When the winter was over, Metcalf thought he must take alookout of London. Accordingly he set out through Kensington, Hammersmith, Colnbrook, Maidenhead, and Reading, in Berkshire; and returned by Windsor, and Hampton-Court, to London, in the beginning of May. In his absence, Colonel Liddell had sent to his lodgings, to let him know that he was going to Harrogate, and that, if agreeable to him, he might go down either behind his coach or on the top. Metcalf, on his return, waited upon the Colonel, and thanked him, but declined his kind offer, observing, that he could, with great ease, walk as far in a day as he would choose to travel. The next day, at noon, the Colonel, and his suite, consisting of sixteen servants on horseback, set off, Metcalf starting about an hour before them. They were to go by way of Bugden, and he made his way to Barnet. A little way from Barnet the Bugden and St. Albans roads part, and he had taken the latter: however, he made good the destined stage for sleeping, whichwas Welling, and arrived a little before the Colonel, who was surprized at his performance. Metcalf set off again the next morning before his friends, and coming to Biggleswade, found the road was crossed with water, there being no bridge at that time. He made a circuitous cast, but found no other way, except a foot-path which he was dubious of trusting. A person coming up, asked, “What road are you for?”—He answered, “For Bugden.” “You have had some liquor this morning, I suppose,” said the stranger.—“Yes,” replied Metcalf; although he had tasted none that day. The stranger then bid him follow, and he would bring him into the highway. Soon after they came to some sluices, with planks laid across, and Metcalf followed by the sound of his guide’s feet; then to a gate, on the side of the turnpike, which being locked, he was told to climb over. Metcalf was struck with the kind attention of his conductor, and taking twopence from his pocket, said, “Here, good fellow, take that, and get theea pint of beer;” but the other declined it, saying he was welcome. Metcalf, however, pressing the reward upon him, was asked, “Can you see very well?” “Not remarkably well,” he replied. “My friend,” said the stranger, “I do not mean totytheyou:—I am Rector of this parish; and so God bless you, and I wish you a good journey.” Metcalf set forward with the parson’s benediction, and stopped every night with the Colonel: On coming to Wetherby, he arrived at the inn before him, as usual, and told the landlord of his approach, who asked him by what means he had become acquainted with that, and was informed by him how he had preceded the Colonel the whole week, this being Saturday, and they had left town on Monday noon. The Colonel arriving, ordered Metcalf into his room, and proposed halting till Monday; but Metcalf replied, “With your leave, Sir, I shall go to Harrogate to-night, and meet you there on Monday.” In truth, he was anxious to know the worst respecting the woman who hadbeen the cause of his journey; and was much pleased to find matters in a better train than he expected, for being in a comfortable way, and not inclined to be farther troublesome. Many friends visited him on Sunday, and the next day the Colonel arrived. But of all his friends, the dearest was at the Royal Oak: with her he had an affectionate meeting, after an absence of seven months. During this interval a young man had been paying his addresses to her; and knowing that Metcalf was acquainted with the family, he solicited him to use what interest he had in his behalf: this, when made known to the lady by the man of her heart, afforded them both great entertainment.
Metcalf became now in great request as a performer at Ripon assembly, which was resorted to by many families of distinction, such as those of Sir Walter Blacket of Newby, Sir John Wray, Sir R. Graham, ’Squire Rhodes, ’Squire Aislaby of Studley, and many others. When he played alone,it was usual with him, after the assembly, to set off for Harrogate or Knaresborough; but when he had an assistant, he remained all night at Ripon to keep him company, his partner being afraid to ride in the dark.
Finding himself worth fifteen pounds, (a larger sum than he ever before had to spare) he made his favourite Miss Benson his treasurer; but as he had not yet begun to speculate in the purchase ofland, and a main of cocks being made in the neighbourhood, he became a party, and drawing his cash from the hands of his fair banker, he lost two-thirds of his whole fortune.—The remaining five pounds he laid on a horse which was to run at York a few days after; and though he had the good fortune to win the last wager, his general imprudence in this way produced a little shyness from his sweetheart.
His competitor (not suspecting the intimacy between Metcalf and the young lady) pushed his suit briskly; and after a short time, banns were published in the churches of Knaresborough and Kirby-Overblow.—Metcalfwas much surprised, having long thought himself secure of her affection. He now began to believe that she had laid more stress on his late follies than he had been aware of, and the remembrance of them gave him exquisite pain, for he loved her tenderly, and was restrained from proposing marriage to her only by the doubts he had of being able to support her in the manner she had been accustomed to. On the other hand, his pride made him disdain to shew that he was hurt, or to take any measures to prevent the match. The publication of banns being complete, the wedding-day was appointed.—The supposed bridegroom had provided an entertainment at his house for upwards of two hundred people; and going with a few friends to Harrogate on the Sunday, proposed the following day for the nuptials, which were to be solemnized at Knaresborough, intending to return to Harrogate to breakfast, where a bride-cake was ready, with a hamper of wine, which latter was to have been carried to Kirby, for the use of the guests he had invited.
On the Sunday, Metcalf riding pretty smartly past the Royal Oak, towards the Queen’s Head, was loudly accosted in these words—“One wants to speak with you.” He turned immediately to the stables of the Oak, and, to his joyful surprise, found there his favourite, who had sent her mother’s maid to call him. “Well, lass,” said he, “thou’s going to have a merry day to-morrow; am I to be the fidler?”—“Thou never shalt fiddle at my wedding,” replied she. “What’s the matter? What have I done?” said Metcalf.—“Matters may not end,” said she, “as some folks wish they should.” “What!” said he, “hadst thou rather have me? Canst thou bear starving?”—“Yes,” said she, “withtheeI can!” “Give me thy hand, then, lass,—skin for skin, it’s all done!”
The girl who had called him being present, he told her, that as she and his horse were the only witnesses to what had passed, he would kill the first who should divulge it.—The immediate concern was to fix on someplan, as Miss Benson was apprehensive of being missed by her friends.—Jack, ever prompt at an expedient, desired that she would that night place a lighted candle in one of the windows of the old house, as soon as the coast was clear, and herself ready to set off, which will doubtless appear to the reader a very extraordinary signal to a blind man; but he had conceived measures for carrying the projected elopement into effect by the assistance of a third person. This being approved of, she went into the house, and in a short time was followed by Metcalf, who was warmly received by the supposed bridegroom and company. The tankard went briskly round with “Success to the intended couple;” in which toast, it may be readily believed, Metcalf joined them most cordially.
