The popular story of Whittington and his Cat is one in which a version of a wide-spread folk-tale has been grafted upon the history of the life of an historical character, and in the later versions the historical incidents have been more and more eliminated. The three chief points in the chap-book story are, 1, the poor parentage of the hero; 2, his change of mind at Highgate Hill by reason of hearing Bow Bells; and, 3, his good fortune arising from the sale of his cat. Now these are all equally untrue as referring to the historical Whittington, and the second is apparently an invention of the eighteenth century. When the Rev. Canon Lysons wrote his interesting and valuable work entitled The Model Merchant he showed the incorrectness of the first point by tracing out Whittington’s distinguished pedigree, but he was loath to dispute the other two. It is rather strange that neither Mr. Lysons nor Messrs. Besant and Rice appear to have seen the work which I now present to my readers, which is the earliest form of the life of Whittington known to exist. This is printed from the copy in the Pepysian Library, a later edition of which, with a few typographical alterations, will be found in the British Museum library. This History will be found to differ very considerably from the later and better-known story, which appears to have been written early in the eighteenth century. A comparison between the latter which I print at the end of this Preface (p. xxix.) with T. H.’s earlier text will not, I think, be found unprofitable. The Famous and Remarkable History here reprinted is undated, but was probably published about 1670; the later edition in the British Museum is dated 1678. One passage on page 7—“The merchant went then to the Exchange, which was then in Lumber-street, about his affairs”—seems to show that it was originally written quite early in the century, and it is just possible that T. H. stands for the voluminous playwright and pamphleteer Thomas Heywood. The Exchange was removed to its present site in 1568, and therefore our tract could not have been written before that date, but must have appeared when the memory of the old meeting-place was still fresh in public memory. On page 11 it will be seen that Whittington, when discontented with his position in Fitzwarren’s house, set out before day-break on All Hallows-day with his clothes in a bundle, in order to seek his fortune elsewhere. He had only got as far as Bunhill when he heard Bow bells ring out what appeared to be—

These words took complete possession of him, and he returned before it was known that he had run away. In the more modern chap-book Whittington is made to reach Holloway, where it would be less easy to hear Bow bells, and from which place he would have found it more difficult to return before the cook had risen. As far as I can find there is no allusion to Holloway or Highgate hill in any early version, and it is evident that this localization is quite modern. Mr. Lysons is certainly wrong when he says that at Highgate “a stone continued to mark the spot for many centuries.” It is not known when the stone was first erected there, but it was probably put up when the name of the place was first foisted into the tale. One stone was taken away in 1795, but others have succeeded it, and now there is a Whittington Stone Tavern; and the situation of Whittington College, which was removed to Highgate in 1808, has helped to favour the supposition that Whittington himself was in some way connected with that place.

The form of invitation which the bells rung out varies very much in the different versions.

In Richard Johnson’s ballad (1612) we find—

“Whittington, back return.”

which is then amplified into—

In T. H.’s History (see p. 11) we have—

“Turn again, Whittington, Lord Mayor of London.”

In the later chap-book version this is altered into—

It will be seen that the special reference to the fact that Whittington was three times Lord Mayor is not to be found in either the ballads or the chap-books.

In the Life, by the author of George Barnwell (1811), however we read—

And in The Life and Times of Whittington (1841)—

In the early version of the History by T. H. the fanciful portions are only allowed to occupy a small portion of the whole, and a long account is given of Whittington’s real actions, but, in the later chap-book versions, the historical incidents are ruthlessly cut down, and the fictitious ones amplified. This will be seen by comparing the two printed here. Thus T. H. merely says (p. 6) that Whittington was obscurely born, and that being almost starved in the country he came up to London. In the later chap-book the journey to London is more fully enlarged upon (p. xxxiii.), and among those at Whittington’s marriage with Alice Fitzwarren the name of the Company of Stationers not then in existence is foisted in (pp. xlii.) It does not appear in T. H.’s History.

In many other particulars the later chap-book which contains the story as known to modern readers is amplified, and thus shows signs of a very late origin.

With regard to the three fictitious points of Whittington’s history mentioned at the beginning of this preface, the first—his poor parentage—is disposed of by documentary evidence; the second—his sitting on a stone at Highgate hill—has been shown to be quite a modern invention; and the third—the story of the cat—has been told of so many other persons in different parts of the world that there is every reason to believe it to be a veritable folk-tale joined to the history of Whittington from some unexplained connection. None of the early historians who mention Whittington allude to the incident of the cat, and it is only to be found in popular literature, ballads, plays, &c. The story seems to have taken its rise in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. The reason why however the life of Whittington should have been chosen as the stock upon which this folk-tale should be grafted is still unexplained. Some have supposed that he obtained his money by the employment of “cats,” or vessels for the carriage of coals; but this suggestion does not appear to be worthy of much consideration.It is said that at Newgate, which owed much to Whittington, there was a statue of him with a cat, which was destroyed in the Great Fire; and in 1862, when some alterations were made in an old house at Gloucester, which had been occupied by the Whittington family until 1460, a stone was said to have been dug up on which was a basso-relievo representing the figure of a boy carrying a cat in his arms. This find, however, appears rather suspicious.

