Pyg

by Russell Potter

  Our host invited us into an inner Chamber, where a fine repast was laid out for us both, as though we had been Expected. For Sam there was a steaming bowl of Porridge, a variety of Fruits and a large wedge of Cheese; for me, there was a large copper Basin, filled with the most tender grains and Vegetables, which had been cooked in Barley-water. I did not see any Meat upon the table that day, nor on any Other, so although our Host was too gracious to mention it, I was certain that its Absence was due to his devotion to his Animals, and his Abhorrence of the idea of Eating any of them. After our feast, we were led to a pair of Beds—Sam’s furnished with a soft mattress and a cotton Coverlet, mine quite heaped with fresh clean Straw. I doubt that either of us ever enjoyed such a Sleep as we did that day, for our weariness was as Profound as the relief we felt in discovering such a Friend. We must have slept the evening and night together, for we woke at Dawn with the Cock’s-crow, and found again an ample Meal set before us. Our Host was not present—doubtless his many Duties on the estate did not permit him to Wait upon our rising, but he would make his appearance shortly. Which indeed he did, within a little less than an hour; he once again bowed to us both, and directed Sam to a washroom where a large pail of warm water, with ample Soap and Towels, awaited him.

  On emerging from his Bath, my Benefactor was restored to his former self, shiny and Pink; Mr Bisset had also provided him fresh Cloathes from his own Closet, and although they hung quite Loosely upon his small Frame, Sam did not seem to mind. We were again welcomed, with words of the Kindest tone, and I understood from Sam that we were to have the Run of the Place, and amuse ourselves as we saw Fit. We did so quite happily, discovering on our Peregrinations much more about the Place that surprised us, and not a little that Amazed. The outbuildings had, like the house, been outfitted for any sort of Animal or Man; the only exception being the Barn, which was, as with the more common sort, designed entirely on the scale of Horses; the only difference being that their Stalls had no doors, nor was there any sign of Bits, Reins, saddles or Stirrups, such as would ordinarily be employed. I did, on closer inspection, discover a Whip—but as it was quite old and dusty, and gave the appearance of having long lain idle, I thought nothing of it.

  The grounds were beautifully kept, though we could find no sign of any other Persons on the Property. There had, apparently, been a Mrs Bisset at some point, for a portrait of her with her husband had a Prominent place in the Parlour, but if she were still Extant, there was no sign of her presence. Once or twice a Week, a wagon arrived with such Provisions as were required, other than those which the Farm itself produced, and twice each day, without fail, we sat down to a fine meal which was set out for us. We had our own dining-table, as did the cats, and also the Dogs, upon which was set every delicacy that each Animal might have desired—with the exception, as I have said, of Meat of any sort. Mr Bisset had developed a sort of concentrated Food, in the form of Pellets of compressed vegetable matter, which were Flavoured in such a manner that all seemed to find them Palatable. Even the Mouse had his own sort of concentrated food, but he alone was fed by Hand, as he rarely left his Master’s Pocket, save at night when he retired to a little suite of rooms that had been made for him in the manner of a child’s Doll’s House. This was placed on a high shelf, though whether to keep him Safe from the many Felines in the house, or simply because it was at a convenient Height for leaping in and out of pockets, I could not tell.

  The only other activity we could discern in the home took place each afternoon in what must have been the former Drawing-room. The Cats were often called to Attend, but what it was they did therein I could not tell, as the door was kept closed at all times. The one Glimpse I caught was of a pair of brightly coloured Stools, between which a length of Cord had been tied, though what use such an arrangement could be to the Cats I could not begin to Imagine. And yet, in that Sight, I sensed that some further Demand, some greater Expectation, was made of us, the Animal residents of Mr Bisset’s Demesne, than simply to Live, and Frolic, and wander about his Grounds—indeed, that there was yet to be revealed some dread Command with which we all must Comply or else Forfeit the many accommodations made for us in this his House. This feeling, during all my first Time there, was very closely associated with these Doors, and I was quite convinced that, once they were to be Opened, all would be Revealed to me, for Better or for Worse.

