I GET INTO VERY DOUBTFUL COMPANY--I AM TEMPTED, AND, LIKE A TRUE SON OF
ADAM, I FALL.
The reader must have observed that, under the tuition of Anderson, I
promised to follow the right path, and, provided his good offices were
not interfered with, there appeared little doubt but that such would be
the case. But I was little aware, nor was he, that the humble
profession which I had chosen for myself was beset with danger, and that
the majority of those with whom I was associating were the most likely
of all others to lead me into evil. Why I had not hitherto been tempted
can only be ascribed to my tender years. In fact, I had not been
considered strong enough, or of an age to be useful to them, but now
that I was more than thirteen years old--being, moreover, very tall and
strong for my age--the hour of temptation arrived; and fortunate was it
for me that, previous to this epoch, I had been taken under the
protection of Peter Anderson.
I have said in a former chapter that I was a regular _mudlarker_. So I
was, as far as the ostensible occupation of those who are so denominated
went; to wit, "picking up pieces of old rope, wood, etcetera." But the
mudlarkers, properly speaking, at that time composed a very extensive
body on the river, and were a more humble portion of the numerous river
depredators, of which I may hereafter speak. A mudlarker was a man who
had an old boat, generally sold by some merchant vessel, furnished with
an iron bar full of hooks, which was lowered down by a rope to catch
pieces of cordage, oakum, canvas or other articles, which might fall
overboard from the numerous vessels in the river; these were sold to the
marine stores, such as were kept by old Nanny. But, as I observed, this
was the _ostensible_ mode of livelihood; they had other resources, to
which I shall presently refer. An old man of the name of Jones, who
resided at Greenwich, was one of these mudlarkers by profession. He was
a surly old fellow, his sharp nose and chin nearly meeting, and he
usually went by the name of Old Grumble. I had occasionally assisted
him with his boat, but without receiving money, or indeed thanks, for my
pains, but for this I cared little. He was a very old man, and when he
came on shore and went up to old Nanny with the few things he had
collected during the day, I almost wondered how he could manage to
subsist, and thought myself infinitely better off than he was.
One evening he said to me, "Jack, I'm going up the river, I wish you'd
come in the boat and help me, and if I make anything I will give you
something for your trouble, but if I don't you can't expect it."
As he was very infirm I went with him, more out of charity than with any
hopes of profit. We pulled with the tide till we arrived a little above
Deptford, where several ships were lying, and he went close to one and
lowered down his grapnels. He dragged for a short time.
"Just you make a little farther off, old fellow," cried the mate of the
vessel.
"Won't allow a poor old man to earn a few pence, I suppose," replied Old
Grumble, hauling up his grapnel and directing me to pull under the bows,
where he dropped it down again. I now perceived, as I thought, some
signs passing between him and one of the men in the head; but if so,
they were soon over, and Old Grumble continued his avocation till the
sun set.
"How long do you intend to remain here?" inquired I. "Oh, not much
longer, but I must wait a bit." At last it was quite dark, and then
Grumble pulled up his grapnel and dropped down nearer to the cutwater of
the vessel. I soon distinguished a tinkling, as it were, of metal; and
Old Grumble, holding up his hands, received some sheets of copper, which
were lowered down by a rope-yarn. As soon as they were quietly landed
in the stern of the boat, down came a bag, which he cast off and laid
beside the copper. I was all astonishment, but still more so when a
large bag of something weighing very heavy was lowered down by a rope
after the small bag. A low whistle was then given, and the words
"Monday night" pronounced in a whisper. Grumble whistled in return, and
then, hauling up the grapnel, he told me to put out the oars and pull,
while he took his grapnel on board. We then pulled down the river
again, for the tide had turned, and as soon as we were clear of the
shipping I began to interrogate him.
"Who gave you all these things?"
"Who? Why, that man."
"But what did he give them you for?"
"Why, out of charity, to be sure! But I can't talk now, I've no breath
to spare. Let's pull ashore, and then I'll talk to you."
As we pulled down I observed that a lighter had broken adrift from her
moorings, and was sweeping down the river with the ebb tide.
