At length, however, necessity compelled me to wave every consideration,

for every thing we could conveniently spare was in pawn, including even

my books, some of which were valuable. I, therefore, dressed myself in

my usual manner, and, on Tuesday evening, the 31st of January 1809, left

my home, with an intention of trying my luck at one of the Theatres;

but in my way thither, I was induced to enter a shop, (namely, Sharp’s,

the razor-maker, corner of Ludgate-hill,) of which I had conceived some

hopes; and fortune favoured me so far, that I obtained a booty of silver

fruit-knives, pencil-cases, pocket-books with instruments, _&c._, which

I estimated at four or five guineas. I was so pleased with this success

that I returned home, satisfied with my night’s gain, and gave up my

former design of going to the Theatre. My wife was agreeably surprised at

my premature return; and, as it was then but seven o’clock, I proposed to

her that we should take a walk as far as Blackfriars’-bridge, as she had

of late been closely confined to the house, and I conceived her health

required air and exercise. She immediately assented, and having locked

up the house, we proceeded towards the bridge; on arriving at which she

would have turned back, but I persuaded her to cross the water, and go as

far as the end of Fleet-street. We there entered a liquor-shop, and took

some refreshment; and my wife then earnestly pressed me to return, for

fear of meeting with some of the officers who might know me; but I now

entreated her to walk as far as Clare-market, as I wished to see a young

man who had promised to meet me, or to leave a note for me at a certain

public-house, which I had sometimes frequented when I lived in that

neighbourhood. I had, in fact, intended to call there in my way to or

from the theatre, in order to settle a plan for accompanying this person

and several others, to a grand fight, which was to have taken place the

next day at Moulsey-burst, between two celebrated pugilists, and at which

we expected to reap a plentiful harvest. The going to this house was the

maddest act I could possibly have committed, for the Bow-street officers

were in the habit of visiting it at all hours; and several of them had

seen me there at various times, dressed exactly in the manner described

in the hand-bills I have mentioned. My wife, who appears to have had too

sure a presentiment of what the consequence would be, used every art to

dissuade me from my purpose, but in vain. I assured her that I would

not stop five minutes; and that to prevent danger, she herself should

first enter the house, and observe whether there were any officers in

it, in which event I could but retire without going in, and immediately

return home. Finding I was obstinately determined on this rash step, she

accompanied me, and, on arriving near the house. I sent her into make

observations. The landlord (who had himself been an old thief), received

her very courteously; and inquiring for me, she privately asked him if

there was any danger of the officers coming there? To which he answered

in the negative, and assured her I might with safety make my appearance.

She accordingly gave me the signal, and I entered the public tap-room, in

which I found about twenty notorious characters, assembled at different

tables, some drinking and smoking, others employed in gambling with

cards, _&c._ The young man above-mentioned had left a short note, which

the landlord now put into my hand; in which I was requested to meet

him the next morning at a certain time and place, adding that he had

engaged a chaise, and that a seat was reserved for me. My wife now again

pressed me to return after taking a glass at the bar; but my evil genius

prevailed, and I stipulated that I should smoke one pipe of tobacco, and

would then willingly retire. I accordingly took a seat, placing my wife

between myself and my old acquaintance George W—k—n, who invited us to

join him. I was situated with my back to the door of the room, which

opened into a passage leading to the street. I occupied the very end of

the seat or bench, which had an elbow, on which I rested my right arm,

and there were at the same table three or four other persons besides our

party. I had scarcely lighted my pipe when I observed two men, (strangers

to me), enter the room, and whisper with the landlord; and I thought I

perceived the landlord while answering them, to glance his eye upon me;

but I only mention this by-the-by, as I had the fullest conviction of the

landlord’s integrity, and the strangers had not the least appearance of

officers; consequently, the circumstance did not at all alarm me. I had

been about half an hour in the house, and was on the point of taking my

leave, when I heard the room-door pushed open, and, as is natural in such

cases, I involuntarily turned my head; when, to my utter confusion and

alarm, I perceived two officers enter the room. As I thought it possible

I might escape their notice, I pulled my hat over my eyes, and turning

my head towards my wife and friend, on my left-hand, pretended to be in

earnest conversation with them; but how can I express my feelings, when

the officers walked immediately up to me, as naturally as if they had

been sitting in my company the whole evening; and one of them looking me

full in the face, said, “Mr. Vaux, we want you!” With as much composure

as I could assume, I answered that he was mistaken in addressing me, for

that was not my name. The fellow replied that he was certainly right,

but begged that I would step out with him into the passage, and he would

explain himself more fully. I was so weak (or rather so confounded

with surprise) as to comply with this request; and I was no sooner in

the passage, and the tap-room door closed, than the two ruffians laid

hold of me, one on each side, and hurried me away with the greatest

impetuosity. Having got a few yards from the house, they stopped to view

me by the light of a lamp, and one of them having attentively surveyed my

features (probably to compare them with the advertisement) said to his

fellow, “I’m sure we are right, Jack; he answers the description; come

along.” As they were conducting me to St. Martin’s Watch-house, they put

several questions to me, respecting my knowledge of a jeweller’s shop

in Piccadilly, my being tried at the Old Bailey, in November sessions,

_&c._; all which were of course unavailing, as I denied any knowledge

of their meaning, but which too well convinced me that they had a

thorough knowledge of my person and character, acquired no doubt from the

treacherous information of some of my dissolute acquaintances. One of

them observed, that if they had not met with me this night, they should

have done so the next day at the fight, so that it had only prevented

them from seeing the battle: perhaps, they only surmised that I should

have gone there, it being the custom for most of the London thieves

to attend such spectacles; but I have sometimes thought my intention

of going was communicated to them, either by the person I was to have

accompanied, or by the landlord who delivered me his open note on the

subject. The other observed, that I had made a good thing of it at the

Haymarket the preceding summer; adding, “We wondered who the devil it

was, that was so busy there; we did not know you so well then as we do

now, or we should have spoiled your sport.”—The fact was, that these two

vagabonds were on constant duty every night, inside of that theatre; and

I, consequently, knew them well, long before this fatal rencontre; but

I always took care to shun them, and had never excited their suspicion,

as I was not once during the whole season, detected in the course of my

operations at that house.

We now arrived at the watch-house, where they proceeded to search me

closely, but found nothing that had any relation to the present charge;

and I must not omit that their first attention was directed to my little

finger, no doubt in search of the mourning ring, mentioned in the

hand-bills; but the said ring was at this time deposited as a pledge for

the loan of one pound at a certain pawnbroker’s, and I had on, in lieu

thereof, a plain gold ring of trifling value; this they examined, and

finding (to use their words) that there were “no letters on it,” they

suffered me to retain it. I happened unluckily to have on, this night,

the very same dress I wore when I visited Mr. Bilger, namely, a black

coat and waistcoat, blue pantaloons, Hessian boots, and the same hat,

which was remarkable, being in the extreme of the newest fashion. The

only variation was, that I had neither the gold watch, eye-glass, or

mourning ring, about me, nor had I any powder in my hair; and I had on

over my other clothes a brown great-coat. After searching me, they gave

me in charge to the watch-house-keeper, and desiring to know what name

I chose to give in, as I denied being called Vaux, I assured them my

name was James Lowe, this being the name of my much-loved grandfather,

and the first that occurred to me. In this name I was therefore entered

in the charge-book, and, having told the keeper that they should call

for me in the morning, they departed. When left to ruminate on my now

hopeless condition, nothing affected me so much as the distress my poor

wife must suffer, on my being thus torn from her, and what heightened

my affliction, was, the consciousness, that had I listened to her

affectionate advice, I should probably have avoided this misfortune, and

been at that moment happy in her society, by my own fire-side: but mature

reflection convinced me, that, my time being come, it was impossible to

escape the fate to which I was born, and destined from the moment of

that birth.—I, therefore, bowed with resignation to a fate, which by my

vicious conduct I had certainly merited; and applied for consolation to

a pipe and a jug of ale, which I was permitted to send for, and which

indulgence I compensated by liberally treating the keeper and his wife,

according to the established usage of such places.

I afterwards learnt that my wife had fainted immediately on my

apprehension, and continued for some minutes in violent hysterics, on

recovering from which our friend W—k—n had kindly conducted her home,

and consoled her at parting with the assurance that he would not sleep

till he had found out to what place I was conveyed, and done all in his

power to render my condition as tolerable as circumstances would admit.

But his inquiries were ineffectual, and it was not till the following

day, that he could obtain an interview with me.

CHAPTER VIII.

_Discover that I have been betrayed.—Examined at Bow-street,

and committed for Trial.—Sent to Newgate.—Prepare for my

Defence.—My Trial and Conviction._

About an hour after the officers had left me, they returned to the

watch-house, bringing in prisoner, a well-dressed gentleman in a state of

ebriety, accompanied by several of his friends, who it seemed, had been

taken in custody for riotous conduct at the Haymarket theatre. As soon as

they had given charge of this person, and again withdrawn, the gentleman,

whose friends had also taken their leave, seated himself near the fire,

and entered into conversation with me on the subject of his apprehension.

He informed me, that having in the beginning of the evening had a quarrel

with another gentleman in the boxes, and their altercation disturbing

the audience, he had been taken into custody by these officers as the

aggressor; but that having apologized for his conduct, and made his peace

with his opponent, he had been liberated, and the officers had suddenly

quitted him; that about ten o’clock, however, to his great surprise, the

two rascally constables (as he termed them,) had again apprehended him,

under colour of the original charge, and conveyed him to the watch-house;

and that in their way, they stated that they should have done so on his

first apprehension, but that they were suddenly sent for to the other

end of the town, for the express purpose of taking a notorious thief,

of whom they had received information! The gentleman here continued,

(little supposing he was speaking to the identical person,) “some

d⸺d house-breaker, or highwayman, I suppose. I don’t know who the

rascal was.” The reader may be sure I took no pains to inform him; but

commiserating his case, and condemning the base conduct of the officers,

we conversed together on indifferent subjects for about an hour, and

were then shewn to separate beds in the same room, where we were locked

up till morning. It now appeared evident that I had been betrayed; but

by whom, I am to this day ignorant; sometimes suspecting the landlord;

at others the young man I have before mentioned; and sometimes, one of

the company who sat at table with me; as I was afterwards informed that

the whole room being much alarmed at my sudden apprehension, and the

manner in which it took place, some one remarked that I must certainly

have been villanously betrayed. Upon which this man (whose name was Bill

White, otherwise, Conky-beau,) immediately changed colour, and said, “I

hope nobody suspects me, I certainly did leave the room, but it was only

for a few minutes, in order to get a little tobacco at the next shop.”

At all events, there must have been much expedition used, for I was not

above half an hour in the house, and the distance from thence to the

Haymarket theatre is at least a mile. Indeed the officers confessed to me

afterwards, that I had been _sold_, (as the phrase is,) but declared that

no bribe should induce them to disclose the party.

The ensuing morning, about ten, the officers conducted me to Bow-street,

where Mr. Justice Graham presided. On being put to the bar, I observed

Mr. Bilger, senior, and the perfidious pawnbroker, in waiting; the

former viewed me with attention, and seemed immediately convinced of my

identity, of which he informed the magistrate. Having then stated the

particulars of his charge, against me, (which I need not here repeat,)

the pawnbroker produced the fatal ring, stating that he received it

from a woman, whom I afterwards acknowledged to be my wife; he also

produced a pearl and amethyst broach, set in gold, which he deposed to

purchasing from me among some other articles of the like nature. Mr.

