Mrs Barber placed a dish of tea before me and then sat quietly across the table. The grimy-faced child looked ruefully at its mother, and then some few words were exchanged between them, although I had no idea of what they were saying for it was as though they were speaking their own secret language. As they continued to jabber, I deemed it polite to lower my eyes and look away for it appeared that whatever was being said between the two of them was becoming increasingly animated and more urgent. Eventually Mrs Barber asked to be momentarily excused. When she returned to the table she did so with a plain piece of bread in one hand, which she passed to the child, clearly intending this gift to be some form of incentive to persuade the cub to remain quiet.
'I'm sorry, sir,' she said. 'I don't mean to delay you in any way, but you know what youngsters can be like.'
The truth was, being a bachelor of some standing, I had been spared the antics of childish misbehaviour, but I nevertheless bestowed a generous smile upon the woman.
'Mrs Barber, first I wish to thank you for agreeing to see me today. I know that you are busy with matters relating to your schoolhouse and I also understand that you must be grieving over your recent loss. However, I wish to write a small profile for the Gentlemen's Magazine concerning your late husband and the unique position that he occupied from which he was able to witness the birth of some of our finest literature. I was, of course, hoping to speak with him directly, but this being impossible I thank you most sincerely for granting me an audience. I will endeavour to occupy only a small portion of your morning.'
The woman looked quizzically upon me, but she chose to say nothing. For my part I was surprised to see how much of an inroad nature had made into her complexion for, sad to say, she was pockmarked extensively, and her grey hair hung lank about her ears. This was not the woman that I had expected to encounter, but the elements have a way of destroying even the most beautiful objects in nature, and sadly it appeared that Mrs Barber had been quite brutally exposed to the vicissitudes of rain and shine for many years now.
'Does it trouble you my daughter being present?' She spoke quietly, but before I could answer, she continued. 'I can send her out if it will please you.' I smiled, first upon her and then in the direction of the mongrel.
'It matters little to me, Mrs Barber. As I said, I have no desire to disturb your day more than is strictly necessary.'
The common woman looked at me in a strange manner, and for a moment I imagined her to be perhaps impaired in her faculties. She began to grin, somewhat toothlessly, and I found myself trying to imagine this Betsy in her full glory a quarter of a century earlier when all of London was animated by the news of the scandalous developments in the great lexicographer's household.
In 1776, Francis announced to his master that he was somewhat persecuted by love and that he had discovered the girl to whom he wished to be married. Initially, Dr Johnson wondered if the lucky girl was with child, but he deemed it politic not to enquire. He knew of Francis' popularity with a variety of young females, and although he regarded the sable young man with paternal concern, he was reluctant to begin lecturing the negro on any aspect of his behaviour in case Francis felt pressured into once again absconding to sea. Dr Johnson asked Francis if he might meet with his bride-to-be, and Francis said that he would bring the girl to him at his master's earliest convenience. Francis also suggested that in order to avoid further conflict with Miss Williams, he would prefer it if after their marriage he and his wife might be permitted to establish lodgings outside of Dr Johnson's house. After all, in addition to Miss Williams there was also her Scotch maid, and the gloomy widow, Mrs Jesmoulins, and her recently arrived daughter, so his master would not be short of assistance. Francis made it clear that he intended to continue to serve his master, but in the interests of peace and harmony he seemed to have already made up his mind that this would be the most sensible course of action.
Two days later, Francis arrived at the house with a freshfaced, twenty-year-old English girl in tow, her arm linked nervously through his own. He introduced the girl to Dr Johnson as Elizabeth, and she curtseyed gracefully, but then Francis immediately began referring to her as Betsy, which his master took as his cue to do the same. The older man inspected the young girl, who seemed slight of body but possessed of a natural bloom, and he then asked after her family, and requested intelligence of how it had come to pass that she had met his Francis. He listened to her shy and cautious words, and then he delicately asked if the couple had any immediate plans for a family, at which point the girl blushed a deep crimson. Again, it occurred to the doctor that the wench might already be with child, for he knew full well that Francis' adventures in the world of passion were extensive and freely reported. Apparently some women, particularly those among the lower orders, found his ebony complexion appealing, and he saw no reason why this Betsy should be any different from the others. However, anything short of a direct question was not going to resolve his private speculation, and knowing that it would be impertinent to pose the question the doctor resigned himself to ignorance. After all, nature would soon enough provide him with an answer.
For her part, Betsy looked upon the famous Dr Johnson and wondered just what services her soon-to-be husband provided for this dishevelled man, whose wig had clearly seldom been combed and whose clothes looked dusty and unwashed. She had heard from many who had witnessed the gentleman roaming abroad at all hours of the day and night, that the man appeared to be insensible to his squalid appearance, but nothing had prepared her for this degree of slovenliness. However, he seemed to be a kind man, and he habitually referred to her Frank as 'my boy' in a manner that was affectionate enough for there to be no doubt in her mind how fondly he regarded Frank. And then later, but during this same visit, Betsy came to understand why her husband-to-be had insisted that they find their own place of abode outside of Dr Johnson's residence. Miss Williams, upon being introduced to Francis' intended, simply snorted in disgust and turned on her heels, which prompted neither comment nor admonition from the head of the household. As far as Betsy was able to discern, this blind woman, who apparently knew her way about the house with a confidence and ease that most sighted people lacked, clearly considered herself to be the queen of the establishment, and she made no secret of her contempt for Frank. Her husband-to-be had already informed her that she liked nothing better than to rail against him, calling him 'this supposed scholar!', and now Betsy saw for herself the truth of the situation. It was not until the ill-tempered Miss Williams left the room that she once again relaxed and felt able to breathe freely.