Keightley devotes a whole chapter of his Tales and Popular Fictions to the legend of Whittington and his Cat, in which he points out how many similar stories exist. The Facezie, of Arlotto, printed soon after the author’s death in 1483, contain a tale of a merchant of Genoa, entitled “Novella delle Gatte,” and probably from this the story came to England, although it is also found in a German chronicle of the thirteenth century. Sir William Ouseley, in his Travels, 1819, speaking of an island in the Persian Gulf, relates, on the authority of a Persian MS., that “in the tenth century, one Keis, the son of a poor widow in SirÁf, embarked for India with a cat, his only property. There he fortunately arrived at a time when the palace was so infested by mice or rats that they invaded the king’s food, and persons were employed to drive them from the royal banquet. Keis produced his cat; the noxious animals soon disappeared, and magnificent rewards were bestowed on the adventurer of SirÁf, who returned to that city, and afterwards, with his mother and brothers, settled on the island, which from him has been denominated Keis, or according to the Persians Keisch.” Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps quotes from the Description of Guinea (1665) the record of “how Alphonso, a Portuguese, being wrecked on the coast of Guinney, and being presented by the king thereof with his weight in gold for a cat to kill their mice; and an oyntment to kill their flies, which he improved within five years to 6000l. in the place, and, returning to Portugal after fifteen years traffick, became the third man in the kingdom.”[A] Keightley also quotes two similar stories from Thiele’s Danish Popular Traditions and another from the letters of Count Magalotti, a Florentine of the latter half of the seventeenth century.

Mr. Lysons gives much information as to the great value of cats in the Middle Ages, but the writer of the History of Whittington does not lead us to believe that they were dear in England, for he makes the boy buy his cat for one penny. The two following titles are from the Stationers’ Registers. The ballad is probably the one subsequently referred to as by Richard Johnson:—

“The History of Richard Whittington, of his lowe birthe, his great fortune, as yt was plaied by the Prynces Servants. Licensed to Thomas Pavyer, Feb. 8, 1604-5.”

“A Ballad, called The vertuous lyfe and memorable death of Sir Richard Whittington, mercer, sometymes Lord Maiour of the honorable Citie of London. Licensed to John Wright, 16 July, 1605.”

The first reference that we find to the cat incident is in the play Eastward Hoe by Chapman, Ben Jonson, and Marston; for, as the portrait which was said to have existed at Mercers’ Hall is not now known, it can scarcely be put in evidence. This half-length portrait of a man of about sixty years of age, dressed in a livery gown and black cap of the time of Henry VIII. with a figure of a black and white cat on the left, is said to have had painted in the left-hand upper corner of the canvas the inscription, “R. Whittington, 1536.”

In Eastward Hoe, 1605, Touchstone assures Goulding that he hopes to see him reckoned one of the worthies of the city of London “When the famous fable of Whittington and his puss shall be forgotten.”

The next allusion is in Thomas Heywood’s If you know not me, you know nobody, 2nd part, 1606.

Here it will be seen that, although the popular tale is mentioned, it is treated as a mere invention unworthy of credence.

The next in point of time is the ballad by Richard Johnson, published in the Crowne Garland of Goulden Roses (1612), which probably had a much earlier existence in a separate form. It is the earliest form of the story of Whittington now in existence.

(To the tune of “Dainty come thou to me.”)

This ballad, as it stands here with the exception of the last stanza, was reprinted in A Collection of Old Ballads, 1823, vol. i. p. 130.

This ballad is the original of all the later ballads, although the titles have been greatly varied. The Roxburghe ballad (vol. iii. p. 58) is dated in the British Museum Catalogue 1641[?]. Its full title is as follows:—

“London’s Glory and Whittington’s Renown, or a Looking Glass for Citizens of London, being a remarkable story how Sir Richard Whittington (a poor boy bred up in Lancashire) came to be three times Lord Mayor of London in three several kings’ reigns, and how his rise was by a cat, which he sent by a venture beyond sea. Together with his bountiful gifts and liberality given to this honourable City, and the vast sums of money he lent the King to maintain the wars in France; and how at a great Feast, to which he invited the King, the Queen, and the Nobility, he generously burnt the writings and freely forgave his Majesty the whole Debt. Tune of ‘Dainty, come thou to me.’ London: Printed for R. Burton, at the Horse Shoe in West Smithfield.”