Bilger swore that he believed the former to be his property, and the

working jeweller, who had supplied the three rings for my inspection,

swore positively to its being one of them; as to the broach, Mr. Bilger

would not positively swear, but fully believed it to be the one he

lost. In this, however, he was mistaken; for I have already stated

that I kept that broach for my own wear, and it was at this moment in

pledge for one pound in the Borough; but I had, a few days previous to

my robbing Mr. Bilger, purloined, among other trinkets, from a shop

in the city, a broach so exactly similar, that on comparing the two

together, I was in doubt which to retain; but the pearls, in Bilger’s,

being rather larger, I preferred the latter, and disposed of the other

to Turner, as he had truly said. When asked if I had any defence to

offer, I merely answered that I was not the person, having never seen

Mr. Bilger or his shop in my life. Mr. Graham observed, the case was

so clear that he should immediately commit me; but having understood

that many jewellers, _&c._, who had been robbed, were in attendance to

identify me, he inquired for them; the officers, however, stated that

none were present, except a shopman of Mr. Chandler in Leicester-fields,

who had been a considerable sufferer; but on this young man viewing me,

he declared I was not the person who had been at his master’s shop;

in which, by-the-by, he was egregiously mistaken. The magistrate then

committed me for trial, on Mr. Bilger’s charge; and ordered that I should

be brought up again on that day se’ennight, (the 8th of February,) in

order that the different shopkeepers might have notice to attend. I was

now conveyed to Tothill-fields Bridewell, where I continued a week. My

first object was to establish a communication with my wife; but I was

afraid of suffering her to visit me, lest she might have been detained

as an accomplice. She, however, sent her sister to me daily, who brought

me every needful requisite for my use and comfort in the prison; and

among the rest, a change of apparel of a very different kind from that

in which I was apprehended. Having put on these clothes, I sent the

others back by the bearer; and the same day, a barber attending, whom I

had sent for to shave me, I requested him to cut off my whiskers, and

to crop my hair close. He did so, and I now cut so different a figure,

that no person could possibly identify me, unless intimately acquainted

with my features. Had I been enabled to take these measures before I

appeared at Bow-street, it is probable Mr. Bilger would not have ventured

to swear to me; but unfortunately they were adopted too late to render

me any essential service. When the officers came to the prison, and saw

the metamorphose I had undergone, they were, however, highly enraged;

charged the turnkeys with gross neglect of duty, and want of vigilance

in suffering the means to be admitted, and threatened to represent the

circumstances to the magistrate. I laughed heartily at their chagrin,

and said all I could to heighten their vexation. On the day appointed,

I was brought up for re-examination; but it seemed the tradesmen who

were expected, had not thought it worth their while to attend, for none

made their appearance. Mr. Graham viewed me with evident surprise,

demanding why I was so differently dressed, and what I had done with my

whiskers[48]. I answered, that I wore whatever I found most convenient

to myself, and as to whiskers, I never had any. His Worship stared at

this assertion, and declared, that when he first examined me, I had very

large whiskers, and my hair dressed in the fashionable mode. “However,”

added he, “I see through your design; but it has been executed too late,

and this stratagem will not now serve your turn.” I was then finally

committed to Newgate, as the Session was to commence on that day week

(the 15th). My unhappy wife was waiting the issue of my examination, in

the neighbourhood of the public office, and on learning the result, took

coach, and was at the door of Newgate as soon as myself. The officers

who escorted me having retired, both my wife and I were very kindly

received by the principal turnkey, who instantly recognised us as Mr. and

Mrs. Hardy, and expressed his concern at my so soon becoming again an

inmate of Newgate. He then ordered me to have a light iron put on; and

requesting to know what ward I wished to go into, I chose the same I had

before been a member of, and to this room my wife accompanied me. After

receiving the compliments of such of the prisoners as were before my

fellow-lodgers, (among whom were the two brothers,) all of whom vied with

each other in contributing to our accommodation, we partook of some tea;

and having been a fortnight separated from my beloved wife, I would not

suffer her to quit me until the next morning.

I had now but a few days to prepare for my approaching trial; and though

I entertained no hopes of escaping conviction, I determined to employ a

counsel; and who so proper (thought I,) as my good friend Mr. Knapp, who

had so adroitly brought me off on a late occasion. I, therefore, drew a

brief, in which I dwelt strongly on some particular points both of law

and fact, and enclosed it, with the customary fee, in a letter to that

gentleman, reminding him of my being his client in November session, and

trusting he would do all in his power to extricate me from my present

embarrassment. Mr. Knapp assured my wife that I might depend on his best

exertions, and I now waited with patience for the event. My affectionate

partner was unremitting in her attention to me, being never absent but

when she had occasion to look into our affairs at home and her sister

having undertaken the care of our house till my fate was determined,

she slept with me every night, as I had reason to fear I should soon

be removed to a place where I could not have this indulgence. It was

something singular that my poor friend Bromley, whom I had not seen for

two months before, was brought into Newgate the very day after myself,

being committed on a capital charge of house-breaking. Being, however,

unable to pay the fees required on the master’s side, where I was

situated, he was obliged to put up with the common side, as it is termed;

but the two yards being contiguous, I had an opportunity of seeing him

every day.

On Wednesday the 15th of February, 1809, I was taken down to the

sessions-house for trial; and four persons having been successively

tried for capital offences, all of whom were convicted, I was next put

to the bar, and stood indicted “for feloniously stealing, on the 9th of

December, _&c._, a double-rowed brilliant half-hoop ring, value 16_l._

16_s._; a diamond ring for hair, value 9_l._ 9_s._; a rose diamond and

ruby ring, with serpent-chased shank, value 6_l._ 6_s._; and a pearl

and amethyst broach, value 2_l._ 2_s._, the goods of Matthias Bilger

the elder, and Matthias Bilger the younger, privately in their shop.”

The reader will observe that I was here indicted upon a certain act of

parliament, which makes it a capital offence to steal “goods, wares, or

merchandise, to the value of five shillings, privately in a shop.” My

indictment having been read over, I looked round for Mr. Knapp, whom I

expected to have found prepared with his brief; but not observing him

among the other counsellors, I inquired of the turnkeys near me, who

informed me that he was not in court. I then requested of the judge that

my trial might be deferred, on account of the absence of my counsel. The

court inquiring who was my counsel, I answered, Mr. Knapp; upon which Mr.

Gurney, another counsellor, rising from his seat, said, “My lord, I am

authorized to plead for Mr. Knapp.” This satisfied me, not doubting but

Mr. Gurney had my brief, and would do all in his power; and I suffered

the trial to proceed. The indictment having been read as I have before

described, to my no small surprise, Mr. Raine, the counsellor who had

been retained by my prosecutors, rose, and proceeded to state the case to

the jury; in doing which, according to custom, he gave so clear a view of

the facts attending my offence, and so artfully and eloquently coloured

the whole, that I saw the jury had more than half convicted me already,

and would only listen to the subsequent evidence as a requisite matter

of form. The counsel concluded his statement with this observation; “If,

gentlemen, these facts are clearly proved to you in evidence, (as I

persuade myself they will be,) no doubt can remain in your minds as to

the verdict you will give.” He then proceeded to examine the witnesses.

Mr. Bilger, senior, deposed what the reader is already in possession of,

with these additions; that, a few minutes after my quitting the shop,

he missed the articles named in the indictment; and that having, on my

second visit, received my final instructions for a ring, and the address

I have before mentioned, he went himself next day to Curzon-street, and

found No. 13 to be an empty house! Mr. Bilger having concluded, and Mr.

Gurney not offering to cross-examine him, conformable to the suggestions

in my brief, and as I fully expected he would, I was extremely surprised,

and was soon afterwards convinced that he had not received any brief

at all, or had any grounds to plead upon. I, therefore, requested to

ask Mr. Bilger a question, namely, “Why he did not apprehend me on the

Tuesday night, on which he swears I came the second time to his shop,

after having missed the property on the preceding Friday, and suspected

me for it?” _Ans._ “My lord, he had so much the appearance of a gentleman

that I thought I might be mistaken. He was very differently dressed

then from what he is now. He wore whiskers, and an eye-glass, and was

very nicely powdered[49]. My son went to the door in order to get a

constable, but he observed an accomplice.” (What Mr. Bilger meant by

this last assertion, or what he would deduce from it, I have no idea.)

The next evidence was that of Turner the pawnbroker; and I had in my

brief given such hints, that I hoped Mr. Knapp would have effectually

put this fellow out of countenance, by making him confess that he had,

at his own request, repeatedly bought such things of me. But here Mr.

Gurney was still silent, and I saw that it would be useless for me to ask

Turner any questions. The working-jeweller was then called to depose to

the ring, which he did in the strongest terms. Mr. Gurney barely asked

him, if he could undertake to swear that he had not made rings exactly

similar for other shops? He replied, that he was positive it was one of

the three which he sent to Mr. Bilger on the 9th of December. Next came

the scoundrel who took me, George Donaldson, a constable of St. Martin’s

parish; who stated that himself and Smith, one of the Bow-street patrole,

from information they had received, apprehended me at the Butchers’ Arms

in Clare-market, in company with a great many notorious thieves. The

evidence for the prosecution being now closed, Mr. Gurney inquired of Mr.

Bilger, senior, how many partners he had; who answered none but his son.

Then, what other persons were in the shop, (meaning assistants,) besides

his son and himself, when he lost his property? _Ans._ “Only a porter,

who was cleaning some plate at the further end of the counter, at some

distance from where the prisoner stood.” All that Mr. Gurney, therefore,

said or asked, any other person might have said without reference to

a brief; and having put these simple questions, or at least put them

in a simple and careless manner, Mr. Gurney sat himself down. The last

question, indeed, was of a most important nature, and if properly

handled, and enforced with becoming spirit, would, I have little doubt,

have rendered me the most essential service. To explain my meaning, I

must briefly expound a point of law, with which nine readers out of ten

may be unacquainted. The Act, under which I was indicted, provides, or is

interpreted to mean, that where there are two or more persons employed

as shopmen, _&c._, it is not sufficient for one alone to attend upon

the prisoner’s trial; but that every one, if there was a dozen, must

personally appear, to swear that he or she did not see or suspect the

prisoner to commit the act of robbery; because the law (always favourable

to the culprit,) presumes, that if one person out of the whole number

is absent, that very person might possibly have suspected the prisoner;

and then such suspicion, however slight, if confessed, proves that the

robbery was not effected so privately as to come within the meaning of

the Act; consequently, there is an end of the capital part of the charge,

and the prisoner can only be transported for seven years. The reader will

see, in the next Chapter, my reason for being thus particular in this

explanation. The judge now summed up the evidence, and what was most

extraordinary, I was not even called on for my defence; so much were the

court prejudiced against me, from the eloquent opening of the learned

counsel, the clear and decisive evidence of the witnesses; and, perhaps,

(above all,) from some little private intimation they had received of my

real character and past life. However, as I felt that no defence I could

make, was likely to prevent my conviction, I was not much concerned on

the occasion; and the jury after two minutes’ consideration returned the

fatal verdict of “Guilty.” This verdict was no sooner pronounced, than

the villain Donaldson, standing up in the witness-box, said, “My lord,

I think it my duty to inform the court what I know of the prisoner at

the bar. I have been given to understand that he is a very old offender,

and that he has been but a few months returned from Botany-Bay!” At this

malicious address, there was a general murmur of indignation throughout

the whole court; and Mr. Gurney (to do him justice,) rose with much

warmth, saying, “Mr. Donaldson, you ought to be ashamed of yourself

for having made such a disclosure; you acknowledge you only have this

circumstance from hearsay, and had you known it to be true, after the

prisoner being capitally convicted, it is most shameful and unmanly

conduct of you to mention it.” The malicious rascal was justly confounded

at this rebuff, and sneaked away amidst the execrations of the auditors.

After my conviction I was double-ironed, and detained in the dock until

the evening, my trial having occupied about two hours; and at eight

o’clock, I was escorted to the press-yard, and locked up in one of

the condemned cells. My poor wife remained in the ward of the prison,

to which I belonged, until she saw me pass by, and I had only time to

console her in a few words through the bars of the window, and take leave

of her till the morning.

CHAPTER IX.

_Account of my Companion and Fellow-sufferer in the condemned

Cells.—His unhappy Fate.—I receive Sentence of Death.—Am

reprieved, and soon afterwards sent on board the Hulks.—Some

Account of those Receptacles of human Misery._

Besides the four men convicted the same day as myself, there were in the

cells several others who had been cast for death the preceding session;

and, the recorder’s report not having yet been made, they still remained

under sentence, ignorant of the fate which awaited them, but they were

in expectation of its being decided every succeeding levee-day. It

is customary to confine two condemned prisoners in each cell, and I

was destined to be the companion of a man named Nicholls, his former

bed-fellow having suffered about a week previous to my conviction. On

the turnkeys, who attended me, opening the door of his cell, the unhappy

man (Nicholls,) was discovered on his knees, with a book in his hand,

and evidently a prey to doubt and terror. My conductors apologized for

disturbing him, saying, they had only brought him a companion, and

hoped he would find consolation in my society. Poor Nicholls answered

in broken accents, “My God! I was a little alarmed,—I heard the keys

coming,—I thought it was the report.—What?—do you expect it to-night?”

The turnkeys replied, that from the lateness of the hour, it was not

probable; but begged him to compose himself, and hope for the best. They

then re-locked the doors, and left us. This unfortunate person had been

convicted of selling forged bank-notes, through the treachery of a man,

who, to save himself, had given information, and betrayed him by a signal

to the police-officers, at the moment of the negotiation taking place. As

he was known to have carried on this illegal and dangerous traffic to a

great extent in the town of Birmingham, where he resided, the Bank were

determined to make an example of him; particularly as he had obstinately

refused to save his own life by disclosing, as he could have done, most

important information on the subject, so as to lead to the detection

of the fabricators. This being the case of Nicholls, he had no hope of

mercy being extended to him; and was consequently in hourly dread of the

awful fiat which was to seal his doom, and consign him to a shameful and

premature death. On being left alone with him, I forgot for a moment my

own situation, and feeling for that of my ill-fated companion, whose

case I already knew, I exerted myself to console and sooth him; not

by raising in him hopes for which I knew there was no foundation, but

by exhorting him to look forward to “another and a better world;” to

comfort himself with the reflection that his crime, (though punished with

death on account of its injurious tendency in a commercial country,) was

not in a moral sense, or in the eye of God, of so black a nature as to

preclude him from the hope of mercy at that awful tribunal “before which

the judges of this world must themselves be tried.” By these and the

like suggestions, I so far succeeded as to compose him pretty much; and

having undressed ourselves, we went to bed. He then requested me to read

a few chapters to him, and earnestly asked my opinion on some particular

passages in the New Testament, which applied to his situation, and of the

real meaning of which he anxiously wished to be resolved. We had read

and reasoned on these topics until St. Paul’s clock struck ten, and were

on the point of composing ourselves to sleep, that “balm of hurt minds,”

when we were alarmed by the rattling of keys, and the sound of voices.

