Pyg (24 page)
Authors: Russell Potter
But the most Curious and unexpected Book I ever encountered never came from the Pens of these famous Wits. I had at the time a standing Order with
Creech
’
s
,
to bring for my review any Works of note new imprinted in England, Scotland or Wales, which might bear upon my
Interests
. Atop this pile one day I was stunned to discover a new Book, which
shamelessly proclaimed itself
My
autobiography! Boldly entitled
The Life and Adventures of Toby the S
APIENT
P
IG
, with his Opinions on Men
and Manners
, this spurious compendium made sport of its Subject, subjecting me to the most Ridiculous impositions imaginable: that my Mother had gained her ‘knowledge’ by eating a
portion of her master’s Library; that I had in my ‘previous lives’ been incarnated as a dog, a scorpion, and even a Fly; that even my name was a corruption of ‘to be or not
to be’—and more. The author of this treatise, indeed, could not resist a Pun, declaring my favourite play to be
Hamlet
, my favourite authors ‘Hogg’ and
‘Bacon’, and so forth. Most incredibly of all, this portmanteau Porker had the audacity to declaim against the distortions of the
Press
: ‘They twisted me badly, some of the
editors; from what they wrote, I firmly believe they had never been there.’
It was the receipt of this pamphlet—for it was really no more than that—which persuaded me at last that I must write my own Memoirs, if only to set forth clearly and without
scurrilous embellishment the actual transit of my Career. Indeed, as I foresaw that my time upon earth was drawing near its Close, I feared, as did that noble
Dane
, ‘what a wounded
name, things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me!’ And so I set forth to un-wound, and unwind my Life, a project to which I was uniquely suited. Sam and I had retained copies of all
of our Bills, along with the notices from the Papers, which we kept in several large scrap-books; these were the only aid to Memory that I sought, or needed, besides a copy of that one invaluable
reference, Laurie and Whittle’s
New and Improved English Atlas
,
Divided into Counties
, which I do not hesitate to recommend to anyone who is recalling, or planning, a long
Journey.
My principal assistant throughout was Jamie, who had some time since grown into a strapping young Man, but who maintained himself with me throughout my declining years. I should mention that
Sam, just as he had at Oxford, was also able to attend the University, becoming at first a Bachelor and later a
Master
of Arts, and eventually opening a small country School, for the
education of less fortunate Children than himself. I often visited him there, and on occasion, at the demand of the Children, would put on a small performance, the only ones I ever did after my
official ‘retirement’ from the stage. Having Jamie enabled me to carry on my work, and Sam to live his own Life, a change that, though distressing in some respects, was both Necessary
and Beneficial to us Both.
For the purpose of composing such a lengthy text, cards were far too cumbersome; instead, I invented a
Device
, in form much like a large pasteboard clock-face, whose ‘hands’ I
could direct at the letters and numbers ranged round its circumference. By grouping the most common letters, such as E, T, A and O, together near the point of Noon, and far less frequently employed
ones—X, J, Q and Z—towards six o’clock, I obtained remarkable speed and efficiency, and could quite frequently manage several pages a day. These Jamie transcribed into a large
bound ledger, whence he later made a Fair Copy, for delivery to my Publishers. Thus equipped, my Literary progress was completed in just under a Year, and brought out by Creech that same November,
whence it has received the kind of warm, widespread Interest and Acclaim that I could scarcely have Hoped for it. As for the Specious narrative penned by that ‘other’ Toby, it has
proven to be a mere passing Novelty, quite washed away with the Tide of the true and
Correct
story of my Life, and I can only hope that in years to come, it will entirely be Forgotten.