The bulk of the ballad is the same as Richard Johnson’s, but the following first stanza is added, the original first stanza becoming the second:—

The second half of the original seventh stanza, and the eighth, ninth, and tenth stanzas, are left out.

Immediately before the last stanza the following one is introduced:—

The other alterations are not many, and chiefly consist in transpositions by which the rhymes are varied. This may be seen by comparing with the original the Roxburghe version of the last stanza which is as follows:—

At the end of one of the chap-books there is a version of the ballad in which Lancashire is replaced by Somersetshire.

In the same volume of the Roxburghe Ballads (p. 470) is a short version [1710?] containing a few only of the verses taken from the ballad. It is illustrated with some woodcuts from T. H.’s earlier History.

“An old Ballad of Whittington and his Cat, who from a poor boy came to be thrice Lord Mayor of London. Printed and sold in Aldermary Church Yard, London.”

There is a copy of this in the Chetham Library.

The following are some of the chief references to Whittington’s story in literature after the publication of Johnson’s ballad, arranged in chronological order:—

“I have heard of Whittington and his cat, and others, that have made fortunes by strange means.”—Parson’s Wedding (1664).

Pepys went on September 21, 1668, to Southwark Fair, “and there saw the puppet show of Whittington, which was pretty to see.” He adds in his Diary “how that idle thing do work upon people that see it, and even myself too.”

In the Tatler of September 13, 1709 (No. 67), is a list of great men to be entered in the Temple of Fame, and in the subsequent No. 78 is printed the following letter from a Citizen:—

“Mr. Isaac Bickerstaff, Sir, Your Tatler of September 13 I am now reading, and in your list of famous men desire you not to forget Alderman Whittington, who began the world with a cat, and died worth three hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling, which he left to an only daughter three years after his mayoralty. If you want any further particulars of ditto Alderman, daughter, or cat, let me know, and per first will advise the needful, which concludes, Your loving Friend, Lemuel Leger.”

“I am credibly informed that there was once a design of casting into an opera the story of Whittington and his Cat, and that in order to it there had been got together a great quantity of mice; but Mr. Rich, the proprietor of the playhouse, very prudently considered that it would be impossible for the cat to kill them all, and that consequently the princes of the stage might be as much infested with mice as the prince of the island was before the cat’s arrival upon it; for which reason he would not permit it to be acted in his house.”—Spectator (No. 5, March 6, 1711).

The Rev. Samuel Pegge brought the subject of Whittington and his Cat before a meeting of the Society of Antiquaries in 1771, but he could make nothing at all of the cat. There is no record of the inquiry in the Archaeologia, but it is mentioned in a letter from Gough to Tyson, 27 Dec. 1771 (Nichols’s Literary Anecdotes, vol. viii. p. 575). Horace Walpole was annoyed at the Society for criticising his “Richard III.” and in his Short Notes on his Life he wrote—“Foote having brought them on the stage for sitting in council, as they had done on Whittington and his Cat, I was not sorry to find them so ridiculous, or to mark their being so, and upon that nonsense, and the laughter that accompanied it, I struck my name out of their book.”

Foote brought out his comedy of The Nabob at the Haymarket Theatre in 1772. Sir Matthew Mite, the hero of the piece, is elected a member of the Society of Antiquaries, and delivers an address on Whittington and his Cat in which he gave the following solution of the difficulty:—“The commerce this worthy merchant carried on was chiefly confined to our coasts. For this purpose he constructed a vessel which for its agility and lightness he aptly christened a cat. Nay, to this our day, gentlemen, all our coals from Newcastle are imported in nothing but cats. From thence it appears that it was not the whiskered four-footed, mouse-killing cat that was the source of the magistrate’s wealth, but the coasting, sailing, coal-carrying cat; that, gentlemen, was Whittington’s cat.”

We may now pass from the fictitious to the real Richard Whittington, and although this is not the place for a life of the distinguished citizen, which may be found elsewhere, it will be convenient to set down in order the chief incidents of his career.

Richard Whittington was the third son of Sir William Whittington, knight, of Pauntley, Gloucestershire, and it is assumed, by some writers, that he was born in or about the year 1360. We must, however, place his birth at an earlier date, for his name appears in the city Letter Book, H, fol. 110a, (as Richard Whyttingdone), in the second year of Richard II. (A.D. 1379), as a contributor of five marks towards a loan to the city authorities; about four-fifths of the subscribers contributing the same, which is the lowest figure among the contributions.[B] This is the first appearance of Whittington’s name in the city books. William, the eldest son, succeeded to the family property of Pauntley, but, dying without issue, the estate went to Robert, the second son, who became high sheriff of the county in 1402, and again in 1407. Pauntley remained in the family as late as 1546.Nothing is known of Richard’s early life, either as to when or how he came to London. He appears to have married Alice, daughter of Hugh Fitzwarren, and probably he was originally apprenticed to his father-in-law, whose name appears in all the versions of his history.