I endeavoured to calm the agitation of Mr. Nicholls, by supposing that

another unhappy man had been convicted, and was about to be introduced

to the cells; but he declared it must be the report, and fell on his

knees before the cell-door. The footsteps approaching, our door was

slowly unlocked, and the distressing agony of my companion was now

indescribable. Mr. Newman, the jailor, entered as quietly as possible,

and taking Nicholls by the hand, while he himself was evidently

affected, he said, “Mr. Nicholls,—the report has been made, and—(here

he would fain have paused,) I am sorry to inform you it has been

unfavourable.” _Nicholls._ “Lord, have mercy on me! God’s will be done!

I expected it, Mr. Newman,—it is no more than I expected.—When is it,—to

suffer, Mr. Newman?” The latter replied, “on Wednesday next.” _Nicholls._

“I could have wished, Mr. Newman, for a little longer time,—I’m not

prepared to die,—I have some worldly affairs to settle,—but,—God help

me!—I hope for more mercy from Him than the gentlemen of the bank have

shewn me.” Mr. Newman then assuring him of every attention in his power,

commended him to my care, and took a tender leave of us both, promising

to see Nicholls again in the morning. The reader will easily perceive

I had not the prospect of a very agreeable night before me; my own

situation was deplorable enough, but the distress of my unfortunate

bed-fellow overpowered every other consideration but that of pity and

grief for him. I had now my task to go through again, and to enforce

all I repeated with greater energy and stronger assurances. At length,

exhausted by contending passions, poor Nicholls fell asleep, and I had

then recourse to my philosophy for self-consolation.

The next day, Mr. Newman requested, as a favour, that I would continue to

bear the unfortunate Nicholls company during the week he had to live,

and in this request the latter also joined; so that I could not without

inhumanity refuse to comply, and in this melancholy interval I omitted

no opportunity of contributing to his comfort. The night before his

execution, I also, by his own desire, sat up with him: a very worthy and

devout man, of his acquaintance, accompanied by two other friends, also

attended him; and the greater part of the night was passed in reading,

exhortation, and singing hymns. Poor Nicholls was, however, in a very low

and desponding state, and evidently dreaded the approach of death. About

three o’clock he was advised to lie down, and sunk into a slumber from

which he did not wake till summoned by the keeper about six to descend to

the press-yard, the sheriffs, _&c._, being shortly expected. I now took a

solemn farewell of him, and was removed to another cell. At eight o’clock

the doleful sound of the tolling bell announced the awful ceremony, and

he was a few minutes afterwards launched into eternity; a woman named

Margaret Barrington, for forging and uttering a seaman’s will, suffering

with him. The fate of this unhappy man, who was of a most inoffensive

and gentle disposition, and left a numerous family to bewail his loss,

affected me much.

I had now a new companion assigned me, a young man about my own age,

who was convicted the day after myself, under what is called “Lord

Ellenborough’s Act.” His crime was shooting at a person who had

attempted to apprehend him in the act of robbery; but his pistol flashed

in the pan, and no injury whatever had taken place. However, the nature

of the offence excluded him also from any hopes of mercy, so that I had

the fortune to be placed in a second unpleasant situation, and probably

for a number of weeks. As to myself, I had no reason to doubt of being

reprieved, very few persons suffering death at that time of day, except

for most heinous crimes, or robbery attended with acts of violence.

This young man, ’tis true, was a much more tolerable companion than

his predecessor; he was always chearful and easy; declaring (although

he expected to suffer,) that, as he had never seriously injured man,

woman, or child, he was not afraid to die; but rather happy at the

prospect of being released from a troublesome world. He had formerly been

transported, but made his escape from the hulks; and the miseries he had

witnessed and endured onboard those horrid receptacles, he asserted to be

such that he preferred death to a reprieve, which might subject him to

years of similar suffering.

About eight days after my conviction, I was surprised at being summoned

to the main-gate of the prison, to attend a gentleman who inquired for

me. This person proved to be an attorney named Humphries, who, addressing

me, stated that he called by desire of counsellor Knapp, to inform me

that he (Mr. Knapp,) was sorry he had not been present at my trial, and

that he had discovered a point of law, of which he hoped to avail himself

so far as to obtain a revocation of my sentence; that he intended to

submit this point to the judge who tried me, and had instructed him (Mr.

Humphries,) to prepare a petition for the purpose, as it was Mr. Knapp’s

opinion that I ought not to have been capitally convicted; but that

nothing could be done till after the close of the session, and I must

receive the sentence of death as a matter of form; adding, that I might

make myself perfectly easy, as there was no danger of my suffering. I

now inquired of Mr. Humphries, of what nature was the point or objection

in question; but this limb of the law, assuming an air of importance,

answered that it would be useless to explain it to me, as, if he did, I

should not comprehend it! I was, however, convinced it related to the

absence of the porter who was present in Bilger’s shop, and who ought

to have attended my trial, for the reasons assigned in the preceding

Chapter. I, therefore, smiled at the mean opinion he entertained of my

understanding, but replied, that it was very well; I should depend on

Mr. Knapp and on his (Mr. Humphries’,) good offices: and here ended

our interview. For brevity’s sake, I shall inform the reader at once,

that I never derived any benefit from the intimation conveyed to me by

Humphries, although I several times wrote both to him and Mr. Knapp. But

I rather think it was a trick of the former, (who is a designing artful

pettifogger,) with a view of extorting money from me, on pretence of

drawing up petitions or other documents in my behalf. I had, however,

seen too much of the world to be the dupe of an Old Bailey solicitor. Two

or three days after this event, the session being concluded, the whole of

the prisoners convicted during their progress, were as usual taken down

to the court to receive sentence. Myself and the other five men, together

with two women, were first put to the bar. When asked, in my turn, what I

had to say, “why judgment of death should not pass upon me?” I answered,

that my counsel Mr. Knapp having intimated that he had discovered a legal

objection to my conviction, I humbly hoped his Lordship would be pleased

to respite the judgment. The recorder replied, “Prisoner, your request

cannot be complied with; if your counsel had any thing to offer in arrest

of judgment, he should have done so previous to the close of the session.

I must, therefore, pass sentence upon you.” In this observation, I knew

the recorder to be perfectly right; and though I was induced to make

the trial, I had no hopes of gaining any thing by my motion; and I was

now more fully convinced that either Mr. Knapp, or Mr. Humphries, or

both, had deceived me, and that I had been altogether very shamefully

neglected. His Lordship then proceeded to pass the awful sentence in

the usual form, which he prefaced with a very pathetic and impressive

address, that drew tears from the surrounding auditors. The other

prisoners were then put to the bar in rotation, and variously sentenced;

and among those transported for seven years, was poor Bromley, who,

though capitally indicted, had the good fortune to be convicted of simple

felony only. Thus we were both a second time convicted the same session,

as if his fate was involved in mine. He was, a few weeks afterwards, sent

on board the same hulk at Portsmouth, in which he had before served seven

years; and as he never came to this colony, he will, (if he survives,)

in a few months be discharged, and once more return to the scene of our

former exploits. I sincerely hope that his past sufferings will, however,

warn him to avoid a continuance of his guilty courses, and to amend his

life.

The recorder’s report to the King being, on some accounts, delayed,

I continued eleven weeks in the cells, in which time the number of

condemned persons had increased to eighteen! At length, the report was

made. About eight o’clock on Friday night, the 3d of May, Mr. Newman

entered the press-yard; and, as myself and companion listened with

palpitating hearts on their approach, we heard one of the turnkeys utter

the words “Cook and Lowe.” I confess that at the moment, I was under

considerable alarm; which the reader will allow to be natural, when he

considers that my fate was still doubtful, and that my life or death

depended on a single word from the keeper, who came to announce it.

Hearing our two names particularly mentioned, as he advanced towards our

cell, was also a circumstance calculated to increase our mutual terror.

At length the door was unlocked; and by this I knew that one of us, at

least, was doomed to suffer, because they always visit first those who

are ordered for execution. Mr. Newman entering with a grave countenance,

addressed poor Cook in nearly the same terms he had done Nicholls on a

former occasion; then turning to me, he said, “Lowe is respited.” My

unhappy companion received the melancholy news, as he had always declared

he should, with a cheerful aspect, nor appeared in the least dismayed.

The jailer having withdrawn, Cook, after an inward struggle, assured

me he felt perfectly reconciled; and after I had read to and consoled

him for a short time, retired to bed, and slept apparently with more

composure than usual. The next morning myself and the four others who

had been reprieved, (poor Cook being the only one to suffer,) were, as

usual, ordered to return to our respective wards; but Cook begged so

earnestly that I would not quit him till the fatal day, that I could

not avoid complying. In this period, his courage and resignation never

once failed him. The same worthy man who had attended Nicholls, passed

the last night with him, and I felt a melancholy pleasure in bearing

them company. Cook, however, was so cheerful and well-prepared, that he

slept profoundly the greatest part of the night, and, on being awaked

at the usual hour, appeared equally serene and happy. I obtained leave

to descend with him to the press-yard, where he washed himself, brushed

his coat, and seemed pleased at his approaching release (as he termed

it). I then, at his earnest request, accompanied him to the chapel,

where he received the sacrament, of which I partook. Some breakfast

having been prepared for him, he ate and drank with every appearance of

a good appetite; after which, his irons being knocked off, and the hour

approaching, I took an affectionate farewell of the poor fellow, who

declared to me at parting, that he should go out with as much pleasure

as if he was going to a fair or a race, and that he had rather die

than live. I then left him, and repaired to my own ward, through the

windows of which I saw him pass by to execution; and he really appeared

to verify the promise he had made me; nodding, as he passed, to his

fellow-prisoners, and having as fine a colour in his cheeks as ever I

saw a man. I was informed that he preserved this disposition to the

last moment, and died regretted by all who witnessed his deportment.

As I now knew the consequence of my being respited, namely, that I was

to be transported for life, I became anxious to leave England by the

first ship for this colony, as I was not in circumstances to subsist

for any length of time in a prison; and I wished, if possible, to avoid

going to the hulks, as I had been fortunate enough to do on my first

transportation. My wife, also, who had paid me the most dutiful attention

since my confinement, was earnestly desirous to accompany me in my exile;

and, with that view, she waited on a gentleman to whom I referred her,

soliciting his interest to obtain that favour; but, although he used

every effort, the application was refused, she having no family, and the

secretary of state having set his face against such an indulgence, on

account of the bad reports received of those women who had already been

suffered to go out free with their husbands. I was equally unsuccessful

in my application to be sent out by the ship Anne, which was on the

point of sailing. At length my wife received a private intimation that

I should be removed to the hulks the next morning; in consequence of

which, my mother and sisters, whom I immediately summoned, came to take

leave of me. I had only acquainted them with my misfortune since my being

respited, and they were of course equally astonished and grieved at the

news. My wife remained with me that night, and at four o’clock in the

morning, myself and eleven others were conveyed by water on board the

Retribution hulk at Woolwich.

I had now a new scene of misery to contemplate; and, of all the

shocking scenes I had ever beheld, this was the most distressing. There

were confined in this floating dungeon nearly six hundred men, most of

them double-ironed; and the reader may conceive the horrible effects

arising from the continual rattling of chains, the filth and vermin

naturally produced by such a crowd of miserable inhabitants, the oaths

and execrations constantly heard among them; and above all, from the

shocking necessity of associating and communicating more or less with so

depraved a set of beings. On arriving on board, we were all immediately

stripped, and washed in large tubs of water, then, after putting on each

a suit of coarse slop-clothing, we were ironed, and sent below, our own

clothes being taken from us, and detained till we could sell or otherwise

dispose of them, as no person is exempted from the obligation to wear

the ship-dress. On descending the hatch-way, no conception can be formed

of the scene which presented itself. I shall not attempt to describe it;

but nothing short of a descent to the infernal regions can be at all

worthy of a comparison with it. I soon met with many of my old Botany

Bay acquaintances, who were all eager to offer me their friendship and

services,—that is, with a view to rob me of what little I had; for in

this place there is no other motive or subject for ingenuity. All former

friendships or connexions are dissolved, and a man here will rob his

best benefactor, or even mess-mate, of an article worth one halfpenny.

