestowed half-a-crown that morning on a beggar, and at noon relieved a poor unfortunate shoemaker.  I remember, replied Sir William, that I bestowed such alms on a poor ragged wretch.  Well, said Mr. Carew, that ragged wretch was no other than the supercargo now before you.  Sir William scarcely crediting this, Mr. Carew withdrew, and putting on the same rags, came again with the same piteous moan, dismal countenance, and deplorable tale, as he had done in the morning, which fully convinced Sir William that he was the same man, and occasioned much diversion in the company; he was however introduced again, and seated among them in his rags; Sir William being one of the few who pay a greater regard to the man than the dress, can discern and support merit under rags, and despise poverty of soul and worthlessness in embroidery; but, notwithstanding the success of this stratagem, our hero always looked upon it as one of the most unfortunate in his whole life; for, after he had been at Sir William’s, as above-mentioned, coming to Stoke Gabriel, near Totness, on a Sunday, and having done that which discovered the nakedness of Noah, he went to the Reverend Mr. Osburn, the minister of the parish, and requested the thanksgivings of the church for the wonderful preservation of himself, and the whole ship’s crew, in the imminent danger of a violent tempest of thunder and lightning, which destroyed the vessel they were aboard of.  Though Mr. Osburn knew him very well, yet he had no suspicion of its being him in disguise, therefore readily granted his request; and not only so, but recommending him to his parishioners, a handsome collection was made for him by the congregation, which he had generosity enough to distribute among the poor of the parish, reserving but a small part to himself.  Though this was bringing good out of evil, he still speaks of it (after above thirty years lapse since the commission) with the greatest regret and compunction of mind; for he is sensible, that though he can deceive man, he cannot deceive God, whose eyes penetrate into every place, and mark all our actions, and who is a Being too awful to be jested with.

      It was about this time the good old king of the mendicants, named Clause Patch, well known in the city of London, and most parts of England, finished a life of true glory, being spent in promoting the welfare of his people.  A little before his death, finding the decays of nature increase every day, and his final dissolution approach, he called together all his children, to the number of eighteen, and summoned as many of his subjects as were within a convenient distance, being willing that the last spark of his life should go out in the service of his people; this summons was obeyed with heavy hearts by his loving subjects, and, at the day and place appointed, a great number assembled together.

      The venerable old king was brought in a high chair, and placed in the midst of them, his children standing next to him, and his subjects behind them.  Reader, if thou hast ever seen that famous picture of Seneca bleeding to death in the bath, with his friends and disciples standing round him, then mayest thou form some idea of this assembly: such was the lively grief, such the profound veneration, such the solemn attention that appeared in every countenance; but we can give thee no adequate idea of the inward joy which the good old king felt at his seeing such unfeigned marks of love in his subjects, which he considered as so many testimonies of his own virtues; for, certain it is that, when kings are fathers of their people, their subjects will have for them more than the filial love or veneration of sons.  The mind of man cannot conceive any thing so august, as that of a king beloved by his subjects.  Could kings but taste this pleasure at their first mounting the throne, instead of drinking of the intoxicating cup of power, we should see them considering their subjects as children, and themselves the fathers, to nourish, instruct, and provide for them as a flock, and themselves the shepherds to bring them to pleasant pastures, refreshing streams, and secure folds; for some time the king of the mendicants sat contemplating these emotions of his subjects, then bending forward, thus addressed them:—

      “Children and friends, or rather may I call you all my children, as I regard you all with a parental love, I have taken you from your daily employments, that you may all eat and drink with me before I die.  I am not courtier enough yet, however, to make my favours an honest loss to my friends; but, before you depart, the book shall be examined, and every one of you shall receive from my privy purse, the same sum that you made by your business this day of the last week.  Let not this honest act of generosity displease my heirs; it is the last waste I shall make of their stores: the rest of what I die possessed