The second appearance of Whittington’s name in the city books is in 8 Richard II., when he was one of the eight common councilmen for Coleman Street ward. In 11 Richard II. he is named as becoming surety to the chamberlain in the sum of ten pounds towards providing money for defence of the city. In the following year he appears to have been no longer a member for Coleman Street ward. On the 12th of March, 1393, he is named as then chosen alderman of Broad Street ward; and on 21st September of the same year he was chosen by the mayor, William Staundon, one of the sheriffs for the ensuing year.[C]

When Adam Bamme died in the year 1397, during his mayoralty, Richard II. arbitrarily put Whittington in his place, and at the lord mayor’s day of that year Whittington again filled the office, being then regularly elected.[D] From his will we find that this king, who was a member of the Mercers’ Company, to which Whittington was apprenticed, was an especial patron of his. In 1400 he was excused from attending the Scottish wars, and in 1406 he was again elected mayor. He rebuilt his parish church, and Mr. Riley has printed in his valuable Memorials (p. 578) the grant by Whittington of land for the re-building of the church of St. Michael, Paternoster, “in the street called La Riole,” called after the merchants of La Riole, a town near Bordeaux, who had established themselves there.

Whittington was knighted by Henry V., and in 1419 he was elected mayor for the fourth time. It was in this year that John Carpenter commenced the compilation of his famous Liber Albus. We see how highly this distinguished citizen was appreciated from the writings of such men as Grafton and Stow. Richard Grafton writes in his Chronicle (1569, p. 433)—

“This yere (1406) a worthie citizen of London, named Rychard Whittyngton, mercer and alderman, was elected maior of the sayde citie, and bare that office three tymes. This worshipfull man so bestowed his goodes and substaunce to the honor of God, to the reliefe of the pore, and to the benefite of the comon weale, that he hath right well deserved to be regestered in the boke of fame. First, he erected one house or church in London to be a house of prayer, and he named the same after his awne name Whittyngtons College, and so it remayneth to this day. And in the same church, besydes certeine priestes and clerkes, he placed a number of poore aged men and women and buylded for them houses and lodgyngs, and allowed unto them wood, cole, cloth, and weekly money to their great reliefe and comfort.... He also buylded for the ease of the maior of London and his brethren, and of the worshipfull citizens at the solempne dayes of their assemblye, a chapell adioining to the Guyldhall, to the entent they should euer before they entered into any of theyr affayrs first to go into the chappel, and by prayer to call upon God for assistaunce.... He also buylded a great part of the east ende of the Guildhall, besyde many other good workes that I knowe not. But among all other I will shewe unto you one very notable, which I receyved credibly by a writyng of his awne hande, which also he willed to be fixed as a schedule to his last will and testament, the contentes whereof was that he willed and commaunded his executors as they would aunswere before God at the day of the resurrection of all fleshe, that if they found any debtor of his that ought to him any money, that if he were not in their consciences well worth three tymes as much, and also out of the debt of other men, and well able to pay, that then they shoulde never demaund it, for he cleerely forgave it, and that they should put no man in sute for any debt due to him. Looke upon thys, ye aldermen, for it is a glorious glasse.”

Stow writes as follows in his Survey of London on some of Whittington’s good works:—

“Richard Whittington, mercer, three times mayor, in the year 1421 began the library of the grey friars in London, to the charge of four hundred pounds: his executors with his goods founded and built Whittington College, with almshouses for thirteen poor men, and divinity lectures to be read there for ever. They repaired St. Bartholomew’s hospital in Smithfield; they bare half the charges of building the library there, and they built the west gate of London, of old time called Newgate,” &c.[E]

“The 1st year of Henry VI. John Coventrie and John Carpenter, executors to Richard Whitington, gave towards the paving of this great hall twenty pounds, and the next year fifteen pounds more, to the said pavement, with hard stone of Purbeck; they also glazed some windows thereof, and of the mayor’s court; on every which windows the arms of Richard Whitington are placed.”[F]

Respecting the library at Guildhall, Stow, after relating how the Duke of Somerset, Lord Protector, borrowed the books and never returned them, writes:—“This library was built by the executors of Richard Whittington and by William Burie; the arms of Whittington are placed on the one side in the stone work, and two letters, to wit W and B, for William Burie, on the other side; it is now lofted through, and made a storehouse for clothes.”[G]

Whittington appears to have died childless, and in the interesting picture of his deathbed, copied by Mr. Lysons from an illumination in the ordinances of his college, his executors are seen around his bed. His will was proved in 1423 by John Coventry, John White, William Grove and John Carpenter. The College of St. Spirit and St. Mary consisted of a master, four fellows (masters of arts), clerks, conducts, chorists, &c. It was dissolved by Edward VI.; but the memory of it remains in the name College Hill, Upper Thames Street. God’s House or Hospital for thirteen poor men was moved to Highgate in 1808.By his will Whittington directed that the inmates of his college should pray for the souls of himself and his wife Alice, of Sir William Whittington, and his wife Dame Joan, of Hugh Fitzwarren and his wife Dame Malde, as well as for the souls of Richard II. and Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester, “special lords and promoters of the said Whittington.”