Every morning, at seven o’clock, all the convicts capable of work, or,

in fact, all who are capable of getting into the boats, are taken ashore

to the Warren, in which the royal arsenal and other public buildings are

situated, and are there employed at various kinds of labour, some of them

very fatiguing; and while so employed, each gang of sixteen, or twenty

men, is watched and directed by a fellow called a guard. These guards

are most commonly of the lowest class of human beings; wretches devoid

of all feeling; ignorant in the extreme, brutal by nature, and rendered

tyrannical and cruel by the consciousness of the power they possess;

no others, but such as I have described, would hold the situation,

their wages being not more than a day-labourer would earn in London.

They invariably carry a large and ponderous stick, with which, without

the smallest provocation, they will fell an unfortunate convict to the

ground, and frequently repeat their blows long after the poor sufferer is

insensible. At noon the working party return on board to dinner, and at

one again go on shore, where they labour till near sun-set. On returning

on board in the evening, all hands are mustered by a roll, and the whole

being turned down below, the hatches are put over them, and secured for

the night. As to the food, the stipulated ration is very scanty, but of

even part of that they are defrauded. Their provisions being supplied by

contractors, and not by Government, are of the worst kind, such as would

not be considered eatable or wholesome elsewhere; and both the weight

and measure are always deficient. The allowance of bread is said to be

about twenty ounces per day. Three days in the week they have about four

ounces of cheese for dinner, and the other four days a pound of beef. The

breakfast is invariably boiled barley, of the coarsest kind imaginable;

and of this the pigs of the hulk come in for a third part, because it is

so nauseous that nothing but downright hunger will enable a man to eat

it. For supper, they have, on banyan days, burgoo, of as good a quality

as the barley, and which is similarly disposed of; and on meat days,

the water in which the beef was boiled, is thickened with barley, and

forms a mess called “Smiggins,” of a more detestable nature than either

of the two former! The reader may conceive that I do not exaggerate,

when I state, that among the convicts the common price of these several

eatables, is,—for a day’s allowance of beef, one halfpenny;—ditto, of

cheese, one halfpenny;—ditto, of bread, three-halfpence; but the cheese

is most commonly so bad, that they throw it away. It is manufactured, I

believe, of skimmed milk for this particular contract. The beef generally

consists of old bulls, or cows who have died of age or famine; the

least trace of fat is considered a phenomenon, and it is far inferior

upon the whole to good horse-flesh. I once saw the prisoners throw

the whole day’s supply overboard the moment it was hoisted out of the

boat, and for this offence they were severely flogged. The friends of

these unhappy persons are not allowed to come on board, but must remain

alongside during their visit; the prisoners are, it is true, suffered

to go into their boat, but a guard is placed within hearing of their

conversation, and if a friend or parent has come one hundred miles,

they are not allowed above ten minutes’ interview; so that instead of

consolation, the visit only excites regret at the parties being so

suddenly torn asunder. All letters, too, written by prisoners, must be

delivered unsealed to the chief mate for his inspection, before they are

sent ashore; and such as he thinks obnoxious, are of course suppressed.

In like manner, all letters received from the post-office are opened and

scrutinized. If I were to attempt a full description of the miseries

endured in these ships, I could fill a volume; but I shall sum up all

by stating, that besides robbery from each other, which is as common as

cursing and swearing, I witnessed among the prisoners themselves, during

the twelvemonth I remained with them, one deliberate murder, for which

the perpetrator was executed at Maidstone, and one suicide; and that

unnatural crimes are openly committed.

CHAPTER X.

_I embark a second Time for New South Wales.—Indulgently

treated by the Captain.—My Employment during the Voyage.—Arrive

at Port Jackson after an Absence of Four Years.—My Reception

from Governor Macquarrie.—Assigned by Lot to a Settler.—His

brutal Treatment of me.—I find means to quit his Service, and

return to Sydney._

From the description I have briefly given of the hulks, the reader will

easily believe I ardently longed for the moment which was to release me

from so miserable an existence. That happy day at length arrived. On the

15th of June, 1810, I was removed from the Retribution, in company with

fifty-four others, to Long-reach, a few miles below Woolwich, where we

were put on board the Indian, which ship had recently been fitted at

Deptford for the reception of two hundred prisoners. The next day we

sailed for Gravesend, and at this place I anxiously hoped for a farewell

visit from my wife, to whom I had written from Woolwich on the morning

of my embarkation, acquainting her with my approaching departure. She

had attended me at least once a month, during my stay at Woolwich, and

supported me as well as her circumstances would permit. We remained

at Gravesend three days, but she did not appear; and in our progress

from thence to Spithead, we took on board at the Nore forty-five more

convicts from the Zealand hulk at Sheerness. In a few days we arrived

at Spithead, where we received one hundred prisoners from the hulks at

Portsmouth, and Langston harbour; soon after which I had a letter from my

wife, stating that she had arrived at Gravesend on the evening of the day

our ship departed, and brought with her a supply of the most necessary

articles for my comfort; that on finding, to her grief, that she was too

late, she had been advised to follow the ship to Sheerness; which she, in

fact, did, and arrived at that place on the very day after we had taken

in the prisoners, and immediately proceeded on our voyage, without even

coming to an anchor. Thus she was again fatally disappointed; and having

incurred this expense, and endured much fatigue, she had been obliged to

return to town; but added, that if possible, she would see me before we

sailed from Portsmouth. This, however, she was not enabled to accomplish,

her health and circumstances being both unfavourable to the undertaking.

But I received, on the 18th of July, when we were quite ready for, and in

hourly expectation of, sailing, a letter from her, in which she expressed

her concern at not being in a condition to visit me; but gave me advice

that she had packed up some clothes and other necessaries, of which

she enclosed a list; and that the trunk containing them would arrive

by the Gosport coach at a certain time and place. I had not received

this letter from the hands of our captain above half an hour, when the

Lion of 64 made the signal to weigh; and from that moment no boat was

permitted to leave the ship, so that I went to sea without the smallest

comfort for the voyage, or any wearing apparel except the suit of slops

I had on. We accordingly got under weigh immediately, and sailed, in

company with the Lion, and the Chichester store-ship. The former had on

board the Persian ambassador and suite, and was bound for Bombay. The

latter was destined for St. Helena, and we were to accompany them (under

convoy,) as far as the latitude of the Cape of Good Hope. We were no

sooner at sea, than Captain Barclay, who had been induced to notice me

from the recommendation of a female passenger who was going out to New

South Wales, and who (singular to relate,) had actually come home with

me in H. M. Ship Buffalo; the Captain, I say, from her representation of

my abilities, and from an application I made to him by letter, treated

me with peculiar kindness. I was released from irons, and appointed

to assist the steward in the issue of provisions, _&c._, both to the

prisoners, the ship’s company, and the troops. As the steward himself was

not very expert, and an indifferent scholar, I had the chief management

of the whole business, and the arrangement of all the victualling

accounts. From the experience I had formerly gained, I was perfectly at

home in this situation, and gave satisfaction to all parties. I also

wrote the ship’s log-book, and executed many services with my pen for

Captain Barclay himself. The effects of this favourable distinction and

confidence were, that I had every personal comfort the ship afforded

during our passage, lived tolerably well, and accumulated a decent change

of clothing to equip myself on our arrival at Port-Jackson. Nothing but

the usual routine of occurrences befel us in this voyage. We touched

first at Madeira, and afterwards at Rio-de-Janeiro, but our stay at both

places was short. The day after we quitted the latter, in company with

our Commodore and the store-ship; both these vessels so far outsailed us,

that we lost sight of them and separated, continuing our course alone

without interruption, and, with tolerable expedition, to the end of our

voyage. On the 16th of December, we anchored in Sydney-cove, from which

place I had been absent nearly four years.

I soon learnt that the news of my second transportation, and in fact of

my principal adventures in London, had preceded my own arrival; and that,

consequently, no surprise was excited by my appearance, I also heard, to

my mortification, that from the changes which had taken place in public

affairs since my departure from the colony, most of the departments

were filled by strangers, from whom I could expect no indulgence; and

that not only these officers, but the Governor himself, had conceived

a violent prejudice against those unfortunate and misguided persons,

who by a renewal of their vicious courses on returning to their native

country, subject themselves to a second disgraceful banishment, and

seem thereby to indicate that they are incapable of reformation, and

systematically depraved. From this intimation I had reason to expect

a cool reception; whereas, during my former residence in the colony,

I witnessed many instances of persons who returned under the sentence

of the law, being most cordially received, and preferred to any vacant

appointment much sooner than a stranger. On the 24th of December, I was

landed with the rest of the prisoners, and the whole of us were drawn

up in the jail-yard for the Governor’s inspection. It seems I had been

particularly pointed out to his Excellency; for on approaching me, he

asked me several questions respecting my employment under Governor King,

and concluded with desiring Mr. Nicholls, the superintendent, to dispose

of me at present to the Hawkesbury. His Excellency, however, paused a

few moments before coming to this decision, and I was in hopes he had

an idea of giving me a clerical employment. The Governor then added,

that if I behaved well, something might in time be done for me, or to

that effect. I was much disappointed on this occasion, as I too well

knew the hardships I should have to encounter, if sent up the country

and assigned to a settler. However, it was in vain to murmur, and about

fifty of us were immediately conveyed by water to Parramatta, from whence

we walked next day to Hawkesbury. On arriving at the town of Windsor,

the settlers having been summoned by the magistrates, and there being a

greater number of applicants for men servants than there were prisoners

to dispose of, our names were written on tickets, and intermixed with

a sufficient number of blanks, (we being the prizes at the disposal of

Dame Fortune,) and then each settler in turn drew a ticket, which on

being opened, published the good or ill luck of the drawer. It was my

fate to be drawn by a settler called “Big Ben,” and with him I quitted

the scene of action, and prepared to remove my little baggage to the

farm of my new master. As I had been intimately acquainted with this

man, and in fact with every inhabitant of Hawkesbury, when I formerly

officiated as clerk to Mr. Baker, the store-keeper, I flattered myself

that he would treat me with more kindness, or at least with less severity

than a total stranger; and every one who recollected me, declared I had

been fortunate in getting such a master; and that Ben, on the other

hand, could not have drawn a man more eminently qualified to render

him essential service; as, although his agricultural and commercial

speculations were both extensive, he was himself perfectly illiterate,

and obliged to hire a free man to attend him at stated times, and arrange

his books. But I soon found, to my sorrow, that I had little reason for

self-congratulation. ’Tis true, this ignorant and good-for-nothing fellow

was glad to avail himself of my talents, and thereby save the expense

he had before incurred; but he thought it too much to support me in a

ration of provisions in return for my services, though I should have

been satisfied therewith. His avarice was such, that he expected me to

act in the double capacity of his clerk and labourer; and he accordingly

measured out the prescribed portion of ground which he required me to

break up with the hoe, well knowing I had not been accustomed to hard

labour, and that I was in fact incapable of the task. My remonstrances

produced the most unfeeling replies on his part, accompanied with threats

of getting me flogged, and every other species of tyrannical persecution.

This wretch, though now possessed of thousands, was a few years ago one

of the poorest objects in the colony, and as defective in bodily as

in mental endowments; nor was his present opulence so much the effect

of laudable industry, as of a natural low cunning he possessed, which

qualified him to take advantage of floods, temporary scarcities, and

other casual events; and becoming an adept in the arts of monopoly and

extortion, he by degrees attained the rank of a first-rate settler, and,

in the opinion of his dependants, but much more so in his own, is a man

of consequence. His late prosperity has rendered him over-bearing and

cruel to his inferiors (I mean in fortune,) while he is meanly servile

to his superiors. In fact, the old proverb “Set a beggar on horseback,”

_&c._, was never more aptly applied than to “Big Ben.” According to

the lately-established custom, I had been assigned to this brute,

by indenture, for three years; but the misery of my situation daily

increasing, I determined to try every method of obtaining my deliverance

from his power. After struggling with many hardships for about five

weeks, during which I was generally employed at some laborious work in

the field, or in drudgery about the house, from morning till evening,

and sleeping in a barn over-run with vermin at night, I at length

found means, through the friendly aid of an acquaintance, to escape

from the hands of my persecutor, though much against his will; and the

reader may judge of the malignity of his disposition by the following

circumstance. I must premise that I could get away by no other means than

counterfeiting sickness; in consequence of which I was ordered (by the

humanity of the resident surgeon,) to the general hospital at Sydney. It

would appear that Benn[50] suspected this stratagem, for, after trying

all he could to obstruct my success, he used these remarkable words at

parting, “Aye, you may go;—but if you are six months in the hospital,

I’ll have you again when you come out. I know you’re of no use to me,

but I’ll keep you, if it’s only to torment you.” However, as his avarice

would not allow him to send a fortnight’s ration with me to the hospital,

(in which case he might have reclaimed me had I been then discharged,)

I knew myself to be effectually free from his further persecution; and

I had soon afterwards the pleasure to hear that he had applied for, and

obtained, another man in my room. Indeed, so great was my aversion to

this unfeeling monster, that I was determined to endure corporal or other

punishment rather than have returned to him: but surely, the threat he

used on my leaving him, ought, when made known, to have precluded him

from ever having it in his power to realize so hellish an idea!