Having stayed till it was near dark, he thought it time for putting business into a proper train. Going then to a public house known by the name of the World’s End, he inquired for the ostler, whom he knew to bea steady fellow; and after obtaining from this man a promise either to serve him in an affair of moment in which he was engaged, or keep the secret, he related the particulars of his assignation, and the intended elopement; to forward which, he desired him to let them have his master’s mare, which he knew would carry double.—This agreed on, he requested the further service of meeting him at the Raffle Shop (now the Library) at ten o’clock: a whistle was to be given by the first who got there, as a signal. They met pretty punctually; and Metcalf asked him if he saw a star, meaning the light before mentioned: he said, he did not; but in less than half an hour thestarwas in the place appointed. They then left the horses at a little distance from the house, not choosing to venture into the court-yard, it being paved. On the door being opened by the lady, he asked her if the was ready; to which she replied in the affirmative.—He advised her, however, to pack up a gown or two, as she probably might not see her mother again forsome time. The ostler having recommended the lady’s pillion to Metcalf, in preference to that of his mistress, he asked her for it:—“O dear!” said she, “it is in the other house; but we must have it.” She then went to the window and called up her sister, who let her in. The pillion and cloth were in the room where the supposed bridegroom slept; and on his seeing her enter, she said, “I’ll take this and brush it, that it may be ready in the morning.” “That’s well thought on, my dear,” said he. She then came down, and all three went to the horses. Metcalf mounted her behind his friend, then got upon his own horse, and away they went. At that time it was not a matter of so much difficulty to get married as it is at present; and they, with only the trouble of riding twelve miles, and at a small expence, were united.
Metcalf left his bride, on his return, at a friend’s house within five miles of Harrogate, but did not dismount, being in haste to return the mare he had borrowed withFrench leave. A few minutes after theirreturn, Mr. Body, the landlord, called for his mare, to go to Knaresborough, and fortunately she was ready for him.
Metcalf now went to the Queen’s Head, to perform the usual service of playing during the breakfast half hour. His overnight’s excursion made him rather thoughtful, having got abird, but nocagefor it. While he was musing on this subject, an acquaintance, who made one of the intended bridegroom’s company the evening before, came up, and asked him to take a glass with him. Metcalf quickly guessed what his business was, but adjourned with him to a private room, seemingly unconcerned. “Metcalf,” said he “a strange thing has happened since you were with us last night, concerning Dolly Benson, who was to have been married this morning to Anthony Dickinson.—You are suspected of knowing something about the former; and I shall briefly state to you the consternation which her disappearance has occasioned, and the reasons why suspicion falls upon you. This morning, early, the bridegroom went to Knaresborough,and informed the Rev. Mr. Collins that he and his intended wife were coming that forenoon to be married. In his absence Mrs. Benson and her other daughter began to prepare for breakfast; and observing that Dolly lay very long in bed, her mother desired that she might be called; but her usual bedfellow declaring that she had not slept with her, she was ordered to seek her in some of the other rooms. This was done, but in vain. They then took it for granted that she had taken a ride with Mr. Dickinson; but he returning, could give no account of her. All her friends began now to be very seriously alarmed; and, amongst other fearful conjectures, supposed that she might have fallen into the well, in attempting to draw water for breakfast; and actually got some iron creepers, and searched the well. Her brother then took horse, and rode to Burton-Leonard, to a young man who had slightly paid his addresses to her, and, informing him of the distress of the family, begged he would give information, if in his power. The young man immediately asked him if hehad seen Blind Jack; he answered, that you were at the Oak last night, but did not in the least suspect you.—The other, however, persisted in the opinion that you were most likely to know where the girl was, and gave the following incident as a reason: Being, not long since, at a dance, where Miss Benson made one, he observed her wiping a profuse perspiration from your face, with an handkerchief; and this act was accompanied by a look so tender, as left no doubt in his mind of her being strongly attached to you.”
This narrative (a part of which was no news to Metcalf) was scarcely finished, when young Benson appeared; and Metcalf put an end to all inquiry, by declaring the truth: and thinking it his duty to conciliate, if possible, those whom he had offended, he employed the softest phrases he was master of on the occasion. He begged pardon, through their son, of Mr. and Mrs. Benson, whom he did not presume to call father and mother, and wished them to believe that the warmth of his passion for their daughter, with the despair of obtaining their consent,had led him to the measures he had taken; and that he would make them the best amends in his power, by the affectionate conduct he should observe to his wife.
The son, in part pacified, left Metcalf, and reported this declaration to his parents: but they were just as well pleased at it, as they would have been at the sight of their building in flames; and, in the height of passion, declared they would put him to death, if they met with him.
The poor forlorn Dickinson then departed, accompanied by one of Mr. Benson’s sons. When they got near his home, they heard two sets of bells, viz. those of Folifoot and Kirby Overblow, ringing, in expectation of the arrival of the bride and groom; but the sound was more like that of a knell to Dickinson, who fell from his horse through anguish, but was relieved by the attention of his friend. The company were surprised at not seeing the bride; but matters were soon explained, and they were desired to partake of the fare provided for them.
Metcalf not being able, at once, to procure aPalacefor hisQueen, took a small house at Knaresborough. It now became matter of wonder that she should have preferred a blind man to Dickinson, she being as handsome a woman as any in the country. A lady having asked her why she had refused so many good offers for Blind Jack; she answered, “Because I could not be happy without him:” And being more particularly questioned, she replied, “His actions are so singular, and his spirit so manly and enterprising, that I could not help liking him.” Metcalf being interrogated, on his part, how he had contrived to obtain the lady, replied, That many women were like liquor-merchants, who purchase spirits above proof, knowing that they canlowerthem at home; and this, he thought, would account why many a rake got a wife, while your plodding sons of phlegm were doomed to celibacy.
He now went to Harrogate, as usual, with the exception ofonehouse. Meeting with a butcher there one day, and drinking prettyfreely, a wager was proposed to Metcalf, that he durst not visit his mother-in-law. He took the wager, mounted his horse, and riding up to the kitchen-door, called for a pint of wine. There being then only women in the house, they all ran up stairs in a fright. He then rode into the kitchen, through the house, and out at the hall door, no one molesting him. As there were many evidences to this act ofheroism, he returned, and demanding the stakes, received them without opposition.
The Harrogate season being on the decline, he retired to Knaresborough, where he purchased an old house, intending to build on its scite the next summer. Assisted by another stout man, he began to get stones up from the river; and being much used to the water, took great delight in this sort of work. Meeting with some workmen, he told them the intended dimensions of his house, and they named a price, by the rood, for building it: but Metcalf, calculating from his own head, found that their estimate wouldnot do; so letting them the job by lump agreement, they completed it at about half the sum which they would have got by the rood.
He now went to the Oak, to demand his wife’s cloaths, but was refused: on a second application, however, he succeeded. His wife having brought him a boy, and some genteel people being the sponsors, they employed their good offices to heal the breach between the families, and were so fortunate as to succeed. On the birth of a daughter (the second child) Mrs. Benson herself was godmother, and presented Metcalf with fifty guineas.
He continued to play at Harrogate in the season; and set up a four-wheel chaise, and a one-horse chair, for public accommodation, there having been nothing of the kind there before.—He kept those vehicles two summers, when the innkeepers beginning to run chaises, he gave them up; as he also did racing, and hunting; but still wanting employment, he bought horses, and went tothe coast for fish, which he took to Leeds and Manchester; and so indefatigable was he, that he would frequently walk for two nights and a day, with little or no rest.
Going from Knaresborough to Leeds in a snow-storm, and crossing a brook, the ice gave way under one of his horses, and he was under the necessity of unloading to get him out; but the horse as soon as free ran back to Knaresborough, leaving him with two panniers of fish, and three other loaded horses, which, together with the badness of the night, greatly perplexed him:—After much difficulty, however, he divided the weight amongst the others, and pursuing his journey, arrived at Leeds by break of day.
