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had now to look about in earnest to do something for a living. I had
certain literary aspirations, with only very little literary equipment.
At last I summoned up sufficient courage to call on the editor of
the West Briton in Truro, and offered him my services for anything
he might consider they were worth. He listened kindly, but could promise
nothing. When leaving the office I happened to meet Mr. R. K. Philp,
who was travelling through the country in the interests of the Sentinel
a sixpenny weekly newspaper just started in London. There were no
half-penny, penny, twopenny, or threepenny newspapers in those days
in London. |
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the course of conversation Mr. Philp said he was instructed by his
employers to appoint an agent for the paper in Manchester when he
got there, and, hearing I had corresponded with the Chairman of the
Anti-Corn Law League and made myself useful by distributing its literature,
he thought, as I was in want of employment, I might represent the
new paper in that town. I seized the proposal, and then and there
undertook to go to Manchester and perform the necessary duties for
£40 a year. So commenced an important change in my life. I returned
to Blackwater with elastic steps and still more elastic hopes. But
my joy for weeks was chequered with misgivings. Manchester was a long
way off, and my intellectual and pecuniary means slender. Was I, without
experience, equal to the duties I was expected to perform? Such thoughts,
however, were swept aside by preparations for my venturesome journey
from the West to the North from my small native village to mighty
Manchester. |
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to get to Manchester was a matter of some importance. To go by railway
and have enough to live on for a week or two would cost more than
I could command. After full inquiry I decided to go from Falmouth
to Dublin as steerage passenger for ten shillings, from Dublin to
Liverpool for three shillings, and then to Manchester by rail for
two shillings and sixpence. Shillings and sixpences had to be carefully
guarded by me in those days. In due time I made ready for the eventful
journey. My luggage was neatly and tenderly packed into a carpetbag
made for the occasion by my mother. It was made of stair carpet, and
resembled a sack about two feet deep and eighteen inches in diameter.
It was held together at the top by a brass chain, which passed through
about a dozen small brass rings secured to the bag and fastened with
a padlock. Into this were placed all my worldly possessions, and at
last the parting day came, when, with overflowing emotion, I left
home and friends to commence, in untried circumstances, an uncertain
career. |
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The passage from
Falmouth to Dublin occupied forty-eight hours-forty-eight hours of
misery. It was winter time; I was cold and ill nearly all the while,
and had to pack myself away, as I best could, in the company of barrels,
boxes, and luggage, under a large tarpaulin. It was not much better,
but happily much shorter, from Dublin to Liverpool, when my fellow
passengers were half a hundred pigs, whose united screams, until we
got out to sea, made a more hideous noise than was ever before heard
on sea or land. |
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