Whittington’s epitaph is preserved by Stow and is in Latin; yet the author of a Life of Whittington (1811) makes the following misstatement:—

“Record, however, has handed down to us the original epitaph, as it was cut on the monument of Sir Richard, by order of his executors; and, exclusive of its connection with the subject of these pages, it may be subjoined as a curious specimen of the poetry of an age which was comparatively with the present so entirely involved in the darkness of superstition and ignorance.

Life of Sir R. Whittington, by the author of Memoirs of George Barnwell, 1811, p. 106.

LIST OF VERSIONS, EDITIONS, &c.

The following extract from Granger’s History of England is curious as showing that the public would not have a portrait of Whittington without a representation of his famous cat:—

“The true portraicture of Richard Whitington, thrise Lord Maior of London; a vertuous and godly man, full of good works, and those famous. He builded the gate of London called Newegate, which before was a miserable doungeon. He builded Whitington College, and made it an almose-house for poore people. Also he builded a great parte of the hospitall of St. Bartholomew’s, in West Smithfield, in London. He also builded the beautiful library at the Grey Friars in London, called Christe’s Hospitall. He also builded the Guildehalle chappell, and increased a great parte of the east ende of the said halle, beside many other good workes.”—R. Elstracke sc. Collar of SS.; his right hand on a cat.

Granger says of this:

“The cat has been inserted as the common people did not care to buy the print without it. There was none originally in the plate, but a skull in the place of the cat. I have seen only two proofs of this portrait in its first state, and these were fine impressions.”—1775, vol. i. p. 62.

The following is a copy of the headings of the chapters in an early form of the chap-book version of Whittington’s life:

THE
HISTORY
OF
SIR RICHARD WHITTINGTON,
Thrice Lord Mayor of London.
Durham: Printed and sold by I. Lane. [1730.]

THE LIFE OF
SIR RICHARD WHITTINGTON.

Chap. I.

How, Whittington, being born of unknown parents, was left to a desperate fortune, and rambled the country till necessity and fear made him come to London.

Chap. II.

How, at the instance of Mrs. Alice, the Merchant’s daughter, he became a servant in the family under the cook maid, who used him cruelly, and how Mrs. Alice took pity on him, and interpos’d her authority.

Chap. III.

How, lying in a garret, he was ready to be devoured by rats and mice, and to prevent it purchased a cat with a penny given him for cleaning shoes; and how, with the servants, he adventured the cat, being all his stock.

Chap. IV.

How the bitter jade of a cook maid encreasing her cruelty towards him he grew weary of his service, and was running away on All-Hallow’s day; but upon hearing the ringing of Bow bells came back again. Also how the merchant abroad disposed of his cat.

Chap. V.

Of the great riches received for Whittington’s cat more than for all the goods in the ship; on the arrival of which his master sent for him upstairs by the title of Mr. Whittington, and the excuses he made, and how he distributed part of his wealth to his fellow-servants giving the ill-natur’d cook maid 100l.

Chap. VI.

How Mr. Whittington, being genteely dress’d, became, to all appearance, a very comely, proper person; how Mrs. Alice, his master’s daughter, fell in love with him, and, by her father’s consent, married him; and also how he was chosen sheriff of London.

Chap. VII.

How he was thrice elected Lord Mayor of London; how he entertain’d King Henry V. in his return from the conquest of France: with an account of his buildings for pious and charitable uses, great liberality to the poor, his death, burial, and epitaph.

EPITAPH.

The following reprint of a later version of the chap-book is almost identical with a large number of editions:

THE
ADVENTURES
OF
SIR RICHARD WHITTINGTON,
WHO WAS
THREE TIMES
LORD MAYOR OF LONDON.
And the Surprising History of his
CAT,
TO WHICH IS ADDED
The Caledonian, A Poem.
Banbury:
Printed and sold by J. Cheney, in the High Street.

THE
HISTORY
OF
WHITTINGTON.

Dick Whittington was a very little boy when his father and mother died; little indeed, that he never knew them, nor the place where he was born. He strolled about the country as ragged as a colt, till he met with a waggoner who was going to London, and who gave him leave to walk all the way by the side of his waggon without paying anything for his passage, which pleased little Whittington very much, as he wanted to see London sadly, for he had heard that the streets were paved with gold, and he was willing to get a bushel of it; but how great was his disappointment, poor boy! when he saw the streets covered with dirt instead of gold, and found himself in a strange place, without a friend, without food, and without money.