Once passing through Halifax, he stopped at an inn called the Broad Stone. The landlord’s son and some others who frequented Harrogate seeing Metcalf come in, and having often heard of his exploits, signified a wish to play at cards with him: he agreed, and accordingly they sent for a pack, which he desired to examine a little. The man ofthe house being his friend, he could depend upon his honour in preventing deception. They began, and Metcalf beat four of them in turn; playing for liquor only. Not satisfied with this, some of the company proposed playing for money; when engaging at shilling whist, Metcalf won fifteen shillings. The party who lost then proposed to play double or quit, but Metcalf declined playing for more than shilling points; till at last yielding to much importunity, he got engaged for guineas, and, favoured by fortune, won ten, the whole sum late in the possession of the loser, who took up the cards, and going out, soon returned with eight guineas more: Metcalf’s friend examined the cards, to see that they were not marked; and finding all fair, they went on again, until those eight pieces followed the other ten. They then drank freely at Metcalf’s cost, he being in good circumstances to treat. About ten at night he took his leave, saying he must be at Knaresborough in the morning, having sent his horses before. On his way he crossedthe river Wharfe about a mile below Poole: the water being high, his horse swam, but he got safe home; and this ended his pursuits as a fishmonger, the profits being small, and his fatigue very considerable.
From the period of his discontinuing the business of fishmonger, Metcalf continued in the practice of attending Harrogate, as a player on the violin in the Long-room, until the commencement of the Rebellion in 1745.
The events of that period having been so numerously and so minutely detailed, that any one the least conversant in the history of this country cannot be unacquainted with the origin, progress, and termination of the civil commotions which agitated it,—it would appear unnecessary to obtrude the narration of them here, further than may seem needful to introduce the part in which Metcalf bore a personal share. The circumstance of his commencing soldier, was at that time, and will still by the reader, be looked upon as a very extraordinary proceeding of one in his situation.
The alarm which took place, in consequence of that event, was general; and loyalty to the reigning Sovereign, and Government, with measures for resistance to the Rebel Party, shone no where more conspicuous than in the County of York.
Amongst the many instances which mark this, none were more striking than the signally gallant conduct of the lateWilliam Thornton, Esq; of Thornville.
The opinion of that gentleman, as delivered at the General County Meeting held at the Castle of York, was, that the four thousand men, (for the raising, cloathing, and maintaining of whichninety thousand poundshad been subscribed) should be embodied in companies with the regulars, and march with the King’s forces to any part where their services might be required.—This mode of proceeding, however, not meeting the opinion of the majority of the gentlemen present, he determined to raise a company at his own expence.
In consequence of that resolution, Mr. Thornton went to Knaresborough about the first of October, 1745; and Metcalf having for several years been in the practice of visiting that gentleman’s mansion, (particularly at the festive season of Christmas, where, with his violin and hautboy, he assisted to entertain the family) Mr. Thornton was well acquainted with his extraordinary disposition, and, imagining that he might be of service to him in his present undertaking, sent for our blind hero to his inn, treated him liberally with punch, and, informing him “that the French were coming to join the Scotch rebels, the consequence of which would be, that if not vigourously opposed, they would violate all our wives, daughters, and sisters,” asked him if he had spirit to join the company about to be raised. Metcalf instantly giving an affirmative answer, was asked whether he knew of any spirited fellows who were likely to make good soldiers; and having satisfied his patron on this head also, he was appointed an assistant to a serjeant already procured,with orders to begin recruiting the next day. This service went on with rapid success: several carpenters, smiths, and other artificers were engaged, to all of whom Metcalf promised great military advancement, or, in default of that, places of vast profit under Government, as soon as the matter was over, which he called only abustle; thus following the example of otherdecoy ducks, by promising very unlikely things.
Such was their success, that in two days only they enlisted one hundred and forty men, out of whom the Captain drafted sixty-four, (the number of privates he wanted) and sent immediately to Leeds for cloth of a good quality for their cloathing. The coats were blue, trimmed and faced with buff; and buff waistcoats. The taylors he had employed refusing to work on a Sunday, he rebuked their fanatical scruples in these words: “You rascals! if your houses were on fire, would you not be glad to extinguish the flames on aSunday?” which had thedesired effect. Arms being procured from the Tower, the men were constantly and regularly drilled. Such of them as had relations in the public line, would frequently bring their companions to drink, for the benefit of the respective houses; and Metcalf never failed to attend one or other of those parties, his fiddle and hautboy contributing to make the time pass agreeably: and the worthy Captain was liberal in his allowance of money for such festive purposes, insomuch that had he wanted five hundred men, he could easily have obtained them. Soon after he brought them to Thornville, where he ordered every other day a fat ox to be killed for their entertainment, and gave them beer seven years old, expressing a great pleasure at its being reserved for so good a purpose.
He now began to sound the company as to their attachment to the cause and to himself. “My lads,” said he, “you are going to form a part of a ring-fence to the finest estate in the world! The King’s army is on its march to the Northward; and I havethe pleasing confidence that all of you are willing to join them.”—They replied, as if one soul had animated them, “We will follow you to the world’s end!”
All matters being adjusted, the company was drawn up, and amongst themBlind Jackmade nosmallfigure, being near six feet two inches high, and, like his companions, dressed in blue and buff, with a large gold-laced hat: So well pleased was the Captain with his appearance, that he said he would give an hundred guineas for onlyone eyeto stick in the head of hisdarkchampion.
Jack now played a march of the Captain’s choosing, and off they moved for Boroughbridge. Capt. Thornton having a discretionary route, took his march over the moors, in expectation of meeting some of the straggling parties of the rebel army; and quartered at several villages in his way, where he was kindly received, and visited by the heads of the genteelest families in the neighbourhood, who generally spent the evenings with him. Metcalf being always at the Captain’s quarters,played on the violin, accompanied by a good voice, “Britons! strike home,” and other loyal and popular airs, much to the satisfaction of the visitors, who frequently offered him money, but this he always refused, knowing that his acceptance of it would displease his commander.
Arriving at Newcastle, they joined the army under the command of General Wade, by whose order they were united with Pulteney’s regiment, which, having suffered much in some late actions abroad, was thought the weakest. Captain Thornton gave orders for tents for his men, and a marquee for himself, for which he paid the upholsterer eighty guineas. He pitched them on Newcastle Moor, and gave a pair of blankets to each tent. Jack observed to his Captain, “Sir, I live next door to you: but it is a custom, on coming to a new house, to have it warmed.” The Captain knowing his meaning, said, “How much will do?”—Jack answered, “Three shillings a tent;” which the Captain generously gave, and said,“As you join Pulteney’s regiment, they will smell your breath;” so he gave them ten guineas, being one to each company. On the night of their entertainment, the snow fell six inches.
After stopping here for about a week, the General received intelligence of the motions of the rebels, and gave orders to march by break of day for Hexham, in three columns, wishing to intercept them upon the West road, as their route seemed to be for England that way. The tents were instantly struck; but the Swiss troops having the van, and not being willing to move at so early an hour, it was half past ten before they left the ground, and the snow by that time was become extremely deep in several places: it also proved a very severe day for hail and frost. They were often three or four hours in marching a mile, the pioneers having to lower the hills, and fill up several ditches, to make a passage for the artillery and baggage.