  And so one day it was. It began much like any other, in that a welcome Meal was all laid out upon Table and trough, such that both Sam and I were soon sated, and ready to set out upon our daily Rounds about the estate. We were accustomed to seeing Mr Bisset strolling upon the large stone Patio that adjoined his home, and there indeed he Was, but so strangely Dressed and Appointed that we scarce Knew him. He was attired in a complete suit, cap-à-pie, of Black silk, along with a Waistcoat of red Satin, a tall Hat of Beaver fur, and a great bow Tie of some checked material. He looked for all the world like a Showman in want of a Show, and indeed this appearance was to be borne out in a moment far more absolute than I was then capable of grasping. He strode into the Hall, and stood before the twin Doors of the occluded Room, then Bowed, most deeply, in my Direction. I did the same in Return, having many times observed such Formalities, and then stood in Awe as the Doors of Perception were most suddenly thrown Ope, revealing, no concatenation of Cats but rather this simple Tableau: the twenty-six letters of the Alphabet, and the eleven numerals from 0 to 10, which comprise the Alpha-numeric Range of these our Numbers. In that sight, I beheld at once the double path of my Destiny, for by these Means I might give Utterance to my Will, and yet with these same Characters Mr Bisset could express His, and by them I would—as I am even as I write the very words you see before you—henceforth be Bound.

  5

  In the time of the Spanish Inquisition—a History with which I later became Acquainted by these same means—it was customary, before Torturing those accused of Heresy, to show to them the Instruments of their Agony. Many were so overcome by the mere Thought of these implements being used upon them that they at once Confessed to whatever charges the Inquisitor might name, heedless of how by every Word they were thus Damned. Well I knew that Mr Bisset possessed the power of commanding Animals to do his will, but the Means by which he obtained this power were yet a Mystery. The charm of his voice, his pleasant outward demeanour, the food he prepared and set before us, these were surely the chief Rewards that he employed, but what were his Punishments? As these letters and numbers swirled before me, I Resolved, if it were Possible, never to discover what it was that my new Master would do if I did not follow his Commands. And, of course, that was what all the other Animals before me had doubtless done, out of the same Conviction I presently felt, that such a discovery must be as Terrible as the rewards were Pleasant—and that would have been Terrible indeed.

  Our routine, which began that Day, never varied. Mr Bisset would point to a card upon which was written a letter or number. He would then Name this card, using several slight indications together: a motion with his eye to the proper card, a pattern of clicks (say, one click and two clucks), and then a third sign, which was a common Word in English. These words did not begin with, or in many cases even include, the letter in Question, but were the sort of words one could easily use in a sentence without drawing any special Attention to them. Words such as ‘Presently’ or ‘Shall’ or ‘Receive’ or ‘Answer’—each of them a cue for a letter, such as J, O, H and N (which are in fact just the letters they represented). He would vary the signs he used, sometimes clicking quietly just under his breath, sometimes employing the words in a Sentence, such as ‘Presently you shall receive your Answer.’ At first the signs were always accompanied by his pointing out the correct letters on each card, after which I would approach the shelf on which they were laid, and pick up each in my Mouth, then drop it on a chalked square on the floor, in the order in which they were Demanded. Once I had perfectly memorised this routine, he would gradually withdraw his other Signs, employing his Eye only. It was
remarkable to me that I nearly always Understood his intent, a Phenomenon I can only account for by Supposing that these oft-repeated Routines had established a sort of Intuitive understanding between us.

  This whole system, I soon realised, was designed to enable him to carry on with whatever Patter he liked, all the while sending me a clear set of Signals as to the Cards I was to choose. If there was ever any doubt, a brief but imposing glance in the direction of the card wanted, was all that was needed. Which it was unlikely ever to be, for we rehearsed for at least an Hour every day, for the better part of three Months, at the end of which time I had so Completely attuned myself to this Procedure that I could perform it quite without Hesitation or even Thought of any kind. Indeed, whenever Sam chanced to use one of the words that were my signals, I was placed in great Distress, until I could relieve it by fetching the proper letter. By this means, quite by accident, I found that I was able to communicate with Sam, and he with me; he quickly made up a set of smaller cards by hand-writing letters and numbers on squares of pasteboard and, by practice, managed to learn the same Signals my master had Designated for them. Sam’s delight in our Discovery was unbounded, and each Night after Mr Bisset had gone to Rest, he would run me through my Letters.