Though the waggoner was so charitable as to let him walk up by the side of the waggon for nothing, he took care not to know him when he came to town, and the poor boy was, in a little time, so cold and so hungry that he wished himself in a good kitchen and by a warm fire in the country.

In this distress he asked charity of several people, and one of them bid him “Go to work for an idle rogue.” “That I will,” says Whittington, “with all my heart; I will work for you if you will let me.”

The man, who thought this favoured of wit and impertinence (tho’ the poor lad intended only to show his readiness to work), gave him a blow with a stick which broke his head so that the blood ran down. In this situation, and fainting for want of food, he laid himself down at the door of one Mr. Fitzwarren, a merchant, where the cook saw him, and, being an ill-natured hussey, ordered him to go about his business or she would scald him. At this time Mr. Fitzwarren came from the Exchange, and began also to scold at the poor boy, bidding him to go to work.

Whittington answered that he should be glad to work if any body would employ him, and that he should be able if he could get some victuals to eat, for he had had nothing for three days, and he was a poor country boy, and knew nobody, and nobody would employ him.

He then endeavoured to get up, but he was so very weak that he fell down again, which excited so much compassion in the merchant that he ordered the servants to take him in and give him some meat and drink, and let him help the cook to do any dirty work that she had to set him about. People are too apt to reproach those who beg with being idle, but give themselves no concern to put them in the way of getting business to do, or considering whether they are able to do it, which is not charity.

I remember a circumstance of this sort, which Sir William Thompson told my father with tears in his eyes, and it is so affecting that I shall never forget it:

STORY
OF
SIR WILLIAM THOMPSON.

“When Sir William Thompson was in the plantation abroad, one of his friends told him he had an indentured servant whom he had just bought, that was his countryman and a lusty man; ‘but he is so idle,’ says he, ‘that I cannot get him to work.’ ‘Aye,’ says Sir William, ‘let me see him.’ Accordingly they walked out together and found the man sitting on a heap of stones. Upon this Sir William, after enquiring about his country, asked why he did not go out to work. ‘I am not able,’ answered the man. ‘Not able?’ says Sir William, ‘I am sure you look very well; give him a few stripes.’ Upon this the planter struck him several times, but the poor man still kept his seat.

“Then they left him to look over the plantation, exclaiming against his obstinacy all the way they went; but how surprised were they, on their return, to find the poor man fallen from off the place where he had been sitting, and dead! ‘The cruelty,’ says Sir William, ‘of my ordering the poor man to be beaten while in the agonies of death lies always next my heart. It is what I shall never forget, and will for ever prevent my judging rashly of people who appear in distress. How do we know what our children may come to? The Lord have mercy upon the poor, and defend them from the proud, the inconsiderate, and the avaricious.’”

But we return to Whittington: who would have lived happy in this worthy family had he not been bumped about by the cross cook, who must be always roasting or basting, and when the spit was still employed her hands upon poor Whittington! ’till Miss Alice, his master’s daughter, was informed of it, and then she took compassion on the poor boy, and made the servants treat him kindly.

Besides the crossness of the cook, Whittington had another difficulty to get over before he could be happy. He had, by order of his master, a flock-bed placed for him in a garret, where there were such a number of rats and mice that often ran over the poor boy’s nose and disturbed him in his sleep. After some time, however, a gentleman, who came to his master’s house, gave Whittington a penny for brushing his shoes. This he put into his pocket, being determined to lay it out to the best advantage; and the next day, seeing a woman in the street with a cat under her arm, he ran up to know the price of it. The woman (as the cat was a good mouser) asked a deal of money for it, but on Whittington’s telling her he had but a penny in the world, and that he wanted a cat sadly, she let him have it.

This cat Whittington concealed in the garret, for fear she should be beat about by his mortal enemy the cook, and here she soon killed or frightened away the rats and mice, so that the poor boy could now sleep as sound as a top.

Soon after this the merchant, who had a ship ready to sail, called for his servants, as his custom was, in order that each of them might venture something to try their luck; and whatever they sent was to pay neither freight nor custom, for he thought justly that God Almighty would bless him the more for his readiness to let the poor partake of his fortune. “He that giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord, who will return it seventy-fold.”

All the servants appeared but poor Whittington, who, having neither money nor goods, could not think of sending anything to try his luck; but his good friend Miss Alice, thinking his poverty kept him away, ordered him to be called.