About ten at night they arrived at Ovington, the place marked out for them, withstraw to rest on; but the ground was frozen so hard, that but few of the tent-pins would enter it, and in those few tents which were pitched, the men lay one upon another, greatly fatigued with their march, it having been fifteen hours from the time of their striking the tents, till their arrival at this place, although the distance is only seven miles.
At eleven o’clock at night Captain Thornton left the camp, and went to Hexham, to visit his relation. Sir Edward Blacket, and with a view of getting provisions and necessaries for his men: he was only nine hours absent, as, although it was Sunday morning, the march was to be continued. It having been customary to burn the straw, to warm the men before they set off, orders were here given to preserve it, in case it might be wanted on their return. However, Captain Thornton and the Lieutenant being absent, and the Ensign having died at Newcastle, Metcalf took it upon him to say, “My lads, get the straw together, to burn; our Captainwill pay for more, if we should want it:” which being done, he took, out his fiddle, notwithstanding the day, and played to the men whilst they danced round the fire; which made the rest of the army observe them, though they did not follow their example. The Captain and Lieutenant arriving in the midst of the business, expressed much pleasure and satisfaction in seeing the men thus recreate themselves.
That day they reached Hexham, where they halted. On Monday night, about ten o’clock, the army was put in motion by a false alarm. Here General Wade resolved to return; and immediately began the march for York, by way of Piersebridge, Catterick, and Boroughbridge; and continuing his route Southward, encamped his men on Clifford Moor, where they halted a few days, and then moved to a ground between Ferrybridge and Knottingley. The rebels had now penetrated Southward as far as Derby; but the General having heard that they had received a check from the Duke of Cumberland,sent General Oglethorpe with a thousand horse towards Manchester, either to harrass the enemy in their retreat, or to join the Duke’s forces; and returned himself with the remainder, by Wakefield, Outwood, and Leeds, to Newcastle.
In the mean time the Duke came up with the rebels at Clifton, on the borders of Westmoreland, of which Lord George Murray, with the rear guard, had taken possession, whilst another party had fortified themselves behind three hedges and a ditch.
The Duke coming upon the open moor after sun-set, gave orders for three hundred dragoons to dismount, and advance to the brink of the ditch; when the rebels fired upon them from behind the hedges, which they returned, and fell a few paces back: the rebels mistaking this for flight, rushed over the ditch, but meeting a warmer reception than they expected, were glad to retreat, and continued their route to Penrith.
The Duke’s army was not able to follow, owing to the badness of the roads, and thefatigue of a tedious march; but the next morning he pursued them to Penrith; and from thence to Carlisle, where they left part of their army.
His Royal Highness thought it advisable to reduce this place, and accordingly sent for heavy artillery from Whitehaven, which arriving on the 25th of December, the garrison surrendered on the 30th, and his Royal Highness returned to London. General Wade continued his march for the North, dismissing all the foreigners from his army; and General Hawley on coming from London to take the command, was joined by some regiments which had been withdrawn from Flanders. They marched to Edinburgh; from thence to Falkirk, and pitched their tents on the North-East side of the town, on the 16th of January.
The Highland army being at Torwood, about mid-way between Falkirk and Stirling, and distant from the English camp only about three miles, they could easily discover each other’s camp-lights. The English army layall night on their arms, in expectation of being attacked; but the van and picquet guards came in on the morning of the 17th, having observed no motions in the rebel camp which shewed any signs of an attack, although they were as near them as safety would permit. Soon after, the enemy were observed to move some of their colours from Torwood, towards Stirling, which made the English suppose that they were retreating; but this motion was a feint to deceive them. However, upon this appearance, the soldiers were ordered to pile their arms, and take some refreshment; and although Lord Kilmarnock was in the rebel army, General Hawley went to breakfast with Lady Kilmarnock, at Callendar House. The enemy, in the mean time, stole a march down a valley Northward, unperceived; but just before the army discovered them, they were seen by a person who ran into the camp, exclaiming, “Gentlemen! what are you about? the Highlanders will be upon you:” on which some of the officers said, “Seize that rascal,he is spreading a false alarm.”—“Will you, then, believe your own eyes?” replied the man; when instantly the truth of his assertion became apparent, by their advancing to the highest ground upon Falkirk moor, the wind blowing strongly in the faces of the English, with a severe rain. At this moment several had left the field as well as the General; but the drums beat to arms, which caused those who were absent to repair instantly to the camp, and the lines were immediately formed.
Captain Thornton’s company was embodied with the matrosses, who were thought too weak; and this was a great disappointment to him, whose intention was to be in the front, whenever an engagement should take place. Metcalf played before them to the field; but the flag cannon sinking in a bog, Captain Thornton exclaimed, “D—n this accident; we shall see no sport to-day:” and leaving his troop to assist the matrosses in bringing up the cannon to their station, he rode up opposite to the horse which weregoing to engage. The regiments of Hamilton and Gardner were put in the front; and the Highlanders, after firing their pieces, threw them down, and discharged their pistols in the horses’ faces, which caused them to retreat, much confused: and on the Duke of Perth exclaiming aloud, “Although the horse have given way, yet the work is not accomplished,” the enemy pursued with their broad swords, cutting down the men as they fled; and the horses did great mischief, by breaking through their own foot, the men crying out at the same time, “Dear brethren, we shall all be massacred this day!” On their passing the artillery, the Captain of the matrosses seeing their perilous situation, gave orders for all the train horses to be cut from the cannon. General Huske at this time came up with three regiments, and engaged the left wing of the Highlanders, ordering the rear and centre to keep firing, and the front to reserve. The rebels, as was their custom, after the discharge of their pieces, flung them away, and advanced with theirbroad swords close up to the first line; when the front instantly fired, and being so near, did more than double execution; which caused them to retreat, leaving a great number dead upon the spot.
The General observing a vast body of the rebels on the right, drew up his men nearer Falkirk, and gave orders to keep the town until morning: however, on examining the powder, they had the mortification to find that the heavy rains had damaged it to such a degree, that but few pieces could be fired; and the village being open on all sides, was a circumstance so favourable to the enemy, as induced that General to form the resolution of quitting the town with all expedition, and march to Linlithgow, where there was more shelter under the walls, in case of an attack.—This measure was fully justified by the event; for the enemy pursued so closely, that many were taken by surprise, as, in consequence of the order to keep the town all night, several had gone into the houses to put off their wet cloathes; and those whowere apprised of the retreat had no sooner left the place, than the rebels took possession, and made a great many prisoners, amongst whom were twenty of Captain Thornton’s men, with the Lieutenant and Ensign.
Mr. Crofts, the Lieutenant, having eighty guineas in his pocket, begged to make Lord George Murray his treasurer; which office his Lordship accepted, and had afterwards thegenerosityto return him SIX!