"There's a lighter adrift," said I.
"Yes," replied Grumble. "I'm too old for that work now; time was.
There'll be pretty pickings as soon as she gets down a little lower.
The Light Horsemen have cut her adrift."
"Light Horsemen! Who are they?"
"Bah! you know nothing. I tell ye again, I haven't no breath to spare;
I can't pull and talk too."
I was convinced in my own mind that Old Grumble had not obtained the
articles in the boat by fair means, and, annoyed that I should have been
made a participator in any dishonest dealings, I was resolved to
question him closely as soon as we landed. There was no one at the
steps, and when we beached the boat I asked him whether he was going to
take the things up to old Nanny's.
"Old Nanny! no. She's no fence now; she used to be a good one, but she
was overhauled once or twice, and nearly sent on the other side of the
water, and, since that, she's satisfied with little articles, sure
profit and no risk."
"What do you mean by a fence?" inquired I.
"Why, don't you know that yet, boy? Well, a _fence_ is one who receives
things that are brought for sale, and never asks no questions."
"Well, but if these things were given you out of charity, as you say,
why should you want to take them up to a fence, as you call it?"
"I tell you what, Jack, I can't be answering all these questions here,
where there may be twenty pair of ears a-listening."
"Well, and if they do listen, what is the harm, if we are doing what is
right?"
"It won't do to argufy here, I tell you. In my opinion, a poor man who
works hard to get some victuals to keep body and soul together is doing
what is right."
"Yes, if he works at an honest livelihood."
"Don't talk so loud about _honesty_; the very word is enough to make
people suspect something not right. I'll tell you all when you come up
to my house; for you see, Jack, you must help me to carry these things
up. D'ye think you can manage this bag of pease? Let's try." Between
us we contrived to get the bag, which weighed about half a
hundredweight, on my back, and I walked off with it, Grumble following
me with the copper and the other small bag, which I afterwards found
contained copper nails. When we arrived at his dwelling, which was as
dilapidated and miserable as old Nanny's, he took out his key and
fumbled a long while at the lock; at last he opened it. "You had better
stay till I get a light," said he. In a minute he came with one to the
door, and told me to follow him. I went in, put down the bag, and, some
grains falling out, I took them up.
"Why, this is coffee, Grumble!"
"Well, _pease_ is our name for coffee, _sand_ for sugar, and _vinegar_
for rum, when we get any."
"Well, but, Grumble, I wish to know how you came by these things."
"I'll tell you, Jack, if you ask everybody how they come by things, you
will have enough to do; but the fact is, the man wants me to sell them
for him."
"Why, you said he gave them to you out of charity!"
"Oh, that was only because I couldn't spare breath to tell you all about
it."
"But why should he lower them down in the dark, if they are his own
property?"
"Jack, I don't ask whose property it is; all I know is that I come by it
honestly. I don't steal it, and I can't prove that the man does. Why,
Jack, if one is to be so nice as that, you can't go into a grocer's shop
to buy sugar, or coffee, or pepper, or indeed into almost any shop, if
you first want to know whether the people have come by the goods
honestly before you buy of them."
"Still, it is so plain that the man must have stolen them."
"Suppose it is; how are so many poor people to find their livelihood and
support their families, if they refuse to get a shilling or two when it
is offered? If we were only to live upon what we get honestly, why, we
should starve; the rich take good care of that by grinding us down so
close. Why, Jack, how many thousands get their living on this river!
and do you think they could all get their living honestly, as you call
it? No; we all plunder one another in this world. [These remarks of
Grumble were, at the time, perfectly correct; it was before the Wet
Docks or the River Police was established. Previously to the West
India, London, St. Katharine's, and other docks having been made, all
ships unloaded in the river, and the depredations were so enormous that
Mr Colquhoun, in his work, has estimated them at half a million
sterling _annually_. At present, the river may be said to be
comparatively honest; the police is strict, and the temptations are
removed.] You asked me who were Light Horsemen?--that's a name for one
set of people who live by plunder:--that lighter will have a good slice
of her cargo out to-night; for those who cut her adrift know what's on
board of her. Then we have the Heavy Horsemen--they do their work in
the daytime, when they go on board as lumpers to clear the ships. And
then we've the Coopers and Bum-boat men, and the Ratcatchers and the
Scuffle Hunters, and the River Pirates; and, last of all, we have the
Mudlarkers: all different professions, Jack; never interfering with each
other, and all living by their wits. I'm too old now; I was a flash
pirate once, but I'm now nearly eighty, and am only fit for a
mudlarker."
