108 



WJiittington and His Cat 



of the Bow bells, and his memory has ever since been embalmed in 

 English story. 



This is the substance of the nursery tale — for I have taken the story- 

 teller's privilege of telling it in my own way — and I think it has usually 

 been considered as of the same class as Jack the Giant Killer, Jack 

 and the Beanstalk, Tom Hickathrift, and Puss in Boots — almost wholly 

 legendary, composed by nobody knows who, and descended to us? 

 nobody knows how. And yet, despite the legend related in it, it is a 

 veritable history of a model merchant of the Dark Ages; and how the 

 story has survived to the present day is perhaps the greatest mystery 

 connected with it. For Whittington was born only a century and a 

 half after the English nobles compelled King John to sign the declara- 

 tion of English liberty at Eunnymede. Eienzi, the last of the Roman 

 tribunes, resigned his power, and was sent into exile, less than twenty 

 years before Whittington's birth; Wat Tyler's insurrection was put 

 down by Sir William Walworth, who preceded Whittington as Lord 

 Mayor of London by less than twenty years ; and he had been dead 

 only about thirty years w^hen Faust and Schgeffer printed their first 

 book, and about seventy years when Columbus discovered America. 

 He lived and died in the Dark Ages; and the wonder is that his story 

 has come down to us at all ; for I venture to say that the only things 

 remembered about him are, that he was wealthy, that he was Lord 

 Mayor of London three times, and that he had a cat. But other men 

 in that time were as wealthy, though very few made so good use of 

 it; but notwithstanding their wealth, they are forgotten, and the good 

 use he made of his is scarcely remembered. Sir John Lofken, fish- 

 mong^er, was four times Lord Mayor, and Sir Nicholas Brember, grocer, 

 served for three successive terms, and had been Lord Mayor before the 

 three terms began, and all these four years were in Whittington's life- 

 time, and many others filled the office three times and more; yet their 

 names have not come down to us through five hundred years. I think 

 that but one answer can be given to our inquiry ; and that is a modern 

 answer, but it has come down to us through the centuries — it was the 

 cat." 



But whatever the reason was that caused this story to be remem- 

 bered, it difiers from the ordinary class of nursery tales, in this, that 

 there is more truth than fiction about it. No matter with what other 

 variations the story may be told, it is always sure to represent Whit- 

 tington as a poor little barefooted, bareheaded, half-clothed boy born of 

 poor parents, whose early death left the little fellow entirely alone. 

 With the exception of the early death of his parents, this statement is 