Captain Thornton, also, was in one of the houses, for the purpose before-mentioned, but had not time sufficient to effect his escape; and being alarmed by the bagpipes at the door, he retreated up stairs: in a few minutes several of the rebels rushed up, in search of the fugitives; when one of them came to the very room door behind which he had taken refuge, and overlooking him, said, “There are none of the rascals here.” The woman of the house having seen the Captain go up stairs, went to him soon after, and opening a closet door, entreated him to enter, which he did.—She then broughta dresser, and placed dishes, &c. upon it, which prevented all appearance of a door in that place; and fortunately there was no bed in the room. About ten minutes after he had been fixed in his new quarters, a great number of people, consisting chiefly of Highland officers, amongst whom was Secretary Murray, took possession of the apartment, which being large, they proposed making use of for business during their stay.
We will there leave Captain Thornton, and return to Metcalf, who with the matrosses was retiring from the field of battle.
Knowing that two of his master’s horses had been left at a widow’s house a short distance from the town, he made his way to the place, with intent to secure them. This woman had in the morning expressed great seeming loyalty to King George; but when Metcalf returned in the evening, the wind had changed:—She now extolled prince Charles, and said the defeat ofGeorge’s folkwas a just judgment.
Metcalf went into the stable and found the horses, saddled them, and was leading out the first, when he was surrounded by a few stragglers of the Highland army: “We musthave that beast,” said they; but Metcalf refusing to give him up, they said to one another, “Shoot him.” On hearing two of them cock their pieces, he asked, “What do you want with him?” They answered, that they wanted him for their Prince: “If so, you must have him,” replied he. They took him, and immediately went off. Metcalf then brought out the other; but as he was about to mount, the Captain’s coachman (whose name was Snowden) joined him, and Metcalf inquiring of him the fate of his master, was answered, that he had not seen him since he left the artillery, when he rode up with the horse which were going to engage: this induced them to think that the worst had befallen him. They then thought it advisable to attempt falling in with the rear of the army, and endeavoured to slant the ground for that purpose; but before theyhad proceeded many yards, their horse sunk up to the saddle-skirts in a bog: however, being strong and plunging out, they mounted again, and soon joined it as they wished; where on making diligent inquiry after their Captain, they were told that he was left behind; on which Snowden returned as far as he could with safety, but without gaining any intelligence, and Metcalf walked on with the army.
They arrived at Linlithgow, where they halted; and the next day they marched to Edinburgh. There the mob, and lower orders of people, were very free in their expressions, and some of the higher also spoke very warmly, in favour of Prince Charles; making it appear clearly,by their own account, that nothing could prevent his coming to the Crown.
The next morning as many of Captain Thornton’s men as had escaped being taken prisoners, (about forty-eight in number,) assembled; and none of them being quite certain of having seen the Captain since heleft them with the cannon in the bog, they supposed him to have shared the fate of many other brave men who had fallen in the action of that day, and which they all sincerely lamented—not only on account of the favours he had individually conferred on them, but for the great and liberal example which he had invariably shewn to his brother officers, in the care and attention which he paid to his men in general; the natural consequence of which was, that he possessed the love and confidence of the soldiery. The disappearance, also, of the two other officers, and twenty of their men, greatly dispirited them; and, together with the suspension from their regular pay, induced some of them to apply to Metcalf for a supply, in order to carry them home; but he laudably refused any aid he might have afforded them, on being informed of the purpose for which it was required.
The army being fixed at Edinburgh, the head-quarters were at the Abbey. The superior officers sent for Metcalf, thinking ita singular circumstance that a person deprived of sight should enter into the army; and knowing that his master was missing, they desired to converse with him. One of the officers belonging to the dragoons who retreated from Falkirk speaking ironically of Thornton’s men, asked Jack howhegot off the field of battle.—Metcalf answered, “I found it very easy to follow by the sound of the dragoon horses, they made such aclatterover the stones.” This reply made the gentlemen turn the laugh against him. Colonel Cockayne likewise asked how he durst venture into the service, blind as he was; to which he replied, “that had he possessed a pair of good eyes, he would never have come there to have risked the loss of them by gunpowder.” Then making his obeisance, he withdrew: For Metcalf, though he had notread books, had readmen; and received his knowledge from the school of the world.
He now determined upon a journey to Falkirk, in search of his Captain; but this being attended with difficulty, he applied to aKnaresborough man who lived at Edinburgh and was of the rebel party, telling him that he wished to be a musician to Prince Charles, as he found it was all over with the English. The man informed him that they had a spy, an Irishman, going to the Prince; on which Metcalf set forward with him, and he promised to recommend him on their arrival at Falkirk; but on coming up to the English out-sentries, they were stopped:—Metcalf inquired for the Captain, and informed him of the real cause of his journey: by him he was kindly advised to lay aside his project, and told that he would lose his life; but still persisting, he proceeded with the spy, and arrived at Linlithgow, where they stayed all night. They met with several women who had been upon plunder, and were then on their return to Edinburgh; and the spy instructed them how to avoid the English sentries. Metcalf was very careful to examine the cloathes they had got, thinking that by chance he might meet with some of his Captain’s, ignorant as he was of his fate.One of the women sent a token by Metcalf to her husband, who was Lord George Murray’s cook: this woman’s guide was a horse-dealer, who soon became acquainted with Metcalf, having frequented the fairs in Yorkshire; and at this time by some means had got introduced to the heads of both armies, and obtained a protection from each to press horses occasionally.—This man’s fate was remarkable; for going into Stirling, where the King’s army lay, he found that orders were given to let no strangers pass without an examination, which he underwent, and said that he had a protection from General Huske: being ordered to produce it, he had the misfortune to take that out of his pocket which he had got from the Pretender; and when informed of his mistake, instantly produced the other—but too late; for he was tied up by the neck to a lamp-iron, without giving him time to put off his boots.
A short time before Metcalf and the spy left the ’Change-house at Linlithgow, some of the van guard of the rebels came in, andcalled for whiskey; and it was supposed that they dropped there a silver-mounted pistol, which, on their setting out, the spy picked up, and offered to Metcalf; but he refused it, saying, he thought it not proper to have fire-arms about him, as he expected to be searched: so they pursued their journey and presently fell in with the rebels out-guard, several of whom, accosted Metcalf, and as all seemed well, they were allowed to pass, and arrived at Falkirk, where he inquired for Lord George Murray’s cook, to deliver his present, and was afterwards introduced to and conversed with his Lordship, Secretary Murray, and other gentlemen. Lord George gave him part of a glass of wine, an article at that time of great value; for as the rebels had been there three times, and the English twice, they had almostswept the cupboard clean of its crumbs.
Whilst conversing with them, he was very circumspect, knowing that his life was in danger, if the real purpose of his journey should be discovered.
He then made his way towards the market-place, where a number of Highlanders were assembled.—This was on Wednesday the 22d; but it happened that his master had left the place that morning, about four hours before his arrival.
We will now return to Captain Thornton, whom we left on Friday in the closet, in close neighbourhood with the Highland Chiefs, who every day transacted business in the room. The Quarter-Masters of the rebel army having taken the house, had given the woman to whom it belonged a small apartment backward; but every night she took care to carry him such provisions as she could convey through a crevice at the bottom of the door; and this mode she used for fear of alarming these who slept in the adjoining rooms. The closet was only a yard and a half square; and the Captain’s cloathes being wet when he entered, made his situation the more uncomfortable, as he had got a severe cold, and sometimes could not forbear coughing, even when the rebels were in their room. Oncein particular, hearing a cough, they said one to another “what is that?” but one of them answered, that it was somebody in another room;—not in the least suspecting a door in the place where the closet was.
