Amongst a multitude of tragical adventures it is with some satisfaction
that I mention the life of a person who was of the number of those few
which take warning in time, and having once felt the rod of affliction,
fear it ever afterwards.
Thomas Anderson was the son of reputable parents in the city of
Aberdeen, in Scotland. His father was of the number of those unhappy
people who went over to Darien when the Scots made their settlement
there in the reign of the late King William, his son Thomas being left
under the care of his mother then a widow. By this his education
suffered, and he was put apprentice to a glazier, although his father
had been a man of some fashion, and the boy always educated with hopes
of living genteelly. However, he is not the first that has been so
deceived, though he took it so to heart that at first going to his
master his grief was so great as had very nigh killed him. He continued,
however, with his master two years, and then making bold with about nine
guineas of his, and thirteen of his mother's, he procured a horse and
made the greatest speed he could to Edinburgh.
Tom was sensible enough that he should be pursued, and hearing of a ship
ready to sail from Leith for London, he went on board it, and in five
days' time having a fair wind they arrived in the river of Thames. As
soon as he got on shore Tom had the precaution to take lodging in a
little street near Bur Street in Wapping, there he put his things; and
his stock now being dwindled to twelve guineas, he put two of them in
his fob, with his mother's old gold watch, which he had likewise brought
along with him, and then went out to see the town. He had not walked far
in Fleet Street, whither he had conveyed himself by boat, but he was
saluted by a well-dressed woman, in a tone almost as broad as his own.
Conscious of what he had committed he thought it was somebody that knew
him and would have taken him up. He turned thereupon pale, and started.
The woman observing his surprise, said, _Sir, I beg your pardon I took
you for one Mr. Johnson, of Hull, my near relation; but I see you are
not the same gentleman, though you are very like him._
Anderson thereupon taking heart, walked a little way with her, and the
woman inviting him to drink tea at her lodgings, he accepted it readily,
and away they went together to the bottom of Salisbury Court, where the
woman lived. After tea was over, so many overtures were made that our
new-come spark was easily drawn into an amour, and after a considerable
time spent in parley, it was at last agreed that he should pass for her
husband newly come from sea; and this being agreed upon, the landlady
was called up, and the story told in form. The name the woman assumed
was that of Johnson, and Tom consequently was obliged to go by the same.
So after compliments expressed on all sides for his safe return, a
supper was provided, and about ten o'clock they went to bed together.
Whether anything had been put in the drink, or whether it was only owing
to the quantity he had drunk, he slept very soundly until 11 o'clock in
the morning, when he was awakened by a knocking at the door; upon
getting up to open it, he was a little surprised at finding the woman
gone and more so at seeing the key thrown under the door. However, he
took it up and opened it: his landlady then delivered him a letter,
which as soon as she was gone he opened, and found it to run in these
terms:
Dear Sir,
You must know that for about three years I have been an unfortunate
woman, that is, have conversed with many of your sex, as I have done
with you. I need not tell you that you made me a present of what
money you had about you last night, after the reckoning over the way
at The George was paid. I told my landlady when I went out this
morning that I was going to bring home some linen for shirts; you
had best say so too, and so you may go away without noise, for as I
owe her above three pound for lodging, 'tis odds but that as you
said last night you were my husband, she will put you in trouble,
and that I think would be hard, for to be sure you have paid dear
enough for your frolic. I hope you will forgive this presumption,
and I am yours next time you meet me.