The hope that one’s inner spirit may be Captured in language, like a fly in Amber, perpetually present even after its Owner has taken leave of his material body, is a very old one. Plato,
as I recall—or perhaps it was Socrates: my memory has grown rather cloudy—discerns a
Difference
between our ‘mortal’ children, that, is, our Offspring, and our
‘immortal’ ones, which are our Ideas. Of course, not
everyone
’s ideas can last for ever, and one may recall that even Plato once inveighed against the art of
Writing
, which he feared would diminish our Capacity for Memory. Yet it is only because his declamation was
written down
that we have any idea of it; the world of those Ancient Greeks
is long gone, with Ruins immemorial in its place. So therefore it is my hope that, once my own
Carcass
has, as is very likely, returned into the Sod whence it sprang, leaving only a small
scattering of Bones, these my words, and this my
Story
, which you now hold in your hands, will live on.
F I N I S
CHARACTERS AND PLACES OF NOTE IN THE PRECEDING
NARRATIVE
Given in order as to the page of their first appearance, and with historical notes by the present editor, along with glosses of the Latin words and phrases.
(2) Mr Francis
Lloyd
. It would be immensely gratifying to know the exact place of T
OBY’S
birth. However, although the inscription
‘Boothes Hall’ appears on some old maps, there does not seem to be any certain record of Mr Francis Lloyd. The name itself was quite common: a Francis Lloyd was a member of the House of
Commons in 1692; another was Rector of Trottesclive (now Trottisclife, Kent) in 1759; yet another was said to be a manufacturer in London
c.
1830—he had a son, Julius, who became
Rector of St Philip, Salford, in 1891—which is as close as the name can be placed to our
hero
, albeit it comes a century too late.
(4) Samuel
Nicholson
. Information about Mr Nicholson is, alas, very scattered, and we are obliged to rely on fragmentary accounts. In his book
Learned Pigs and
Fireproof Women
(1986), Ricky Jay offers the most extensive account: he states that in 1784 Mr Nicholson appeared in London with a troupe of Animals nearly identical with those of the late Mr
Bisset (p. 11); he also recounts T
OBY’S
appearance at the Academy Room in the Lyceum in 1786, as well as his ‘Scottish Tour’. Jan Bondeson, in her book
The Feejee Mermaid and other Essays in Natural and Unnatural History
(1999), says only that ‘Mr Bisset’s pig was taken over by a certain Mr Nicholson, about whose previous career
little is known’; she also describes the first leg of his northern tour (though she later confuses him with his rival at Sadler’s Wells), and notes that he ‘surfaced’ in
Edinburgh in late 1787, where he was seen by Robert Burns.
None of this is entirely satisfactory: we have neither a definite time nor place of birth, nor any notion of his career before or after his association with T
OBY
. We are
left with only glimpses, as in this account from the
Glasgow Mercury:
Among the infinite number of curiosities hitherto offered to the inspection and attention of the public, there are none which lay so great a claim to our attention and
approbation as the wonderful and astonishing performances of the ‘learned pig’ now exhibiting in Mr Frazer’s Dancing Hall, King Street, from eleven o’clock, forenoon,
to three in the afternoon, and from five to nine at night, where it may be seen this and every day in the ensuing week, at the expiration of which the proprietor is under engagement to set
off for Edinburgh.
This most singular phenomenon is one of the many surprising instances of the ingenuity of Mr Nicholson—a man who is possessed of an exclusive and peculiar power over the most
irrational part of animated nature. Many of the first personages in the three kingdoms have been witnesses to his persevering temper and patience in the tuition of beasts, birds, etc., in a
degree that has seldom fallen to the lot of human infirmity. As to his Pig, this singular creature may justly be deemed the greatest curiosity in the kingdom, and the proprietor makes no
doubt but he will give that satisfaction, and receive that approbation, from the ladies and gentlemen of this city, &c., &c., which he has done in London and Edinburgh.
As to the later career of Mr Nicholson, we possess only the most slender evidence; although the records of the University of Edinburgh confirm that he studied there, there
appears to be no record of his having taken a degree at the time. Regarding the country school that he is said to have established, we have only T
OBY’S
account. And
yet, curiously, there is a record of one ‘Samuel Nicholson’ receiving a medical qualification at Edinburgh in September of 1835; we can only suppose that this may have been a son or
perhaps even a grandson.
(28) Mr Silas
Bisset
It should be noted that there is some uncertainty in the historical record as to Mr Bisset’s given name: during his lifetime, his name was most often printed as ‘S.