On Monday night the woman of the house went to the door to carry provisions as usual, when the Captain said to her, “I am determined to come out, let the consequence be what it may; for I will not die like a dog in this hole;” but she begged that he would bear his confinement till the next night, and she would adopt some plan to effect his escape. She accordingly consulted an old carpenter, who was true to the Royal cause, and he came the next night, removed the dresser, and liberated the Captain. They proceeded down stairs in the dark, to the woman’s apartment, where she made tea, whilst the carpenter concerted their plan of operation. They dressed him in a pladdie and brogues, with a black wig, and the carpenter packed him up a bag of tools, as if he was going with his master to work as soon as it waslight. The Captain had only ten guineas about him, (having lost his cash with his Lieutenant, Mr. Crofts) eight of which he gave to the woman who had so faithfully preserved him, and two to the carpenter, who, to secrete them, put them into his mouth along with his tobacco, fearful of a search by the Highlanders, who would have suspected him had they found more than a shilling. Every thing being ready, they set out, the Captain with his bag of tools following his supposed master. On coming into the croud, he looked about, and was rather behind; and although in disguise, did not look like a common workman which making the old man dread a discovery, he called out to him, “Come alang, ye filthy loon: ye have had half a bannock and a mutchkin of drink in your wame—we shall be too late for our day’s wark.” Whether this artifice served him or not, is uncertain; but they got safe through the throng, and, leaving the high-road, pursued their journey across the country. Having come to a risingground, the Captain took a view of Falkirk moor, and said, “Yonder’s the place where such a sad piece of work was made of it on Friday last.” The old man at the same time looking the other way, saw two or three hundred Highlanders, who had been on plunder, coming down a lane which led from Callendar-House (Lord Kilmarnock’s seat) into the main road; and being desirous of passing the end of this lane before they came up, in order to avoid them, said, “We shall have a worse piece of work of it than we had on Friday, if you do not hasten your pace;” and begged the Captain to come forward, which he did; but walking briskly up a hill, he suddenly stopped, and said, “I am sick:” however they gained their point, and passed the Highlanders; for had they come up with them, the least injury would have been a march back to Falkirk, as prisoners. On going two miles farther, they arrived at a house belonging to a friend of the carpenter’s, and which had been plundered: there the old man got an egg, but not being able tofind a pan to boil it, he roasted it in peat-ashes, and gave it to the Captain, to put in hiswame, for so he called his stomach. Proceeding a few miles farther, they arrived at another house, where they procured a horse for the Captain.—He arrived at the English out-posts, and making himself known was permitted to pass, and reached Edinburgh in safety.
With respect to Metcalf, whom we left at Falkirk, as his dress was a plaid waistcoat laced with gold, which he had borrowed of a friend at Edinburgh, together with a blue regimental coat faced with buff, he told the Highlanders, in answer to their inquiries, that he had been fiddling for the English officers, and that they had given him that coat, which had belonged to a man who was killed; and also that his intention was to serve in the same capacity with Prince Charles.—But a person coming up who had seen Jack at Harrogate, said, “That fellow ought to be taken up, for he has something more than common in his proceedings;” onwhich Metcalf was taken to the guard-room, and searched for letters, but none were found, having only a pack of cards in his pocket, which they split, to see whether they contained any writing in the folds, but finding none, he was put into a loft in the roof of the building, (where the snow came in very much) along with a dragoon, and some other prisoners, where for three days they were suffered to remain in confinement.
In a short time Metcalf and his fellow-prisoners were tried by a court-martial, at which he was acquitted, and had permission given to go to the Prince; but wanting to borrow a clean shirt, they asked him where his own were; he said, at Linlithgow, but that he durst not go there, on account ofGeorge’s devils. They told him that he might safely go with the Irishman he came with. He knew that his companion had letters for the Highlanders’ friends at Edinburgh, but had no intention to pass the English sentries. Metcalf amused him with assurances that he had ten pounds at Edinburgh,for which he should have no occasion if he joined the Prince, and that he might have the greatest part of it: the spy, on this, became extremely desirous of his company to Edinburgh, wishing to finger the money, and proposed going across the country; but Metcalf said thathecould pass the English sentries, by saying that he was going to Captain Thornton. They then proceeded, and after going two miles, they met an officer, who was reconnoitring, and he knowing Metcalf, told him that his master was arrived at Edinburgh, which news was highly pleasing to him. On leaving the officer, the spy accosted him with “So, what youaregoing to him.”—“No,” said Metcalf, “nor to any such fellows.” They then passed the sentry, as Metcalf proposed, and arrived at Edinburgh, where they parted, but promised to meet the next evening at nine o’clock. Jack went directly to his Captain, who rejoiced at so unexpected a meeting. Metcalf told him that he had given him a great deal of trouble; adding, that he thought peoplemight come home from market without fetching.—The Captain smiled, and said, “What is to be done, for I have neither money or cloathes, having left all behind at Falkirk; but I have bills upon the road to the amount of three hundred pounds?” This proved fortunate; for had they been a few days sooner, they might by chance have been lost also;—but the reason of this delay was, that all letters, directed to Scotland, were at this time sent to London, to be examined at the General Post-Office. Metcalf told the Captain that he could get him some money, which the other thought impossible: however he went to a known friend, and obtained thirty pounds.—Taylors were instantly set to work, and next morning the Captain was enabled to visit his brother officers at the Abbey.
The army still quartered at Edinburgh, while part of the rebels were in Falkirk, and another part at Stirling, where they raised several batteries, and besieged Stirling Castle. The governor, General Blakeney, made littleopposition; and a shot from the batteries killing two or three men, some of the officers were greatly enraged, and threatened to confine the Governor: But a little time shewed that he was right in his conduct; for letting the rebels come pretty near the walls, on a sudden he began so hot a fire, as to kill several of their men, demolishing their batteries, and dismounting their guns, which made them glad to retreat, and raise the siege: and the General having destroyed the bridge, they were obliged to make a circuitous march before they were able to ford the river.
The Duke of Cumberland arrived at Edinburgh on the 30th of January, 1746; and two days afterwards marched out at the head of the army, towards Falkirk, the rebels leaving it a little time before. Captain Thornton visited the Duke often: his Royal Highness took notice of Metcalf, and spoke to him several times on the march, observing how well by the sound of the drum he was able to keep his pace. On the army’s arrivalat Linlithgow, intelligence was received that the rebels were on their march to give them battle; upon which the army was drawn up in order, and the Duke rode through the lines, and addressed the men as follows: “If there be any who think themselves in a bad cause, or are afraid to engage, thinking they may might against any of their relations, let them now turn out, receive pardon, and go about their business, without any farther question.”—On this, the whole army gave three huzzas. But the intelligence proving false, they proceeded to Falkirk, and continued their route through Stirling, Perth, Montrose, Briffin, and Stonehive, to Aberdeen, where they halted. The rebel army lay now at Strathbogie.