CHAPTER XI.

_Appointed an Overseer.—Determine to reform my Life, and become

a new Man.—All my good Intentions rendered unavailing by an

unforeseen and unavoidable Misfortune.—I become a Victim to

Prejudice and the Depravity of a Youth in Years, but a Veteran

in Iniquity.—I am banished to the Coal River._

After a month’s confinement in the hospital I was discharged and

transferred to the town-gang, in which, however, I laboured but a few

weeks; for a deputy-overseer of the jail-gang being wanted, Mr. Nicholls,

the superintendent, requested me to undertake the office, which, he

observed, would be an introduction to something better, if I behaved with

propriety. I, therefore, gladly accepted the offer, although neither the

situation was lucrative, nor its duties agreeable. I had, on landing from

the Indian, made a firm and solemn resolution never again to deviate from

the strictest probity, or to subject myself any more to a repetition

of those sufferings which are the inevitable consequence of irregular

conduct. Knowing, by fatal experience, the value of a good, or even an

easy, employment, I determined if I should ever again obtain an eligible

situation, to take proper care of it; and, I as solemnly declare,

notwithstanding my present condition, and the punishment I have since

endured, that I have uniformly adhered to those resolutions; nor does

my conscience upbraid me with one single act at which I ought to blush,

since my arrival in the colony. But the subject of the present Chapter

will prove that the best intentions of mankind are sometimes thwarted and

rendered abortive; and that a person who is destined to be unfortunate,

will be so, _maugre_ every exertion, and let him be never so circumspect.

Soon after my return to Sydney, I met with a youth named Edwards, who had

been my mess-mate and bed-fellow on board the Indian, and for whom I had

conceived a particular regard. He informed me that he lived as servant

in the family of Mr. Bent, the judge-advocate, where he had an excellent

place, and invited me to call and see him. As I had rendered him many

acts of service on the voyage, he now wished, (he said,) having it in

his power to shew his gratitude for my kindness. Accordingly, I called

upon him twice, and saw him in his master’s kitchen, (which was detached

from the dwelling-house,) in the presence of several other servants.

I told him I lived in the house of Mr. Colles, in Philip-street, and

should be happy to see him when his leisure would permit. He soon

afterwards visited me, and treated me with some rum, Colles being a

publican. Observing him to have a considerable sum of money about him

for a youth in his situation, and knowing him to have been utterly

destitute on his landing, I expressed my surprise, and earnestly

cautioned him against any acts of dishonesty which might endanger his

losing so good a place, and must, I assured him, inevitably bring him

to disgrace and ruin. He positively declared that he had done no wrong;

but that his mistress, who was very partial to him, frequently gave him

a small sum for pocket-money, and that the gentry who visited at his

master’s, made him numerous and handsome presents. I knew all this to

be possible, and I was the more inclined to believe him, because (as he

himself rightly observed,) he had no occasion to use deceit with me, in

whom he might safely have reposed the fullest confidence. I, however,

repeated my cautions and advice, and we soon afterwards parted. A few

days having elapsed, he paid me a second visit, and proposed that we

should take a walk together, which we accordingly did; and having taken

some refreshment, and amused ourselves for a couple of hours, he quitted

me and returned home. I saw no more of Edwards for about a week; when

one day, as I sat at dinner with Mr. Colles and his family, he came in

rather abruptly, and requested to speak with me. I rose from the table,

and taking him into an adjoining room, he there took from his pocket

several colonial bills, and begged I would take care of them for an hour

or two, as something had occurred at his master’s house, and he did not

wish it to be known that he possessed so much money. He also delivered

his watch into my care, and taking off one of his shoes, produced from

it another paper, which he told me, in rather a significant manner, his

mistress had that morning given him. I saw something so mysterious in

this conduct, and my former doubts were so far revived, that I hesitated,

and begged earnestly that he would not deceive me, but confess if he had

done any thing wrong; adding that if I was fully apprized of the case, I

should be the better enabled to render him this service, and to conceal

the money more effectually, without risking my own safety. This, indeed,

I only said with a view to come at the truth; for, had he confessed to

me what I suspected, though I certainly should not have betrayed him, I

was so firmly resolved to avoid all improper connexions, that I should

have declined taking charge of the money, and from that moment have

dropped all intercourse with him. He, however, so vehemently protested

his innocence, and urged me to oblige him, repeating that he could have

no motive for deceiving me, that I suffered him to depart, which he did

as abruptly as he had entered. In fact, the whole transaction did not

occupy above five minutes, and was so sudden and unexpected that I had

no time for reflection, and scarce knew what I did. On his departure,

I put the papers carelessly in my waistcoat-pocket, and the watch in my

fob, from which the riband hung conspicuous. As to the latter article,

I knew it to be his own property, having seen him wear it publicly for

several weeks. I now rejoined the family, and sat down to finish my

dinner. The cloth being drawn, I communicated the particulars of my

interview with Edwards to my friend Colles, of whose experience and

integrity I had the highest opinion. I produced the papers Edwards had

given me, declaring that I felt uneasy on the occasion, and wished

him (Mr. Colles,) to advise me how I should act. On looking over the

papers, we found about 5_l._ 10_s._ in small colonial bills, and the

paper which Edwards took from his shoe, proved to be a store-receipt

for 8_l._ 15_s._! Colles expressed his concern that I had suffered

Edwards to leave them at all, saying that he saw clearly through the

whole business; and earnestly advised me, for my own security, to go

immediately to the judge-advocate’s: and, let who would be present, to

return the whole to Edwards in the most public manner, with a declaration

that I would have nothing to do with them. This friendly advice I so far

approved, that I determined to follow it implicitly; but, unfortunately

for me, I proposed to smoke half a pipe first, and declared I would then

immediately go. I had just lighted my pipe, and taken a seat near the

door, which was open, when I heard somebody approach, and turning my

head, saw two constables at the gate, who directly entered the house, and

one of them addressing me, said, he came with an order to search my box.

I, of course, felt a little confused, but, conscious of my innocence, I

boldly answered that my box was at hand, and they were welcome to search

it; but requested to know what they were seeking for, adding, that if

I knew, I might perhaps save them that trouble. One of them replied,

“It is something about the judge-advocate’s servant.” I now instantly

perceived that I had but one part to act for my own preservation, and in

which I considered myself justified by the palpable deceit Edwards had

used towards me. I, therefore, said that the young man they mentioned,

had just been with me, and left some property in my care, which I would

deliver up to them; and accordingly produced the bills and the watch.

Immediately on seeing the store-receipt, they exclaimed, “This is what

we wanted.” They declared that I had acted perfectly right in giving

up the property; but desired I would accompany them to Mr. Redman, the

chief-constable; and assured me that my open conduct would undoubtedly

acquit me of any blame in the transaction. I willingly attended them,

and learnt by the way, that Edwards was lodged in jail, on suspicion

of robbing his master. On arriving at Mr. Redman’s, the latter, being

informed of what had passed, desired I would wait in his house until

he had reported the whole to Mr. Bent, and received that gentleman’s

further commands. In half an hour Mr. Redman returned, and informed me

that Mr. Bent fully approved of my conduct, that I was at liberty to

depart, and if again wanted, I should be sent for. My friend Colles

expressed his approbation also, of the step I had taken; but was sorry I

had not anticipated the constables, by going myself to the judge’s house

the moment he had so advised me; and for that omission I certainly was

highly blameable, and have since severely suffered. The transaction above

described took place on a Friday, and I heard no more on the subject

till the following Monday, when going to the jail at two o’clock to take

out the working party, I was met at the jail-door by Mr. Redman, who

informed me he was ordered by the Governor to confine me in a cell. I

was of course thunder-struck at this intimation; but as the order was

peremptory, I submitted, and was immediately locked up, after sending

notice of my situation to Mr. Colles. I remained in close confinement

during the whole week, in the course of which I learnt that Edwards,

who was lodged in another cell, had undergone a private examination

before his master on the preceding Saturday, and it was supposed he had

(God knows falsely,) implicated me as an accomplice in his guilt. The

ensuing Saturday, I was taken before a bench of magistrates, where I

also met Edwards, but had no communication with him. The latter was

then called for, and now appeared in the court, to my surprise, as an

approver, or evidence, against a woman known by the name of Peggy the

Miller, from her former husband having been of that profession. This

woman had, unknown to me, been also confined the whole week on Edwards’s

accusation. I remained among the crowd at the door of the court-house,

where I was enabled to hear the proceedings I am now going to describe.

Edwards deposed that the said Margaret had lately quitted the service of

Mr. Bent, but had lived some time in the family as his fellow-servant.

That soon after deponent’s coming to the house, she one day proposed to

him to take some money from his master’s writing desk, and offered to

procure him the keys for that purpose; that he accordingly did so, and

divided the spoil (about 5_l._,) with her. Being desired to proceed, he

continued, “A few days afterwards, she again proposed to me to take some

more money, and I took about the same sum as before.” These depositions

being committed to writing, by the court, and being extracted with

some difficulty from the witness, and attended with many questions and

remarks from the magistrates present[51], of course occupied some time,

and, on the court desiring Edwards to go on, he was about to proceed

in the same words, “A few days after,” _&c._; but the court, I suppose,

conceiving him capable of saying any thing in order to save himself,

and, as he could neither particularize any of the money or bills, said

to be so taken, trace their disposal, or produce one single circumstance

to corroborate his assertions, they declined hearing any more, and put

the woman on her defence; who stated generally, that every syllable of

Edwards’s evidence was false and malicious; that during her residence

in the family, she had such frequent opportunities of observing the

conduct of Edwards, and so much reason to believe he was in the constant

habit of pilfering, that, out of regard to her own safety, being a

free woman, and to prevent her being unjustly suspected, she one day

requested her mistress to discharge her, and on being questioned as to

her motives for such a wish, and pressed to continue in her place, she

evaded a full explanation, but consented to continue on condition of

Mrs. Bent herself keeping the keys of the various drawers, _&c._, and

not suffering them to lie about as they had hitherto done. That she had

reason to believe this conversation had come to the knowledge of Edwards;

for the latter soon afterwards grossly abused her, and threatened to

stab her with a knife, if ever he found that she told any tales of him,

or pryed into his proceedings. That supposing her mistress, from this

circumstance, to be too much prepossessed in his favour, and fearing

the consequences of Edwards’s wicked disposition, she had accordingly

persisted in requesting, and finally obtained, her discharge; since which

she had married an industrious mechanic, and lived in good repute. The

court was now cleared, and after some deliberation re-opened, when the

bench informed her, that the evidence of Edwards being unsupported by

any other testimony, the court were of opinion the charge had not been

substantiated, and she was therefore discharged from custody. During the

preceding examination, Edwards had never once mentioned my name, but

accused this woman as his sole accomplice, and every person present, as

well as myself, concluded I should be immediately liberated; but the

woman had no sooner retired, than I was called to the bar, and stood

charged, together with Edwards, “with breaking open the writing-desk of

Ellis Bent, Esquire, and stealing thereout several sums of money!” To

this charge, Edwards, who appeared no longer capable of dissimulation,

pleaded “Guilty.” I, of course, solemnly denied any knowledge of,

or participation in, his guilt; and briefly stated the part I had

acted, calling upon Mr. Colles, Mr. Redman, and the two constables,

to corroborate my account, which they did in every particular I have

before recited. The court then appearing to hesitate, Mr. Cubitt, the

jailer, with an over-officious zeal to shew himself assiduous, produced

a written paper, which he stated to be the declaration or confession

of Edwards, when taken before the judge, his late master, on the day

after his apprehension; adding, that the court might perhaps wish to

hear it. To this, the members assenting, one of them accordingly read to

the following effect; “That Edwards confessed having repeatedly robbed

his master’s desk of money, in which practice he had been solely aided,

abetted, and encouraged by Vaux! That Vaux had contrived an instrument

in order to pick the lock of the writing-desk; and that on one occasion,

Vaux happening to come without his instrument, had made use of a fork,

one prong of which he bent for the purpose! That another time he had

made use of a large nail! and that the nail now produced, which had been

found on Mr. Bent’s premises, was the identical nail so used! [This nail

Cubitt exhibited to the court; it was a common nail with a brass head,

about four inches long, and the point appeared to have been turned by

driving it in a stone or brick wall.] That Edwards and Vaux had jointly

taken by these means at various times about sixty pounds, which had been

equally shared between them.” This improbable account, one would suppose,

could have excited no other sensation than that of laughter; for, could

it be seriously entertained for a moment, that with such instruments as

those he described, a man could possibly open so minute a lock as that

of a writing desk, and afterwards re-lock it so securely as to escape

detection? The fact, doubtless, was, that Edwards, who had access to his

master’s keys, had himself committed the depredation without the aid

of any other person or instrument. All this I submitted to the court,

and further desired them to consider the situation in which I stood,

being merely accused by a very wicked youth, who had already confessed

his own guilt, and had laboured to implicate an innocent woman, as the

court had declared her to be. I then dwelt on the candour and openness

of my conduct respecting the money he had left with me, which I could

have effectually concealed, had I been at all privy to the guilt of

Edwards; and I called Mr. Colles, who swore, “That I had resided in his

house since the day of my discharge from the hospital; that during that

period (about six weeks,) I had lived a most orderly and regular life;

and that he had never seen me possessed of any money except a half-crown

bill, which he himself gave me to pay for my washing.” I concluded with

observing, that Edwards himself, having confessed his crime, could, if

he thought proper to tell the truth, at once acquit me of any share in

his guilt. The court then asked me, “If I was willing to trust myself to

Edwards’s answer, if they questioned him on the subject?” I answered,

that bad as he had proved himself, I could not believe him so totally

depraved as to persist in the wicked story he had before told, now that

he was standing at my elbow, and could no longer hope to extricate

himself at my expense; and I, therefore, begged he might be questioned.