"But," exclaimed I, with astonishment, "are they not discovered and
punished?"
"That's very seldom, Jack; for you see we have receivers all down the
river; some of them great men, and dining with the mayor and common
council; others in a small way--all sorts, Jack: and then we have what
we call Jew Carts, always ready to take goods inland, where they will
not be looked after. Old Nanny was a receiver and fence in a large way
once."
"Then the only honest people on the river are the watermen."
Here old Grumble chuckled. "Why, Jack, they be the worst of all, for
they be both receivers and thieves. Do you think the watermen live by
their fares? If you do, just wait on the steps one night, and you'll
find that their night work is worth more than the day work is. We all
must live, Jack; and now I've shown you a way by which you can earn more
money in a night than you can in a fortnight by asking for halfpence.
Here's five shillings for you, my boy; and when I want you again I'll
let you know."
Alas! the five shillings, so easily and so unexpectedly earned, did, for
the time, satisfy all my scruples: so easily are we bribed into what is
wrong. I wished Old Grumble a good night and left him. As I returned
home, I thought of what he had said about night work, and, instead of
making my way to Fisher's Alley, I returned to the landing-steps,
resolving to watch for a time and see what occurred.
I thought of what had passed. I was not satisfied with myself. I
thought of what Anderson would say, and I felt that I had done wrong.
And then I attempted to exculpate myself: I could not prove that the
things were stolen. I did not go with any intent to help in such a
business. Old Grumble had only paid me for my work; but then, why did
he pay me so much money? My conscience told me that it was because the
dealings were unfair. I could not persuade myself that I was right. I
looked up at the heavens--for it was a clear night, and there was a very
bright star just above me; and as I looked at it it appeared as if it
were an eye beaming down upon me, and piercing into my breast. I turned
away from it, and then looked at it again--still it had the same
appearance: I thought it was the eye of God--I trembled, and I resolved
to reveal the whole to Anderson the next day, when I heard the sound of
oars. I looked in the direction, and perceived a wherry with two men
pulling in: I was down on the steps, under the shadow of the wall, and
they did not see me. They landed, and handed out of the wherry three
large and full canvas bags. "It's more than we can carry," said the
voice of a waterman I well knew; "we must leave one in the boat; and be
quick, for they are on our scent. Hollo! who's that? what are you doing
here? Poor Jack, I declare."
"Well, mayn't I have a little night work as well as you?"
"Oh! you've come to that, have you?" replied he. "Well, as you're
waiting for something else, I suppose you could not help us with one of
these bags?"
"Yes, I can," replied I, forgetting all my resolutions; "put it on my
back, if it's not too heavy."
"No, no; you're stout enough to carry it. I say, Jack, can you tell us,
does old Nanny fence again, or has she given it up?"
"I believe she does not," replied I.
"Well," said he, "just put the question to her to-morrow morning, for
she used to be a good 'un; now follow us."
I walked after them with my load until we came to a by-street; at the
shutters of a shop they rapped three times on the iron bar outside which
fixed them up; the door was opened, and we put the bags down in the
passage, walked out again without a word, and the door was immediately
closed.
"Well, Jack," said the waterman, "I suppose we must tip handsome for the
first time: here's ten shillings for you, and we'll let you know when we
want you to be on the look-out for us."
Ten shillings! and five before--fifteen shillings! I felt as I were a
rich man; all scruples of conscience were, for the time, driven away.
I hurried home rattling the silver in my pocket, and opening the door
softly, I crept to bed. Did I say my prayers that night? No!!