At Aberdeen the Duke gave a ball to the ladies, and personally solicited Captain Thornton for his fidler, there being at that time no music in the army except Colonel Howard’s, (the Old Buffs) and which being wind music were unaccustomed to country dances. As the rebel army was only twenty miles distant,no invitations were sent till five o’clock, tho’ the ball was to begin at six. Twenty-five couples danced for eight hours, and his Royal Highness made one of the set, and several times, as he passed Metcalf, who stood on a chair to play, shouted “Thornton, play up:” but Jack needed no exhortation, for he was very well practised, and better inclined.
Next morning the Duke sent him two guineas; but as he was not permitted to take money, he informed his Captain, who said, that as it was the Duke’s money, he might take it; but observed, that he should give his Royal Highness’s servants a treat. He had only three servants with him, (viz. his gentleman, cook, and groom.) So the next night two of them paid Metcalf a visit, and a merry party they made, the Captain ordering them great plenty of liquor.
In a little time they proceeded on their march, and engaged the rebels on Culloden moor, giving them a total defeat, although they had targets to ward off the bayonet, whilst they cut away with their broad swords,yet the Duke found a method of frustrating their plan, by pushing the bayonet over the right arm, which rendered their targets of no use. Kingston’s Light Horse pursued them in their disorder and flight, and made a great slaughter amongst them.
The English prisoners were now all liberated.—Two or three of Captain Thornton’s men had died in prison; and the rest returned home.
The rebellion being completely suppressed, Captain Thornton returned home also, accompanied by Metcalf, of whose family it is full time to take some notice.—He had the happiness to find his faithful partner and children in good health; and although the former confessed that she had entertained many fears for her poor blind adventurer, yet knowing that a spirit of enterprize made a part of his nature, she was often comforted by the hope, that he would, in some degree, signalize himself, notwithstanding the misfortune under which he laboured.—This declaration, following a most cordial reception,gave full confirmation to an opinion which Metcalf had ever held, viz. that the caresses and approbation of the softer sex, are the highest reward a soldier can deserve or obtain.
The notice with which the Duke of Cumberland had honoured Metcalf, gave him much reason to believe, that, had he followed him to London, he would have received more marks of his Royal favour.—But Metcalf was deficient to himself in this instance; neglecting to solicit further notice till it was judged too late to make application.
About a year after their return, a vacancy happening in the representation for the city of York, the citizens sent for Mr. Thornton, and unanimously elected him, free of all expence.
A short time after this, the militia was raised, and he was, as his merit well entitled him to be, appointed Colonel of the West-York battalion; which situation he held, with advantage to the service, and honour to himself, for the remainder of his life.
Blind Jack being now at liberty to choose his occupation, attended Harrogate as usual; but having, in the course of his Scotch expedition, become acquainted with the various articles manufactured in that country, and judging that some of those might answer for him to traffic with in England, he repaired, in the spring, to Scotland, and supplied himself with various articles in the cotton and worsted way, particularly Aberdeen stockings. For all those articles he found a ready sale at the houses of gentlemen in the extensive County of York; and being personally known to most of the families, was ever very kindly received. He never was at a loss to know, amongst a thousand articles, what each had cost him, from a particular mode of marking.
It was also customary with him to buy horses, for sale in Scotland, bringing back galloways in return; and in this traffic he depended on feeling the animals, to direct his choice.
He also engaged pretty deeply in the contraband trade, the profits of which were at that time much more considerable than the risk.
One time in particular, having received a pressing letter from Newcastle-upon-Tyne, requiring his speedy attendance, he set out on horseback from Knaresborough at three in the morning, and got into Newcastle in the evening about six o’clock, the distance nearly seventy-four miles, and did not feel the least fatigued.
Having received some packages, he employed a few soldiers to convey them to a carrier, judging that men of their description were least liable to suspicion. After sending off his goods, he stayed two nights with some relations he had there, and then set off for home. He had with him about an hundred weight of tea, cased over with tow, and tightly corded up; this he put into a wallet, which he laid across his saddle.
Coming to Chester-le-Street, (about half-way between Newcastle and Durham) hemet at the inn an exciseman, who knew him as soon as he had dismounted, and asked him what he had got there. Metcalf answered, “It is some tow and line for my aunt, who lives a few miles distant;—I wish she was far enough for giving me the trouble to fetch it.” The officer asking him to bring it in, he replied, “For the time I shall stay it may as well remain on the horsing-stone.” By this seeming indifference about his package, he removed suspicion from the mind of the exciseman, who assisted in re-placing it across the saddle; when he pursued his journey, and got home in safety.
Once having disposed of a string of horses, he bought, with the produce, a quantity of rum, brandy, and tea, to the amount of 200l., put them on board a vessel for Leith, and travelled over-land, on foot, to meet the vessel there. He had about thirty miles to walk, and carried near five stone weight of goods which he did not choose to put on shipboard. At Leith he had the mortification to wait six weeks, without receiving anytidings of the vessel, which many supposed to have been lost, there having been a storm in the interval. The distress of mind resulting from this, induced him once to say, “If she is lost, I wish I had been in her; for she had all my property on board.” Soon after, however, the ship got into Leith harbour. He there went on board, and set sail for Newcastle; but another storm arising, the mate was washed overboard, the mainsail carried away, and the ship driven near the coast of Norway. Despair now became general; the prospect of going to the bottom seeming almost certain. He now reflected on the impiety of his wish respecting the former storm; and so effectually was his way of thinking changed, that had he had all the current coin of the universe, he would have given it to have been on shore. It now appeared to him a dreadful thing to leave the world in the midst of health and vigour; but the wind changing, hope began to return, and the Captain put about for the Scotch coast, intending to make Arbrothie. A signalof distress was put up, but the sea ran so high, that no boat could venture out with a pilot. He then stood in for the harbour, but struck against the pier end, owing to the unmanageable state of the vessel, from the loss of her mainsail: she narrowly escaped being bulged; but having got to the back of the pier, was towed round into the harbour, with near five feet water in her hold. Her escape from the merciless elements, however, did not seem to terminate her dangers, the country people shewing a disposition to seize her as a wreck, and plunder her; but fortunately there was at hand a party, consisting of an officer and twenty men, of Pulteney’s regiment, who had been in pursuit of some smugglers; and Metcalf knowing them well, (Colonel Thornton’s company being attached to that regiment) the officer sent three files of men to protect the vessel, while the crew were removing the goods to a warehouse.
As this vessel stood in need of repairs, Metcalf put his goods on board another,and in her got to Newcastle. There he met with an acquaintance; and from the seeming cordiality at the meeting, he thought he might have trusted his life in the hands of this man. With this impression, Metcalf opened to him the state of his affairs; informing him that he had got four hundred gallons of gin and brandy, for which he had a permit, and about thirty gallons for which he had none, and which he wanted to land; telling him, at the same time, of the harrassing voyage he had just finished: But, it seems, his misfortunes were only about to commence; for, in a quarter of an hour, he found that the man whom he had taken for a friend had gone down to the quay side, and, giving information of what he knew, had all the goods seized, and brought on shore. Metcalf imagined that none were seizable but the small part for which he had not obtained a permit; but was soon undeceived, the whole being liable to seizure, as not agreeing with the specified quantity.