The bench then asked Edwards, “If there was any truth in the story he had

told his master about Vaux?” when, to my surprise and unspeakable horror,

he answered, (hanging down his head,) “Yes, Gentlemen, it is, every word

of it, true!”

Mr. Redman now stated to the court, that on Mr. Bent missing this

store-receipt from his desk, he had sent for him; and informing him that

he suspected his servant Edwards to have been in the habit of robbing

him, as he had frequently missed small bills which he could not identify,

requested he, Mr. Redman, would endeavour to find out what connexions

the youth had formed, with a view to the detection of his guilt, and,

if possible to trace the receipt in question, which he had but that

morning deposited in his desk, and should be enabled to recognise by

the number and other particulars. Upon which Mr. Redman answered, that

he recollected seeing Edwards pass by his house one evening in company

with me, and supposed we might be intimate; that Mr. Bent then desired

he would have my lodgings searched, which (after consigning Edwards to

custody,) he had proceeded to do in the manner I have above related.

The court was now a second time cleared, and nearly an hour occupied

in consultation; when Edwards and myself were again called in, and the

bench informed Edwards, that he, having confessed his guilt, the court

had sentenced him to receive one hundred lashes at the cart’s tail, in

the streets of Sydney, and to be kept to hard labour in the jail-gang for

twelve months. Then, addressing me, the bench observed that the evidence

of Edwards not appearing to the court entitled to much credit, and being

unsupported by other testimony, the court acquitted me of any share in

the actual robbery of Mr. Bent; but were of opinion that I had been privy

to the guilt of Edwards, and had received the money from him, knowing it

to be stolen! and they had therefore sentenced me also to twelve months

labour in the jail-gang. Thus ended an examination, which I believe is

scarcely to be paralleled in the records of a court, either as to its

foundation, progress, or result; and I now found to my cost, that I was

in this instance also, the victim of an unjust prejudice, for one of

the members (who shall be nameless,) said to me, in the course of the

proceedings, “Recollect, Mr. Vaux, this is the second time of your being

sent to this colony; we know you well.” I answered, with secret, and, I

hope justifiable indignation, “Surely, Sir, that ought not to operate

against me, if my conduct has been uniformly good since my late arrival,

and I trust that will bear the test of inquiry.”

I have since learned that Edwards, after his being committed to jail,

having heard that I had given up the money he left with me, conceived

I had acted treacherously towards him; and, therefore, with the double

motive of injuring me, and palliating his own guilt, had the next day

requested to be taken before his master, and feigning contrition, had

then fabricated the vile and improbable story recited by Cubitt to the

court; artfully judging that I being much older than himself, should be

considered the most culpable, and he as an innocent youth, led astray by

my machinations.

After receiving our sentence, the corporal part of which was severely

inflicted on Edwards, I continued to labour in the jail-gang for about

three weeks, when, by an order from the Governor, as I understood, both

myself and Edwards were double-ironed, put on board a government vessel,

with several other prisoners, and transported to Newcastle, commonly

called the “Coal river,” without any definite term being fixed for our

exile; and as we were both prisoners for life, it was uncertain how long

our banishment might be protracted.

CHAPTER XII.

_Return to Head Quarters after an Exile of two Years.—Renew my

Vows of Rectitude, to which I strictly adhere.—Proposal made me

to obtain my Liberty.—I make the Attempt.—Its Failure, and the

consequent Punishment inflicted on me.—Conclusion._

On arriving at Newcastle, I was first employed in wheeling coals out of

the mines, a most laborious occupation indeed; but during my continuance

at that settlement, I was put to all descriptions of work, and for the

last three months, performed the duty of a constable, or watchman.

Since the day on which the transaction at Colles’s took place, I never

exchanged a word with the villain Edwards. He had been but a few weeks

at Newcastle, before he committed a robbery, and absconded to the woods,

from which he was brought back by some natives a naked and miserable

object. His subsequent conduct at the coal river exhibited nothing but a

succession of robberies, and every species of depravity; when detected

in which, on several occasions, he betrayed his accomplices, and proved

as perfidious as he was dishonest. He frequently escaped by land, amidst

innumerable hardships, to Sydney; where, after the commission of some

robbery, he was uniformly apprehended, and sent back to Newcastle. In

fact, though scarce twenty years of age, nothing was wanting to fill up

the measure of his wickedness, but the blackest of all crimes,—an act of

murder! and, as if he laboured to attain the summit of human depravity,

that act he soon afterwards virtually committed; for being at length,

on one of his elopements from the coal river, apprehended and lodged in

Sydney jail, at a period when many prisoners, of bad character, were

about being embarked for the settlements on Van Diemen’s land, Edwards

was included in the number. He there renewed his iniquitous courses;

associating with a band of ruffians, who escaped to the woods, and there

subsisted by plundering the settlers, robbing on the highway, _&c._ A

party of these miscreants (eight in number,) were one day attacked by

some armed persons, who had assembled together, and gone in pursuit of

them; a serious conflict ensued, the marauders, also, being well armed;

and after several shots had been exchanged, the settlers were obliged to

retreat, several of their number being severely wounded, and one killed

on the spot by the fire of the free-booters. The consequence of this

outrage was, that the whole of the latter were immediately declared by

proclamation to be in a state of outlawry, and a large reward offered

for the apprehension of all or either of them. As parties of military,

as well as the inhabitants, were detached in all directions, there is no

doubt but the whole of these desperadoes have long since received the

due reward of their villany. This account I read in a Sydney Gazette

a few months ago, and among the names of the bush-rangers, (as they

are termed,) who jointly committed the above outrage and murder, I was

shocked, though not surprised, to see that of the young, but depraved,

Edwards!

Having continued nearly two years at the coal-river, the commanding

officer was induced, in consideration of my uniform good behaviour, to

permit my return to Sydney, on my arrival at which place, I was once

more disposed of in the town-gang. Being advised to solicit the Governor

for an appointment to some less laborious employment, I waited on His

Excellency with a petition, in which I urged my exemplary behaviour for

the last two years at Newcastle; as a proof that whatever my former

conduct might have been, I was now disposed to reform; and entreating

His Excellency to divest himself of that prejudice which I feared had

already operated against me too severely, humbly prayed that he would

make trial of me in the only capacity in which I was capable of being

useful, namely, that of a clerk in one of the public-offices. Unhappily

for me, the cloud was not yet dispelled, but threatened to obscure, still

longer, the prospect of advancement and prosperity which I had in vain

sighed for, and fondly pictured to myself as the certain consequence of a

thorough reformation in principle. The Governor very coolly answered that

it was not merely my having behaved well for two years at the coal-river,

but I must conduct myself with propriety for a series of years, before

I could expect, or ought to apply for, any mark of indulgence. This

answer was certainly disheartening in the extreme; and I was equally

unsuccessful in an application to the then acting commissary, William

Broughton, Esq., who, although he never saw me until my arrival in the

Indian, not being in the colony during my former term of exile, yet this

gentleman, from hearing only of my repeated frauds while employed in

the office of Governor King, (and which no doubt were much exaggerated

by report and repetition after my departure for Europe,) had conceived

so violent a dislike to me, that he gave me a decisive, though civil,

denial; and I have since heard, that he declared I should not hold a

situation in the commissariat, if there was not another clerk in the

colony. God grant that some well-disposed christian, who reads these

Memoirs of my unhappy Life, may induce this gentleman, for whose shining

talents and excellent qualities I have the highest respect, to retract

his discouraging declaration, and to admit me to an employment, however

subordinate, in his department, which, as I am now situated, forms the

_ne plus ultra_ of my ambition.

To resume my narrative: finding from these disheartening failures, that

I had nothing to hope for but a continuance of suffering and bodily

fatigue, far above my strength, for many succeeding years, perhaps for

the remainder of my life; surely no dispassionate reader will pronounce

me culpable, or consider that I deviated from the resolutions I had

formed, to act correctly while I lived, if I listened with eagerness to

an offer of assistance in effecting my escape from a state of bondage

which became every day more irksome and galling, in proportion as I

reflected that my inoffensive conduct fairly entitled me to a share of

that favour and indulgence I every day saw extended to objects I knew

less worthy than myself. In fact, a person belonging to the Earl Spencer,

Indiaman, then on the point of sailing for Ceylon and Bombay, did, in

the month of January, 1814, from motives of pure and disinterested

compassion, propose that I should conceal myself, with his assistance,

on board that ship, and promised me every support in his power. I

accepted with joy and gratitude this unexpected offer, and, without any

difficulty, got on board, and, as I thought, effectually concealed, on

the night of the Queen’s birth-day. I lay close and undiscovered for

four days, and on the fifth had the pleasure to hear that the ship would

that day finally sail, she having already dropped down the harbour.

But, how often is the cup of happiness dashed from the lips of mortals!

On the 23d of January, about ten o’clock in the forenoon, my friend

came to me in my place of concealment, and informed me that upwards of

thirty constables were come on board to search the ship, for that so

many prisoners were missing from their respective employments, that the

Governor would not suffer the ship to depart until they were found. He,

however, assured me it was very unlikely any search would take place

in the spot I was in, and, indeed, I considered it next to impossible

that I could be discovered, unless I was betrayed. I remained in a state

of the utmost anxiety for three hours, during which a vigilant search

was making in every other part of the ship; not by the constables, for

they would have been unequal to the task, but by a mate of the vessel,

assisted by several sailors. At length, I heard voices approaching, and

eagerly listening, I was convinced by the discourse which passed between

the parties, that they knew exactly where I was concealed, and that I

really had been, by somebody, most villanously betrayed. In a moment

the mate advanced, as it were mechanically, towards me, and thrusting

his candle into the entrance of my hiding-place, desired me, in a

peremptory tone, to come out. Thus were my fond hopes of liberty and

happiness effectually destroyed. I had become a second time the victim

of treachery; but as more than one person, besides my principal abettor,

knew of my concealment, I was at a loss whom to suspect as the informer.

I was now ordered into a boat alongside, in which were about a dozen

other men and several women, who had been found concealed in various

situations. The search being not yet over, I remained alongside the ship

above an hour, in which time the number of ill-fated persons collected

in the boat had increased to twenty-seven men and four women. The ship

having now been thoroughly ransacked, the search was given up, and the

persons taken out were brought ashore, attended by the constables. We

were all immediately lodged in gaol; and the next day, a report having

been made to the Governor, His Excellency was pleased to order each man

to be punished with fifty lashes in the public lumber yard. This sentence

was certainly as lenient as could be expected for such an attempt (I do

not say offence) as we had been guilty of, had the punishment stopped

there; but, extraordinary to relate, although we had been all equally

culpable and were found under the same circumstances, a distinction was

subsequently made, which I cannot help still considering unfair and

unmerited. The day after the corporal punishment had been inflicted,

twenty-three of our number were ordered to return to the respective

employments in Sydney, from which they had severally absconded, and

myself and three others were sentenced by the Governor to be sent to the

coal-river for one year; for this distinction, there appears to have been

no other reason, but because we had each of us before suffered a similar

banishment, and had been but a few months returned from thence to Sydney!

In a few days, I was accordingly embarked with eleven other prisoners,

and a second time landed at Newcastle, from whence I had been absent

nearly twelve months. On my arrival, it happened that the store-keeper

of that settlement was in want of a clerk, and he, applying to the

commandant for me, I was appointed to that situation, in which I still

continue; and having scrupulously adhered to my former vows of rectitude,

and used every exertion to render myself serviceable to my employer, and

to merit his good opinion, as well as that of the commandant, I have

had the satisfaction to succeed in these objects; and I am not without

hope, that when I am permitted to quit my present service and return to

Sydney, my good conduct will be rewarded with a more desirable situation.

