28th October, 1761 - Claptrap!

Cockfoster's Rub has done the trick, and I am bursting at the gates to get out of here.

Despite the drizzle I ventured to the Market Place in search of some entertainment. Had me a nice plate of oysters. Afterwards, listened to the City Waits playing from upon the Guildhall roof (I think several of their number were drunk), and then had a brief argument with that rogue, Irish Jim. Seeing her at a distance, I avoided Mrs Briggs; hiding in a doorway until she had passed. I decided then, to join the queue for a viewing of the Pig-Faced boy from Framlingham. It was worth a penny - extraordinary! By this time I was working up a prodigious thirst which I was eager to slake.

Taking my place at the window of the Angel Tavern, I was soon joined by Mr Dan Tangle. He was in a very jolly mood, and laughed mightily upon recollection of various japes and adventures we have shared. After some little while, our conversation took a more serious turn when we fell upon discussing our encounter with young Mr Acorn the night before. Whispering, we agreed that this Norman nonsense must be nipped in the bud. We live in an age of Reason, and will not see our pond muddied by such palpable claptrap.

'Gadzooks, Mr Hump! Before you know it some fool will be telling us that men are descended from apes!'

We laughed heartily at the thought.

Rolling Hills and the Buddery Stare...

On this ground once stood Cornelius Hump, Esq

June 15th, 1761...
Woke with the crowing of the cock and, obligingly, mayde was on hand to help me rise. I breakfasted on a collop of bacon and resolved to take an early morning constitutional up to Mousehold heath. Walking beyond Magdalen gate, some way on I found a poor distressed soul; a fellow Antiquarian, standing quite still and staring fixedly. I instantly recognised him as that young upstart, Phileas Acorne. 

At the Society meeting the night before I had observed him engaged in a heated exchange with Mr. Buddery, the noted wall fancier. Although their words were hard to discern, it seemed to me that Acorne was arguing that divination of historical details through the tasting of mortar was, "akin to magic". Aghast at such presumption, Buddery's anger was palpable. Being mindful of the wall fanciers malevolent powers I feared for poor Phileas and offered to accompany him to the Angel for a diversionary pot of nog. Alack! The young fool declined... I can only surmise that, he had been lured to this wild place and then subjected to the Buddery stare! Egad though, I had determined to perambulate the heath, and was forced to leave him frozen where he stood...

Stood on St James' Hill and looked out across the city for a long while, catching earwards, here a dog's bark, there a snatch of some distant conversation - wind-blown sounds caught up by the mischievous breeze. Distantly, Rooks flew in circles above the castle prison and...

... I can only imagine that, in the midst of my reverie, I must have overbalanced and toppled down the hill. I have no clear recollection of events. I only know that my periwig was lost in the descent and that, having passed at great velocity through thicket and thorn I revived sometime later in a state of utter dishevelment. Indeed, even Mr. Tangle himself would never allow himself to be seen in such a condition!

© Tangle & Hump, Peddlers of the Past