  All this, of course, while it gave me great facility in Spelling any word upon Command, made me no more enlightened about their Sound or Meaning than a Blind man who had learnt his way among the Shelves of a Library; a great Feast of the World’s knowledge was set before me, and yet I could not partake of so much as a single Crumb. My Benefactor at once set to work to correct what he regarded as a most unkind oversight by demonstrating for me the Sounds of each letter and word, and how they came together to make human Speech. He would speak, then spell his meanings, and follow this by spelling out a Word in silence, and have me puzzle out the whole. Well I recall the very first word I learned, and it will come as no surprise to you, my Patient Reader, that this word was S-A-M.

  We had to be careful, of course, that I did not vary from my Routine with Mr Bisset, or give him any Idea that I in fact had come to understand the Letters I had previously arranged in ignorance. And yet it did Amuse me to see the sorts of things he had me Spell—given Names were most common among them (John, James, Susan, Alice, Charles and so forth, in great variety), along with words that were meant to answer some simple question, such as Y-E-S, N-O, P-E-R-H-A-P-S and N-E-V-E-R. There could be no more doubt that I was intended for a Show, and a show whose chief Attraction would be to display my seeming-knowledge of the Names of those in the Audience, and my seeming-answers to their Questions.

  I must admit that, despite the monotonous nature of these exercises, I took a better Conceit of Myself from this time, imagining the Fame of being such a Notable performer—but then, of course, I thought back to my Prize at the Fair, and how it had been given to my Owner rather than to Me. After all, would it be Man or the Pig who would most surprise the Crowd?

  At the same time, with Sam as my tutor, I was embarking on a Course of Study that, though Elementary for any Human child, was Extraordinary for a Pig. Among the books in the Study in Mr Bisset’s house, Sam found a tattered copy of the Fables of Aesop, in the Translation made by Samuel Croxall for the use of the eldest Son of Viscount Sunbury, who had been at the time just Five years of Age. It featured small wood-cuts at the Head of each tale, which were of great help in my Understanding their Sense, and since the Characters within were all represented as Animals, I readily learnt their names. It struck me at once that these so-called Animals were far more Foolish in their nature than any in my Acquaintance, but I soon realised they were but Figures, standing in for the Folly of Man—and, as Men are very foolish, the stories were many, and a great source of Pleasure. I should note here that our usual Practice was for Sam to read the tale aloud, directing me to the New or harder words as he did so, and repeating them until he was sure I had their Sense. By this means, we proceeded far more Quickly than if, as Human children do, I had to manage to Speak before I could Read.

  Before long, we could see the signs that Mr Bisset was at last Preparing to set his Show before the Public. By turns, the Cats, the Dogs, Finches, Monkeys, a Hare and, finally a group of Turkeys were all led into the Practice room and marched through their routines at double-time. All had been instructed along similar lines to those I had experienced, with Repetition being the Key, and a series of soft, sharp signals the Prod for them to go through their Paces. The doors were now left open, and I was able to see the Monkeys dance, walk a tight-rope, and play a Barrel-organ, observe the Cats at play upon their Dulcimers and regard the poor Hare beating a drum with a Mallet attached to his Tail. The only group of Animals that had no training as such was the Turkeys, and here I must confess that Mr Bisset hit upon an expedient that did him little Justice, and would have greatly Dimmed the applause had anyone Known of it: he simply placed them in a small wire enclosure, the floor of which was heated to the point where it became uncomfortable to Stand, and the efforts of these poor Birds to avoid scalding their Feet produced the ‘Country Dance’ advertised.