I have now been upwards of seven years a prisoner, and knowing the

hopeless sentence under which I labour, shall, I trust, studiously avoid

in future every act which may subject me to the censure of my superiors,

or entail upon me a repetition of those sufferings I have already too

severely experienced. I have thus described (perhaps too minutely for

the reader’s patience) the various vicissitudes of my past life. Whether

the future will be so far diversified as to afford matter worthy of being

committed to paper, either to amuse a vacant hour, or to serve as a

beacon which may warn others to avoid the rocks on which I have unhappily

split, is only known to the great Disposer of events.

END OF THE MEMOIRS.

FOOTNOTES

[47] See Cant Dictionary.

[48] The public papers, in describing my second examination, had the

following paragraph. “The prisoner, on his first examination, was dressed

in the most fashionable style; but he was now completely metamorphosed,

being dressed in a drab great-coat, jockey-boots, and a Belcher

handkerchief, so as to have the appearance of a stage-coachman!”

[49] Subjoined to the report of my trial, in the public prints, was this

remark. “The prisoner, on his trial, had left off his false whiskers, his

powdered head-dress, and his eye-glass, and appeared in a loose great

coat and silk handkerchief!!” Indeed there were many similar pieces of

wit at my expense, and some compliments paid me on the dexterity with

which I exercised my vocation.

[50] His real name was John Benn.

[51] The judge-advocate himself did not attend.

A

NEW AND COMPREHENSIVE

VOCABULARY

OF THE

FLASH LANGUAGE,

COMPILED AND WRITTEN BY

_JAMES HARDY VAUX_.

_Note._ The Author has found it necessary to introduce frequently, in the

course of his definitions, technical, or cant words and phrases. This he

could not avoid without much tautology and unpleasing circumlocution. The

Reader will therefore take notice, that all such cant terms are placed in

_Italics_; and where at a loss to comprehend them, he has only to refer

to their alphabetical position for an explanation.

ORIGINAL DEDICATION.

_To THOMAS SKOTTOWE, Esq., of His Majesty’s 73d Regiment, Commandant of

Newcastle, in the Colony of New South Wales, and one of His Majesty’s

Justices of the Peace for that Territory._

SIR,

With the utmost deference and respect, I beg leave to submit to your

perusal the following sheets. The idea of such a compilation first

originated in the suggestion of a friend; and however the theme may

be condemned as exceptionable by narrow minds, I feel confident you

possess too much liberality of sentiment to reject its writer as utterly

depraved, because he has acquired an extensive knowledge on a subject

so obviously disgraceful. True it is, that in the course of a chequered

and eventful life, I have intermixed with the most dissolute and

unprincipled characters, and that a natural quickness of conception, and

most retentive memory, have rendered me familiar with their language and

system of operations.

Permit me, Sir, to assure you most seriously, that I view with remorse

the retrospect of my hitherto misspent life, and that my future exertions

shall be solely directed to acquire the estimable good opinion of the

virtuous part of the community.

I trust the Vocabulary will afford you some amusement from its novelty;

and that from the correctness of its definitions, you may occasionally

find it useful in your magisterial capacity.

I cannot omit this opportunity of expressing my gratitude for the very

humane and equitable treatment I have experienced, in common with every

other person in this settlement[52], under your temperate and judicious

government.

I have the honour to remain,

with the most dutiful respect,

Sir,

Your devoted, and very humble Servant,

J. H. VAUX.

_Newcastle, 5th July, 1812._

A VOCABULARY OF THE FLASH LANGUAGE.

A

ALDERMAN LUSHINGTON. _See_ LUSH.

ANDREW MILLER’S LUGGER, a king’s ship or vessel.

AREA SNEAK, or AREA SLUM, the practice of slipping unperceived down the

areas of private houses, and robbing the lower apartments of plate or

other articles.

ARM-PITS. To _work_ under _the arm-pits_, is to practise only such

kinds of depredation, as will amount, upon conviction, to what the law

terms single, or petty larceny; the extent of punishment for which is

transportation for seven years. By following this system, a thief avoids

the halter, which certainly is applied _above_ the arm-pits.

AWAKE, an expression used on many occasions; as a thief will say to his

accomplice, on perceiving the person they are about to rob is aware of

their intention, and upon his guard, _stow it_, the _cove’s awake_. To

be awake to any scheme, deception, or design, means, generally, to see

through or comprehend it.

B

BACK-JUMP. A back-window. _See_ JUMP.

BACK-SLANG, to enter or come out of a house by the back-door; or, to go

a circuitous or private way through the streets, in order to avoid any

particular place in the direct road, is termed _back-slanging it_.

BACK-SLUM, a back room; also the back entrance to any house or premises;

thus, we’ll _give it_ ’em _on the back-slum_, means, we’ll get in at the

back-door.

BAD HALFPENNY. When a man has been upon any errand, or attempting any

object which has proved unsuccessful or impracticable, he will say on his

return, It’s a _bad halfpenny_; meaning he has returned as he went.

BANDED, hungry.

BANDS. To _wear the bands_, is to be hungry, or short of food for any

length of time; a phrase chiefly used on board the hulks, or in jails.

BANG-UP. A person, whose dress or equipage is in the first style of

perfection, is declared to be _bang up to the mark_. A man who has

behaved with extraordinary spirit and resolution in any enterprise he has

been engaged in, is also said to have _come bang up to the mark_; any

article which is remarkably good or elegant, or any fashion, act, or

measure which is carried to the highest pitch, is likewise illustrated by

the same emphatical phrase.

BARKING-IRONS, pistols; an obsolete term.

BARNACLES, spectacles.

BASH, to beat any person by way of correction, as the woman you live

with, _&c._

BASTILE, generally called, for shortness, _the Steel_; a cant name for

the House of Correction, Cold-Bath-Fields, London.

BEAK, a magistrate; the late Sir John Fielding, of police memory, was

known among _family_ people by the title of the blind _beak_.

BEAN, a guinea.

BEEF, stop thief! to _beef_ a person, is to raise a hue and cry after

him, in order to get him stopped.

BELLOWSER. _See_ WIND.

BENDER, a sixpence.

BENDER, an ironical word used in conversation by _flash_ people; as where

one party affirms or professes any thing which the other believes to be

false or insincere, the latter expresses his incredulity by exclaiming

_bender_! or, if one asks another to do any act which the latter

considers unreasonable or impracticable, he replies, O yes, I’ll do

it—_bender_; meaning, by the addition of the last word, that, in fact, he

will do no such thing.

BEST, to _get your money at the best_, signifies to live by dishonest

or fraudulent practices, without labour or industry, according to the

general acceptation of the latter word; but, certainly, no persons have

more occasion to be industrious, and in a state of perpetual action than

_cross-coves_; and experience has proved, when too late, to many of them,

that honesty is the best policy; and, consequently, that the above phrase

is by no means _à-propos_.

BETTY, a picklock; to _unbetty_, or _betty_ a lock, is to open or re-lock

it, by means of the _betty_, so as to avoid subsequent detection.

BILLIARD SLUM. _The mace_ is sometimes called _giving it to ’em on the

billiard slum_. _See_ MACE.

BISHOP. _See_ CHRISTEN.

BIT, money in general.

BIT-FAKER, a coiner. _See_ FAKE.

BIT-FAKING, coining base money.

BLACK DIAMONDS, coals.

BLEEDERS, spurs.

BLOODY-JEMMY, a sheep’s head.

BLOW THE GAFF, a person having any secret in his possession, or a

knowledge of any thing injurious to another, when at last induced from

revenge, or other motive, to tell it openly to the world and expose him

publicly, is then said to have _blown the gaff upon_ him.

BLOWEN, a prostitute; a woman who cohabits with a man without marriage.

BLUE-PIGEON, lead.

BLUE-PIGEON FLYING, the practice of stealing lead from houses, churches,

or other buildings, very prevalent in London and its vicinity.

BLUNT, money.

BOB, or BOBSTICK, a shilling.

BODY-SLANGS. _See_ SLANGS.

BODY-SNATCHER, a stealer of dead bodies from churchyards; which are sold

to the surgeons and students in anatomy.

BOLT, to run away from or leave any place suddenly, is called _bolting_,

or _making a bolt_: a thief observing an alarm while attempting a

robbery, will exclaim to his accomplice, _Bolt_, there’s _a down_. A

sudden escape of one or more prisoners from a place of confinement is

termed _a bolt_.

BOLT-IN-TUN, a term founded on the cant word _bolt_, and merely a

fanciful variation, very common among _flash_ persons, there being

in London a famous inn so called; it is customary when a man has run

away from his lodgings, broke out of a jail, or made any other sudden

movement, to say, The _Bolt-in-tun_ is _concerned_; or, He’s gone to the

_Bolt-in-tun_; instead of simply saying, He has _bolted_, _&c._ _See_

BOLT.

BONED, taken in custody, apprehended; Tell us how you was _boned_,

signifies, tell us the story of your apprehension; a common request among

fellow-prisoners in a jail, _&c._, which is readily complied with in

general; and the various circumstances therein related afford present

amusement, and also useful hints for regulating their future operations,

so as to avoid the like misfortune.

BONNET, a concealment, pretext, or pretence; an ostensible manner of

accounting for what you really mean to conceal; as a man who actually

lives by depredation, will still outwardly follow some honest employment,

as a clerk, porter, newsman, _&c._ By this system of policy, he is said

to have a good _bonnet_ if he happens to get _boned_; and, in a doubtful

case, is commonly discharged on the score of having a good character. To

_bonnet for_ a person, is to corroborate any assertion he has made, or to

relate facts in the most favourable light, in order to extricate him from

a dilemma, or to further any object he has in view.

BOUNCE, to bully, threaten, talk loud, or affect great consequence; to

_bounce_ a person out of any thing, is to use threatening or high words,

in order to intimidate him, and attain the object you are intent upon;

or to obtain goods of a tradesman, by assuming the appearance of great

respectability and importance, so as to remove any suspicion he might at

first entertain. A thief, detected in the commission of a robbery, has

been known by this sort of finesse, aided by a genteel appearance and

polite manners, to persuade his accusers of his innocence, and not only

to get off with a good grace, but induce them to apologize for their

supposed mistake, and the affront put upon him. This masterstroke of

effrontery is called _giving it to ’em upon the bounce_.

BOUNCE, a person well or fashionably drest, is said to be a _rank bounce_.

BOWLED OUT, a man who has followed the profession of thieving for some

time, when he is ultimately taken, tried, and convicted, is said to be

_bowled out_ at last. To _bowl_ a person _out_, in a general sense, means

to detect him in the commission of any fraud or peculation, which he has

hitherto practised without discovery.

BRACE UP, to dispose of stolen goods by pledging them for the utmost you

can get at a pawnbroker’s, is termed _bracing_ them _up_.

BRADS, halfpence; also, money in general.

BREAKING UP OF THE SPELL, the nightly termination of performance at the

Theatres Royal, which is regularly attended by pickpockets of the lower

order, who exercise their vocation about the doors and avenues leading

thereto, until the house is emptied and the crowd dispersed.

BREECH’D, flush of money.

BRIDGE, to _bridge_ a person, or _throw_ him _over the bridge_, is, in a

general sense, to deceive him by betraying the confidence he has reposed

in you, and instead of serving him faithfully, to involve him in ruin

or disgrace; or, three men being concerned alike in any transaction,

two of them will form a collusion to _bridge_ the third, and engross to

themselves all the advantage which may eventually accrue. Two persons

having been engaged in a long and doubtful contest or rivalship, he, who

by superior art or perseverance gains the point, is said to have _thrown_

his opponent _over the bridge_. Among gamblers, it means deceiving the

person who had back’d you, by wilfully losing the game; the money so lost

by him being shared between yourself and your confederates who had laid

against you. In playing three-handed games, two of the party will play

into each other’s hands, so that the third must inevitably be _thrown

over the bridge_, commonly called, _two poll one_. _See_ PLAY ACROSS.

BROADS, cards; a person expert at which is said to be a good

_broad-player_.

BROOMSTICKS. _See_ QUEER-BAIL.

BROWNS and WHISTLERS, bad halfpence and farthings; (a term used by

coiners.)

BUB, a low expression signifying drink.

BUCKET. To _bucket_ a person is synonymous with _putting_ him _in the

well_. _See_ WELL. Such treatment is said to be _a bucketting concern_.

BUFF. To _buff to_ a person or thing, is to swear to the identity of

them; swearing very positively to any circumstance, is called _buffing it

home_.

BUFFER, a dog.

BUG, or BUG OVER. To give, deliver, or hand over; as, He _bug’d_ me a

_quid_, he gave me a guinea; _bug over the rag_, hand over the money.

BULL, a crown, or five shillings.

BULL-DOG, a sugar-loaf.

BULL-HANKERS, men who delight in the sport of _bull-hanking_; that is,

bull-baiting, or bullock-hunting, _games_ which afford much amusement,

and at the same time frequent opportunities of depredation, in the

confusion and alarm excited by the enraged animal.