She then offered to lay down something for him, but the merchant told his daughter that would not do, it must be something of his own. Upon which poor Whittington said he had nothing but a cat which he bought for a penny that was given him. “Fetch thy cat, boy,” said the merchant, “and send her.” Whittington brought poor puss and delivered her to the captain, with tears in his eyes, for he said he should now be disturbed by the rats and mice as much as ever. All the company laughed at the adventure but Miss Alice, who pitied the poor boy, and gave him something to buy another cat.

While puss was beating the billows at sea, poor Whittington was severely beaten at home by his tyrannical mistress the cook, who used him so cruelly, and made such game of him for sending his cat to sea, that at last the poor boy determined to run away from his place, and, having packed up the few things he had, he set out very early in the morning on All-Hallows day. He travelled as far as Holloway, and there sat down on a stone to consider what course he should take; but while he was thus ruminating, Bow bells, of which there were only six, began to ring; and he thought their sounds addressed him in this manner:

“Lord Mayor of London!” said he to himself; “what would not one endure to be Lord Mayor of London, and ride in such a fine coach? Well, I’ll go back again, and bear all the pummelling and ill-usage of Cicely rather than miss the opportunity of being Lord Mayor!” So home he went, and happily got into the house and about his business before Mrs. Cicely made her appearance.

We must now follow Miss Puss to the coast of Africa, to that coast where Dido expired for loss of Ænus (sic). How perilous are voyages at sea, how uncertain the winds and the waves, and how many accidents attend a naval life!

The ship, which had the cat on board, was long beaten at sea, and at last, by contrary winds, driven on a part of the coast of Barbary which was inhabited by Moors, unknown to the English. These people received our countrymen with civility, and therefore the captain, in order to trade with them, shewed them the patterns of the goods he had on board, and sent some of them to the king of the country, who was so well pleased that he sent for the captain and the factor to his palace, which was about a mile from the sea. Here they were placed, according to the custom of the country, on rich carpets, flowered with gold and silver; and the king and queen being seated at the upper end of the room, dinner was brought in, which consisted of many dishes; but no sooner were the dishes put down but an amazing number of rats and mice came from all quarters, and devoured all the meat in an instant. The factor, in surprise, turned round to the nobles and asked “If these vermin were not offensive?” “O yes,” said they, “very offensive; and the king would give half his treasure to be freed of them, for they not only destroy his dinner, as you see, but they assault him in his chamber, and even in bed, so that he is obliged to be watched while he is sleeping for fear of them.”

The factor jumped for joy; he remembered poor Whittington and his cat, and told the king he had a creature on board the ship that would despatch all these vermin immediately. The king’s heart heaved so high at the joy which this news gave him that his turban dropped off his head. “Bring this creature to me,” says he; “vermin are dreadful in a court, and if she will perform what you say, I will load your ship with gold and jewels in exchange for her.” The factor, who knew his business, took this opportunity to set forth the merits of Miss Puss. He told his majesty “That it would be inconvenient to part with her, as, when she was gone, the rats and mice might destroy the goods in the ship—but to oblige his majesty he would fetch her.” “Run, run,” said the queen; “I am impatient to see the dear creature.”Away flew the factor, while another dinner was providing, and returned with the cat just as the rats and mice were devouring that also. He immediately put down Mrs. Puss, who killed a great number of them.

The king rejoiced greatly to see his old enemies destroyed by so small a creature, and the queen was highly pleased, and desired the cat might be brought near that she might look at her. Upon which the factor called “Pussy, pussy, pussy,” and she came to him. He then presented her to the queen, who started back, and was afraid to touch a creature who had made such a havoc among the rats and mice; however, when the factor stroked the cat and called “Pussy, pussy,” the queen also touched her and cried “Putty, putty,” for she had not learned English.

He then put her down on the queen’s lap, where she, purring, played with her majesty’s hand, and then sung herself to sleep.

The king having seen the exploits of Mrs. Puss, and being informed that she was with young, and would stock the whole country, bargained with the captain and factor for the whole ship’s cargo, and then gave them ten times as much for the cat as all the rest amounted to. With which, taking leave of their majesties, and other great personages at court, they sailed with a fair wind for England, whither we must now attend them.