Bisset’, and later sources give both Silas and
Samuel
(the latter due to confusion with Mr
Nicholson
). By far the most extensive account of Mr Bisset’s life and career is
that related by Henry Wilson in his collection
Wonderful characters: comprising memoirs and anecdotes of the most Remarkable Persons of Every Age and Nation, Collected from the most authentic
sources
, (1821); Wilson sums up Bisset’s career thus:
Perhaps no period ever produced a more singular character than Bisset; though in the age of apathy in which he lived, his merit was but little rewarded. At any former era
of time, the man who could assume a command over dumb creation, and make them act with a docility which far exceeded mere brutal instinct, would have been looked upon as possessed of
supernatural powers, according to the pagan notions; or would have been burned as a wizard, according to the Christian system.
Wilson states that Bisset was born at Perth, Scotland, about the year 1721, and had originally worked as a shoemaker in London. He hit upon the ‘notion of teaching
quadrupeds’ later in life, after reading an account of a remarkable horse, which had appeared at the fair of St Germain’s. His first trials were said to be with dogs, and ‘two
monkies [
sic
] were the next pupils he took in hand’; then came hares, canaries, linnets, the infamous turkeys, and even a goldfish (though what this fish was taught to do is left to
the reader’s imagination). Bisset’s association with T
OBY
is said to have been a response to a sort of challenge: ‘A doubt being stated to him, whether the
obstinacy of a pig could be conquered, his usual patient fortitude was practised to try the experiment; in the course of sixteen months, he made an animal, supposed the most obstinate and perverse
in nature, to become the most tractable and docile.’
Wilson mentions Bisset’s appearance in Dublin, and briefly describes the incident with the nameless constable:
Bisset was thus in a fair way of bringing his pig to a good market when a Constable, whose ignorance and insolence disgraced his authority, broke into the room; with that
brutality which the idea of power gives (what Shakespeare calls) a ‘pelting petty officer’, he assaulted the unoffending man, broke and destroyed every thing by which the
performance was directed, and drew his sword to kill the swine, which might justly have been called a half-reasoning, instead of a grovelling animal, that in the practice of good manners, was
at least the superior of the assailant. The injured Bisset pleaded, without any avail, the permission he obtained from the chief magistrate; he was threatened to be dragged to prison, if he
was found any more offending in the same manner.
This account agrees in nearly every particular with that of T
OBY
, save that the incident with the Constable is supposed to have happened in Dublin, a
very slight discrepancy when all other details are considered.
Finally, we have an Obituary notice from a Chester newspaper, which confirms his death there, and the high estimate of his abilities he earned in that city:
Last week at Chester the celebrated Mr S. BISSET, the most remarkable man that probably ever lived for cultivating an intimacy with the dumb creation. He made a figure in
London several years ago, as conductor of the Cats Opera; since which time he has instructed, in the most curious tricks and deceptions, several dogs, horses, turtles, birds &c., and
latterly a Pig, which was lately shewn in the North and in this city, and with which he was on his way to London when he died.
(54) Mr James
Blackburn
, Mayor of L
IVERPOOL
. His name is given as ‘James
Blackburn
, the Younger’ in Liverpool records, where
his occupation is listed as ‘cloth manufacturer’. Little else appears to be known about the weave and weft of the man.
(59) Astley’s A
MPHITHEATRE
, Dublin. Philip
Astley
(8 January 1742–27 January 1814) is regarded by many as the ‘father of the
modern circus’. The concept of a ‘circus’, based around a circular riding track and featuring trick-riders along with interludes by acrobats, jugglers, rope-walkers and other
entertainers, was inaugurated by Astley in London in 1768; it was later greatly expanded and enclosed in a purpose-built wooden structure. Flush with the success of this London establishment,
Astley erected a second ‘Amphitheatre’ in Dublin in 1773, making use of the house and grounds formerly the residence of the Molyneux family in Peter Street; it was here that
T
OBY
made his Dublin début.