BUM-CHARTER, a name given to bread steeped in hot water, by the first

unfortunate inhabitants of the _English Bastile_, where this miserable

fare was their daily breakfast, each man receiving with his scanty

portion of bread, a quart of boil’d water from the cook’s coppers!

BUM-TRAP, a sheriff’s officer or his follower.

BUNCE, money.

BURICK, a prostitute, or common woman.

BUSH’D, poor; without money.

BUSHY-PARK, a man who is poor is said to be _at Bushy park_, or _in the

park_.

BUSTLE, a cant term for money.

BUSTLE, any object effected very suddenly, or in a hurry, is said to

be _done upon the bustle_. To _give it to_ a man _upon the bustle_, is

to obtain any point, as borrowing money, _&c._, by some sudden story or

pretence, and affecting great haste, so that he is taken by surprise, and

becomes duped before he has time to consider of the matter.

BUZ, to _buz_ a person is to pick his pocket. _The buz_ is the _game_ of

picking pockets in general.

BUZ-COVE, or BUZ-GLOAK, a pickpocket; a person who is clever at this

practice, is said to be _a good buz_.

C

CABIN, a house.

CADGE, to beg. _The cadge_ is the _game_ or profession of begging.

CADGE-GLOAK, a beggar.

CANT OF DOBBIN, a roll of riband.

CAP, synonymous with BONNET, which _see_.

CARDINAL, a lady’s cloak.

CARRY THE KEG, a man who is easily vexed or put out of humour by any joke

passed upon him, and cannot conceal his chagrin, is said to _carry the

keg_, or is compared to a _walking distiller_.

CASTOR, a hat.

CAT and KITTEN RIG, the petty _game_ of stealing pewter quart and pint

pots from public-houses.

CAZ, cheese; _As good as caz_, is a phrase signifying that any projected

fraud or robbery may be easily and certainly accomplished; any person

who is the object of such attempt, and is known to be an easy dupe, is

declared to be _as good as caz_, meaning that success is certain.

CHANDLER-KEN, a chandler’s shop.

CHANT, a person’s name, address, or designation; thus, a thief who

assumes a feigned name on his apprehension to avoid being known, or a

swindler who gives a false address to a tradesman, is said to _tip them a

queer chant_.

CHANT, a cipher, initials, or mark of any kind, on a piece of plate,

linen, or other article; any thing so marked is said to be _chanted_.

CHANT, an advertisement in a newspaper or hand-bill; also a paragraph

in the newspaper describing any robbery or other recent event; any lost

or stolen property, for the recovery of which, or a thief, _&c._, for

whose apprehension a reward is held out by advertisement, are said to be

_chanted_.

CHARLEY, a watchman.

CHARLEY-KEN, a watch-box.

CHATS, lice.

CHATTY, lousy.

CHAUNT, a song; to _chaunt_ is to sing; to _throw off a rum chaunt_, is

to sing a good song.

CHEESE IT. The same as _Stow it_.

CHEESE THAT. _See_ STOW THAT.

CHINA STREET, a cant name for Bow Street, Covent Garden.

CHIV, a knife; to _chiv_ a person is to stab or cut him with a knife.

CHRISTEN, obliterating the name and number on the movement of a stolen

watch; or the crest, cipher, _&c._, on articles of plate, and getting

others engraved, so as to prevent their being identified, is termed

having them _bishop’d_ or _christen’d_.

CHUM, a fellow prisoner in a jail, hulk, _&c._; so there are _new chums_

and _old chums_, as they happen to have been a short or a long time in

confinement.

CHURY, a knife.

CLEANED OUT, said of a gambler who has lost his last stake at play;

also, of a _flat_ who has been stript of all his money by a coalition of

_sharps_.

CLOUT, a handkerchief of any kind.

CLOUTING, the practice of picking pockets exclusively of handkerchiefs.

CLY, a pocket.

CLY-FAKER, a pickpocket.

COACH-WHEEL, a dollar or crown-piece.

COME. A thief observing any article in a shop, or other situation, which

he conceives may be easily purloined, will say to his accomplice, I think

there is so and so _to come_.

COME IT, to divulge a secret; to tell any thing of one party to another;

they say of a thief who has turned evidence against his accomplices, that

he is _coming_ all he knows, or that he _comes it as strong as a horse_.

COME TO THE HEATH, a phrase signifying to pay or give money, and

synonymous with _Tipping_, from which word it takes its rise, there being

a place called Tiptree Heath, I believe, in the County of Essex.

COME TO THE MARK, to abide strictly by any contract previously made; to

perform your part manfully in any exploit or enterprise you engage in; or

to offer me what I consider a fair price for any article in question.

CONCERNED. In using many cant words, the lovers of _flash_, by way

of variation, adopt this term, for an illustration of which, _see_

BOLT-IN-TUN, ALDERMAN LUSHINGTON, MR. PALMER, _&c._

CONK, the nose.

CONK, a thief who impeaches his accomplices; a spy; informer, or

tell-tale. _See_ NOSE, and WEAR IT.

COVE, the master of a house or shop, is called _the Cove_; on other

occasions, when joined to particular words, as a _cross-cove_, a

_flash-cove_, a _leary-cove_, _&c._, it simply implies a man of those

several descriptions; sometimes, in speaking of any third person, whose

name you are either ignorant of, or don’t wish to mention, the word

_cove_ is adopted by way of emphasis, as may be seen under the word AWAKE.

COVER, to stand in such a situation as to obscure your _Pall_, who is

committing a robbery, from the view of by-standers or persons passing,

is called _covering_ him. Any body whose dress or stature renders him

particularly eligible for this purpose, is said to be _a good cover_.

COVESS, the mistress of a house or shop, and used on other occasions, in

the same manner as _Cove_, when applied to a man.

CRAB, to prevent the perfection or execution of any intended matter

or business, by saying any thing offensive or unpleasant, is called

_crabbing it_, or _throwing a crab_; to _crab_ a person, is to use such

offensive language or behaviour as will highly displease, or put him in

an ill humour.

CRAB’D, affronted; out of humour; sometimes called, being _in

Crab-street_.

CRABSHELLS, shoes.

CRACK, to break open; _the crack_ is the _game_ of house-breaking; _a

crack_ is a breaking any house or building for the purpose of plunder.

CRACKSMAN, a house-breaker.

CRACK A WHID, to speak or utter: as, he _crack’d_ some _queer whids_, he

dropt some bad or ugly expressions: _crack a whid_ for me, intercede, or

put in a word for me.

CRACKER, a small loaf, served to prisoners in jails, for their daily

subsistence.

CRAP, the gallows.

CRAP’D, hanged.

CRIB, a house, sometimes applied to shops, as, a _thimble-crib_, a

watch-maker’s shop; a _stocking-crib_, a hosier’s, _&c._

CROAK, to die.

CROOK, a sixpence.

CROSS, illegal or dishonest practices in general are called _the cross_,

in opposition to _the square_. _See_ SQUARE. Any article which has been

irregularly obtained, is said to have been _got upon the cross_, and is

emphatically termed _a cross article_.

CROSS-COVE, or CROSS-MOLLISHER, a man or woman who lives _upon the cross_.

CROSS-CRIB, a house inhabited, or kept by _family_ people. _See_

SQUARE-CRIB.

CROSS-FAM, to _cross-fam_ a person, is to pick his pocket, by crossing

your arms in a particular position.

CUE. _See_ LETTER Q.

CUT THE LINE. _See_ LINE.

CUT THE STRING. _See_ STRING.

CUT THE YARN. _See_ YARN.

CUTTING-GLOAK, a man famous for drawing a knife, and cutting any person

he quarrels with.

D

DAB, a bed.

DAB IT UP, to _dab it up_ with a woman, is to agree to cohabit with her.

DANCERS, stairs.

DANNA, human, or other excrement.

DANNA-DRAG, commonly pronounced _dunnick-drag_. _See_ KNAP A JACOB, _&c._

DARBIES, fetters.

DARKY, night.

DARKY, a dark lanthorn.

DEATH-HUNTER, an undertaker.

DICKY, or DICK IN THE GREEN, very bad or paltry; any thing of an inferior

quality, is said to be _a dicky concern_.

DIMMOCK, money.

DING, to throw, or throw away; particularly any article you have stolen,

either because it is worthless, or that there is danger of immediate

apprehension. To _ding_ a person, is to drop his acquaintance totally;

also to quit his company, or leave him for the time present; to _ding_ to

your _pall_, is to convey to him, privately, the property you have just

stolen; and he who receives it is said to _take ding_, or to _knap the

ding_.

DINGABLE, any thing considered worthless, or which you can well spare,

having no further occasion for it, is declared to be _dingable_. This

phrase is often applied by _sharps_ to a _flat_ whom they have _cleaned

out_; and by abandoned women to a keeper, who having spent his all upon

them, must be discarded, or _ding’d_ as soon as possible.

DISPATCHES, false dice used by gamblers, so contrived as always to throw

a nick.

DO, a term used by _smashers_; _to do a queer half-quid_, or _a queer

screen_, is to utter a counterfeit half-guinea, or a forged bank-note.

DO IT AWAY, to _fence_ or dispose of a stolen article beyond the reach of

probable detection.

DO IT UP, to accomplish any object you have in view; to obtain any thing

you were in quest of, is called _doing it up for_ such a thing; a person

who contrives by _nob-work_, or ingenuity, to live an easy life, and

appears to improve daily in circumstances, is said _to do it up in good

twig_.

DO THE TRICK, to accomplish any robbery, or other business successfully;

a thief who has been fortunate enough to acquire an independence, and

prudent enough to _tie it up_ in time, is said by his former associates

to have _done the trick_; on the other hand, a man who has imprudently

involved himself in some great misfortune, from which there is little

hope of his extrication is declared by his friends, with an air of

commiseration, to have _done the trick_ for himself; that is, his ruin or

downfall is nearly certain.

DOBBIN, riband. _See_ CANT.

DOLLOP, _a dollop_ is a large quantity of any thing; _the whole dollop_

means the total quantity.

DONE, convicted; as, he was _done_ for _a crack_, he was convicted of

house-breaking.

DORSE, a lodging; to _dorse_ with a woman, signifies to sleep with her.

DOUBLE, to _double_ a person, or _tip_ him _the Dublin packet_, signifies

either to run away from him openly, and elude his attempts to overtake

you, or to give him the slip in the streets, or elsewhere, unperceived,

commonly done to escape from an officer who has you in custody, or to

_turn up_ a _flat_ of any kind, whom you have a wish to get rid of.

DOUBLE-SLANGS, double-irons.

DOWN, sometimes synonymous with _awake_, as, when the party you are

about to rob, sees or suspects your intention, it is then said that

_the cove is down_. _A down_ is a suspicion, alarm, or discovery, which

taking place, obliges yourself and _palls_ to give up or desist from the

business or depredation you were engaged in; to _put a down upon_ a man,

is to give information of any robbery or fraud he is about to perpetrate,

so as to cause his failure or detection; to _drop down to_ a person is

to discover or be aware of his character or designs; to _put_ a person

_down to_ any thing, is to apprize him of, elucidate, or explain it to

him; to _put_ a _swell down_, signifies to alarm or put a gentleman on

his guard, when in the attempt to pick his pocket, you fail to effect it

at once, and by having touched him a little too roughly, you cause him to

suspect your design, and to use precautions accordingly; or perhaps, in

the act of _sounding_ him, by being too precipitate or incautious, his

suspicions may have been excited, and it is then said that you have _put_

him _down_. _put_ him _fly_, or _spoiled_ him. _See_ SPOIL IT. To _drop

down upon yourself_, is to become melancholy, or feel symptoms of remorse

or compunction, on being committed to jail, cast for death, _&c._ To sink

under misfortunes of any kind. A man who gives way to this weakness, is

said to be _down upon himself_.

DOWN AS A HAMMER; DOWN AS A TRIPPET. These are merely emphatical phrases,

used _out of flash_, to signify being _down_, _leary_, _fly_, or _awake

to_ any matter, meaning, or design.

DRAG, a cart. _The drag_, is the _game_ of robbing carts, waggons, or

carriages, either in town or country, of trunks, bale-goods, or any other

property. _Done_ for _a drag_, signifies convicted for a robbery of the

before-mentioned nature.

DRAG-COVE, the driver of a cart.

DRAGSMAN, a thief who follows the _game_ of _dragging_.

DRAKED, ducked; a discipline sometimes inflicted on pickpockets at fairs,

races, _&c._

DRAW, to _draw_ a person, is to pick his pocket, and the act of so

stealing a pocket-book, or handkerchief, is called _drawing_ a _reader_,

or _clout_. To obtain money or goods of a person by a false or plausible

story, is called _drawing_ him _of_ so and so. To _draw_ a _kid_, is to

obtain his _swag_ from him. _See_ KID-RIG.

DRIZ, lace, as sold on cards by the haberdashers, _&c._

DROP, the _game_ of ring-dropping is called _the drop_.