The morn had scarcely dawned when Mr. Fitzwarren stole from the bed of his beloved wife, to count over the cash, and settle the business for that day. He had just entered the compting-house, and seated himself at the desk, when somebody came, tap, tap, at the door. “Who’s there?” says Mr. Fitzwarren. “A friend,” answered the other. “What friend can come at this unseasonable time?” “A real friend is never unseasonable,” answered the other. “I come to bring you good news of your ship Unicorn.” The merchant bustled up in such an hurry that he forgot his gout; instantly opened the door, and who should be seen waiting but the captain and factor, with a cabinet of jewels, and a bill of lading, for which the merchant lifted up his eyes and thanked heaven for sending him such a prosperous voyage. Then they told him the adventures of the cat, and shewed him the cabinet of jewels which they had brought for Mr. Whittington. Upon which he cried out with great earnestness, but not in the most poetical manner,—

It is not our business to animadvert upon these lines; we are not critics, but historians. It is sufficient for us that they are the words of Mr. Fitzwarren; and though it is beside our purpose, and perhaps not in our power to prove him a good poet, we shall soon convince the reader that he was a good man, which was a much better character; for when some, who were present, told him that this treasure was too much for such a poor boy as Whittington, he said, “God forbid that I should deprive him of a penny; it is his own, and he shall have it to a farthing.” He then ordered Mr. Whittington in, who was at this time cleaning the kitchen, and would have excused himself from going into the compting-house, saying, the room was rubbed, and his shoes were dirty and full of hob-nails. The merchant, however, made him come in, and ordered a chair to be set for him. Upon which, thinking they intended to make sport of him, as had been too often the case in the kitchen, he besought his master not to mock a poor simple fellow, who intended them no harm, but let him go about his business. The merchant, taking him by the hand, said, “Indeed, Mr. Whittington, I am in earnest with you, and sent for you to congratulate you on your great success. Your cat has procured you more money than I am worth in the world, and may you long enjoy it and be happy.”

At length, being shown the treasure, and convinced by them that all of it belonged to him, he fell upon his knees and thanked the Almighty for his providential care of such a poor and miserable creature. He then laid all the treasure at his master’s feet, who refused to take any part of it, but told him he heartily rejoiced at his prosperity, and hoped the wealth he had acquired would be a comfort to him, and would make him happy. He then applied to his mistress, and to his good friend Miss Alice, who refused to take any part of the money, but told him she heartily rejoiced at his good success, and wished him all imaginable felicity. He then gratified the captain, factor, and the ship’s crew, for the care they had taken of his cargo. He likewise distributed presents to all the servants in the house, not forgetting even his old enemy the cook, though she little deserved it.

After this Mr. Fitzwarren advised Mr. Whittington to send for the necessary people and dress himself like a gentleman, and made him the offer of his house to live in till he could provide himself with a better.

Now it came to pass that when Mr. Whittington’s face was washed, his hair curled, and dressed in a rich suit of clothes, that he turned out a genteel young fellow; and, as wealth contributes much to give a man confidence, he in a little time dropped that sheepish behaviour which was principally occasioned by a depression of spirits, and soon grew a sprightly and good companion, insomuch that Miss Alice, who had formerly seen him with an eye of compassion, now viewed him with other eyes, which perhaps was in some measure occasioned by his readiness to oblige her, and by continually making her presents of such things that he thought would be most agreeable.

When her father perceived they had this good liking for each other he proposed a match between them, to which both parties cheerfully consented, and the Lord Mayor, Court of Aldermen, Sheriffs, the Company of Stationers, and a number of eminent merchants attended the ceremony, and were elegantly treated at an entertainment made for that purpose.

History further relates that they lived very happy, had several children, and died at a good old age. Mr. Whittington served Sheriff of London in the year 1340, and was three times Lord Mayor. In the last year of his mayoralty he entertained King Henry V. and his Queen, after his conquest of France, upon which occasion the King, in consideration of Whittington’s merit, said, “Never had prince such a subject;” which being told to Whittington at the table, he replied “Never had subject such a king.” His Majesty, out of respect to his good character, conferred the honour of knighthood on him soon after.

Sir Richard many years before his death constantly fed a great number of poor citizens, built a church and a college to it, with a yearly allowance for poor scholars, and near it erected an hospital. He also built Newgate for criminals, and gave liberally to St. Bartholomew’s Hospital and other public charities.

Two old houses in London, which were pulled down at the beginning of the present century, have been associated with the name of Whittington, but there is no evidence that he really dwelt in either of them. One ruinous building in Sweedon’s Passage, Grub Street, engravings of which will be found in J. T. Smith’s Topography of London, was pulled down in 1805, and five houses built on its site. A tablet was then set up, on which was an inscription to the effect that the house had been called Gresham House, and that Whittington once inhabited it.

The magnificent house which stood in Hart Street, Crutched Friars, a few doors from Mark Lane, is said to have been called Whittington’s palace in the old leases, but this is the only evidence in favour of the popular belief. The front was elaborately carved in oak, the work of a much later date than that of Whittington. The decoration is attributed to the latter part of the reign of Henry VIII., and on the ceiling among other forms was that of a cat’s head, from which possibly the tradition of its having been the residence of Whittington arose. There was a popular superstition that the cat’s eyes followed the visitor as he walked about the room. This house was taken down in 1801, but both it and the house in Sweedon’s Passage were reproduced in the interesting Old London Street at the International Health Exhibition of 1884.