He then repaired to the Custom-House, and applied to Mr. Sunderland, the Collector. This gentleman knew Metcalf, (being in the habit of visiting Harrogate) and received him very kindly; but informed him, with much concern, that it was not in his power to serve him, the captors being the excise people, and not of his department.—He, however, suggested, that some good might result from an application to Alderman Peireth, with whom Metcalf was acquainted, and who was particularly intimate with the Collector of the Excise. The good Alderman gave him a letter to the Collector; representing, as instructed by Metcalf, that the bearer had bought four hundred gallons of spirits, at the Custom-House at Aberdeen; and that the extra quantity was for the purpose of treating the sailors and other friends, as well as for sea-stock for himself. At first the Collector told him that nothing could be done for him, until he should write up to the Board, and receive an answer; but Metcalf remonstrating on the inconvenience of thedelay, and the other re-considering the letter, he agreed to come down to the quay at four o’clock in the afternoon, which he accordingly did, and released every thing without expence.
A short time after the regiment called the Queen’s Bays were raised, they were quartered at Knaresborough and the adjacent towns; but, after a short stay, they were ordered to the North. The country people seemed extremely unwilling to supply carriages for conveying the baggage; the King’s allowance being but nine-pence a mile, per ton; that of the County, one shilling in the West Riding, and fifteen-pence, in the North Riding. Metcalf having two waggons, (one of them covered) had a mind to try this new business; and, to make sure of the job, got the soldiers topresshis two carriages, which were accordingly loaded, himself attending them to Durham. Previous to loading, however, the country people, who knew the advantage of carrying for the army, and who had kept back, in hopes of an advance in theprice, came forward with their waggons, in opposition to Metcalf; but the soldiers would employ no other.
Arriving at Durham, he met Bland’s Dragoons, on their march from the North to York: they loaded his waggons again for Northallerton, and would willingly have engaged them to York; but this he was obliged to decline, having promised to bring twenty-three wool-packs to Knaresborough. He was just six days in performing this journey; and cleared, with eight horses and the one he rode, no less a sum than twenty pounds; though many people were afraid to travel with soldiers.
Some time after the Queen’s regiment had got to Durham, it received the usual annual recruit of four horses to a troop. The regiment having been so lately raised, had no old horses: nevertheless, four were to be sold from each. Metcalf had notice sent him of the sale, but did not receive the letter until the day before it commenced.—He set off, however, that afternoon, for Durham, and riding all night, got there by day-break.
His first business was to become acquainted with the farriers; so getting about half-a-dozen of them together, and plying them heartily with gin, he began to question them as to the horses which were to be sold.
Amongst the number to be disposed of, was a grey one, belonging to one of the drums. The man who had the charge of him not having been sufficiently careful in trimming him, had burnt him severely, which caused a prodigious swelling. Had this careless conduct been known to his superiors, he would have been punished for it: upon that account the matter was hushed up. Metcalf, however, being apprized of the real cause, in the course of his conversation with the farriers, determined to purchase him, judging that they would be desirous to part with him at any price; and in this conjecture he was not mistaken.
The sale began by bringing out seven bay horses; six of which a gentleman bought for a carriage, and Metcalf purchased the seventh.
They then brought forward the grey horse with his swelled sheath, which excited many jokes and much laughter among the spectators.—Our chapman bought him also, at the very low price of 3l.15s.0d.which was first affixed by the auctioneer, but which, however, the people said was very much beyond his value.
Having used such applications as he thought efficacious for his recovery, by the time he had got him home he had the satisfaction to find him perfectly sound; and within a week afterwards refused fifteen guineas for him.—He kept him many years as a draught-horse; and the other horse also was sold to a profit, by which he thought himself very well paid for his journey to Durham.
In the year 1751 Metcalf commenced a new employ:—He set up a stage-waggon between York and Knaresborough, being the first on that road, and conducted it constantly himself, twice a week in the summer season, and once in winter; and this business,together with the occasional conveyance of army baggage, employed his attention until the period of his first contracting for the making of roads, which suiting him better, he disposed of his draught, and interest in the road, to one Guiseley.
An act of Parliament having been obtained to make a turnpike-road from Harrogate to Boroughbridge, a person of the name of Ostler, of Farnham, was appointed surveyor; and Metcalf falling into company with him, agreed to make about three miles of it, viz. between Minskip and Fearnsby.—The materials were to be procured from one gravel pit for the whole length: he therefore provided deal boards, and erected a temporary house at the pit, took a dozen horses to the place, fixed racks and mangers; and hired a house for his men at Minskip, which was distant about three-quarters of a mile. He often walked from Knaresborough in the morning, with four or five stone of meat on his shoulders, and joined his men by six o’clock: and by the means he used, he completedthe work much sooner than was expected, to the entire satisfaction of the surveyor and trustees.
During his leisure hours he studied measurement in a way of his own; and when certain of the girt and length of any piece of timber, he was able to reduce its true contents to feet and inches; and would bring the dimensions of any building into yards or feet.
Near the time of his finishing this road, the building of a bridge was advertised to be contracted for, at Boroughbridge; and a number of gentlemen met for that purpose at the Crown inn there. Metcalf, amongst others, went also. The masons varied considerably in their estimates. Ostler, the surveyor of the roads, was appointed to survey the bridge; and Metcalf told him that he wished to undertake it, though he had never done any thing of the kind before. On this, the surveyor acquainted the gentlemen with what Metcalf had proposed; when he was sent for, and asked what he knewabout a bridge: he told them, that he could readily describe it, if they would take the trouble of writing down his plan, which was as follows: “The span of the arch, 18 feet, being a semi-circle, makes 27: the arch-stones must be a foot deep, which if multiplied by 27, will be 486; and the bases will be 72 feet more.—This for the arch: it will require good backing; for which purpose there are proper stones in the old Roman wall at Aldborough, which may be brought, if you please to give directions to that effect.” The gentlemen were surprised at his readiness, and agreed with him for building the bridge. The persons who had given in their estimates, were much offended; and as the stone was to be procured from Renton, a sale-quarry belonging to one of the masons who were there, he was unwilling to sell any to Metcalf; upon which he went to Farnham, and found good stones, which the lime-burners had left, (being too strong for their purpose,) got them dressed at the place for little money, conveyed them to Boroughbridge,and having men to take them off the carriages, set them, and completed the arch in one day; and finished the whole in a very short period.
Soon after, there was a mile and an half of turnpike-road to be made between Knaresborough-Bridge and Harrogate, which Metcalf also agreed for. Going one day over a place covered with grass, he told his men that he thought it different from the ground adjoining, and would have them try for stone or gravel, which they immediately did, and found an old causeway, supposed to have been made in the time of the Romans, which afforded many materials proper for the purpose of making the road. Between the Forest-Lane head and Knaresborough-Bridge, there was a bog, in a low piece of ground, over which to have passed was the nearest way; and the surveyor thought it impossible to make a road over it: but Metcalf assured him that he could readily accomplish it.—The other then told him, that if so, he should be paid for the same length as if he had goneround. Jack set about it, cast the road up, and covered it with whin, and ling; and made it as good, or better, than any part he had undertaken. He received about four hundred pounds for the road and a small bridge which he had built over a brook called Stanbeck.