The Life of WiUiam IJutton, of Birmingham* 



631 



1 rose at four, July 18, starved, sore, 

 and stiff; deposited my bags under the 

 fourth tree, covering tliem with leaves, 

 while I waited upon Warburgh's bridge 

 for my brotiier Samuel, who I knew 

 ivould go to the silk-mil!s before five. 

 I told him that I had differed with my 

 HHcle, had left him, and intended to go 

 to Ireland; that he must remember me 

 to my father, whom I should probably 

 see no more. I had all the discourse to 

 myself, for ray brother did not utter one 

 word. 



I arrived at Burton the same morning, 

 having travelled twenty-eight miles, and 

 spent nothing. I was an economist from 

 my cradle, and the character never for- 

 sook me. To this I in some measure owe 

 my present situation. 



I ever had an inclination to examine 

 fresh places. Leaving my bags at a pub- 

 lic-house, I took a view of the town, and, 

 breaking into my first shilling, I spent 

 one penny as a recompence for the care 

 of them. 



Arriving the same evening within the 

 precincts of Lichfield, I approached a 

 barn, where I intended to lodge; but, 

 finding the door shut, I opened my par- 

 cels in the fields, dressed, hid my bags 

 near a hedge, and took a view of the city 

 for about two hours, though very sore- 

 footed. 



Returning to the spot about nine, I 

 undressed, bagged up my things in de- 

 cent order, and prepared for rest; but, 

 alas ! I had a bed to seek. About a 

 stone's cast from the place stood another 

 barn, which, perhaps, might furnish me 

 with a lodging. I thought it needless to 

 take the bags while I examined the 

 place, as my stay would be very short. 



The second barn yieldmg no relief, I 

 returned in about ten minutes. But 

 vrhat was my surprise when I perceived 

 the bags were gone ! Terror seized me. 

 I roared after the rascal, but might as 

 well have been silent, for thieves seldom 

 come at a call. Running, raving, and 

 lamenting about the fields and roads, 

 employed some time. I was too much 

 immersed in distress to find relief in 

 tears. They refused to flow. I de- 

 scribed the bags, and told the affair to 

 all I met. I found pity, or seeming pity, 

 from all, but redress from none. I saw 

 my hearers dwindle with the twilight : 

 and, by eleven o'clock, found mjst'lf in 

 the open strett, left to tell my mournful 

 tale to the silent night. 



It is not easy to place a human being 

 in a more distressed situation. JVly 

 fiiiaiiceii were nothing ; a stranger to the 



world, and the world to me; no employ, 

 nor likely to procure any; no food to 

 eat, or place to rest: all the little pro- 

 perty I had upon earth taken from me: 

 nay, even hope, that last and constant 

 friend of the unfortunate, forsook me, 

 I was in a more wretclied condition than 

 he who has nothing to lose. An eye 

 may roll over these lines when the hand 

 that writes them shall be still. Maj;|, 

 that eye move without a tear! I sought',' 

 repose in the street, upon a butcheiTs ' 

 block. 



July 14, 1 inquiied, early in the morn- 

 ing, after my property, but to as little 

 purpose as the night before. Among 

 others, I accosted a gentleman in a 

 wrought night.cap, plaid gown, and mo- 

 rocco slippers. I told him my distress, 

 and begged lie would point out some 

 mode of employ, that might enable me 

 to exist. He was touched with compas- 

 sion. I found it was easy to penetrate 

 his heart, but not his pocket. " It is 

 market-day at Walsall," said lie, " yon- 

 der people are going there; your attend- 

 ance upon them may be successful." I 

 instantly put his advice in practice, anti 

 found myself in the company of a man 

 and his servant with a waggon-load of 

 carrots; and, also, of an old fellow aud 

 his grandson with a horse-load of cher- 

 ries. We continued together to the end 

 of the journey; but I cannot say that 

 either pity or success was of our party. 



As my feet were not used to travel, 

 they became extremely blistered; \, 

 therefore, rubbed them with a little beef 

 fat, begged of a Walsall butcher, and 

 found instant relief. 



Upon application to a man who sold 

 stockings in the market, I coul<4 learn 

 that there were no frames in Walsall, 

 but many in Birmingham ; that he would 

 recommend me to an acquaintance; and, 

 if I should not succeed, there was Wor- 

 cester, a little to the right, had some 

 frames; and Coventry, a little to the 

 left, would bring me into the stocking 

 country. 



Addison says, "There is not a Womatt 

 in Kngiand ; tlntt every one of the British 

 fair has a rij;ht to the appellation of 

 Lady." I wondered, in my way from 

 Walsall to Birmingham, to see so many 

 blacksmiths' shops; in m'-iny of them 

 one, and sometimes two Ladies at work; 

 all with smutty laces, tluindeiing at the 



anvil. Struck with the novelty, I asked 

 if the lailu.'S in this country shod hor^es?' 

 but was answered, " Tliey are nailers." 



Upon llandwurth heath, 1 had a vievr 

 of Jiiriniiigham, St. Philip's Church ap- 

 peared 