  Each day of the week that followed, we were visited by a constant stream of tradesmen with their vans, who delivered specially built cases for the Animals, loads of fresh Straw, canvas dividers and drop-scenes, and stacks of handbills printed on brightly coloured paper. A large wagon, hitherto covered and hidden in a far corner of the Barn, was brought forth, and carefully painted and refurbished. A much-Splattered man with an immense bucket of brushes appeared one morning; although a carriage-painter by trade, he fancied himself a far worthier artist than that, and approached the task at Hand with the gusto of a minor Michelangelo. On each side of the wagon, he painted several oval cartouches depicting scenes of Mr Bisset’s performing Animals; I am somewhat Ashamed to say that I was Delighted to find Myself the subject of the central, and largest of these. ‘THE REMARKABLE SAPIENT PIG,’ he wrote in letters of red edged with gold, and had I the ability not merely to Read but to Speak, I am certain I could have given him the Shock of a Life-time, by quoting those very words back to him. The next day, the word was given out—or the Sense of it, at any rate—that we were to Leave on the Morrow, and once again, I wondered at the capacities of the World, and at the Strange and Singular path my way through it had so far Taken, and appeared very likely to take Again.

  6

  My next Progress through the World was far more Comfortable than my Last. Rather than being jostled about in utter darkness in a gloomy enclosure filled with foetid Straw, I was ensconced in a lovely wooden Case, so spacious one might almost call it a Room, fitted with a small Trough of clear water and a stack of fresh Carrots, with clean grass for my Bed and a view of the Road before me. This Case was cleverly fitted with a wooden Rim about the bottom, so that it held close to, and stayed secure atop, the other Crates beneath and beside it, all of which were secured with heavy leather Straps. The Horses trotted along in their curious Manner, directed by Mr Bisset without the use of any Whip or other device such as a coach-driver would employ, but only by his Voice, and in a manner so efficient that he never needed to Shout, but that the Horses would speed, or slow, or turn, or halt, in such a Natural manner that it seemed almost as though the idea was their Own, and not an act of Obedience to another.

  Our Tour, for so it was to be, commenced in the smaller Market towns along the road that led from Manchester to Liverpool, passing through Warrington, Newton-le-Willows, Wigan and Prescot. By this Progress, or so I inferred, Mr Bisset hoped we might work the Rough edges off our Act in smaller venues, where audiences were more forgiving, before we unveiled our Production to the more Discriminating show-goers of the larger Towns and Cities. There was, I discovered, a regular Calendar-full of Charter fairs in each of these towns, held for time out of mind on certain set dates, typically the Feast-day of some local Saint. Apparently these Saints must all have been Patrons of Commerce, for they very conveniently arranged that their Festivals would follow in perfect sequence, so that a travellin
g showman, such as Mr Bisset, could attend each one of them in Sequence, without having to backtrack or sit idly, from the middle of May to the end of June.

  Being relative Upstarts in the show-world, we were generally relegated to the less frequented part of the Pitch, as a fairground is known, while more experienced showmen had the advantage of the best Ground, where the greater number of people would Pass. Never the less, I believe we readily overcame this disadvantage, due in large part to Mr Bisset’s canny nature, and Sam’s limitless energy. The Horses were our chief Ambassadors: outfitted with colourful Caparisons advertising our Show, they processed through the fair, pausing every so often to perform a series of Tricks. They were so well trained that, at a single Word, they would execute their full routine, as well for Sam as for their Master. Sam had only to learn the bit of patter that accompanied their act, and to lead them from place to place. By the time they returned to their Stalls, they had each brought a dozen or more fair-goers in their Train, and as every showman knows, having a Crowd is the best way to attract a larger one.

  The opening routines with the dogs and monkeys were, to my mind, of a very Ordinary sort, but they were colourfully arranged, with each calculated to be just slightly more impressive than the last. The final scene, where one of the monkeys rode upon the back of a Dog, which executed a series of Leaps while the second monkey played a Barrel-organ, excited Universal shouts of pleasure, especially from the Children present. This was followed by the ‘Cat Opera’ in which a line of three Felines sat on silken cushions and struck at Dulcimers, all the while seeming very earnestly to read the Sheet-music set before them. At the same time, a series of Tom-cats would come a-caterwauling, yowling along with the music in a very tuneful manner—for Cats, at least. This opera then gave way to a brief Circus, in which cats rode a Barrel down a Rope, climbed a pole and sprang into a Net, and batted a great Wicker ball around a Ring. The Hare then beat upon the Drum with his Tail, while the Turkeys executed their ‘Country Dance’; it required only a Modicum of Imagination to suppose that they actually moved to this Music, rather than leaping about to avoid burning their Feet.