Tom was not a little chagrined at this accident, especially when he
found that not only the remainder of the two guineas, but also his
mother's gold watch, and a gold chain and ring was gone into the
bargain. However, he thought it best to take the woman's word, and so
coming down and putting on the best air he could, he told his landlady
he hoped his wife would bring the linen home time enough to go to
breakfast, and that in the meanwhile he would go to the coffee-house,
and read the news. The woman said it was very well, and Tom getting to
the waterside, directed them to row to the stairs nearest to his lodging
by Bur Street, ruminating all the way he went on the accident which had
befallen him.
The rumours of Jonathan Wild, then in the zenith of his glory, had
somehow or other reached the ears of our North Briton. He thereupon
mentioned him to the watermen, who perceiving that he was a stranger,
and hoping to get a pot of drink for the relation, obliged him with the
best account they were able of Mr. Wild and his proceedings. As soon,
therefore, as Anderson came home, he put the other two guineas in his
pocket, and over he came in a coach to the Old Bailey, where Mr. Wild
had just then set up in his office, Mr. Anderson being introduced in
form, acquainted him in good blunt Scotch how he had lost his money and
his watch. Jonathan used him very civilly, and promised his utmost
diligence in recovering it. Tom being willing to save money, enquired of
him his way home by land on foot, and having received instructions he
set out accordingly. About the middle of Cheapside a well-dressed
gentleman came up to him. _Friend_, says he, _I have heard you ask five
or six people, as I followed you, your way to Bur Street. I am going
thither and so if you'll walk along with me, 'twill save you the labour
of asking further questions._
Tom readily accepted the gentleman's civility, and so on they trudged,
until they came within twenty yards of the place, and into Tom's
knowledge. _Young man_, then says the stranger, _since I have shown you
the way home you must not refuse drinking a pint with me at a tavern
hard by, of my acquaintance._ No sooner were they entered and sat down,
but a third person was introduced into their company, as an acquaintance
of the former. A good supper was provided, and when they had drunk about
a pint of wine apiece, says the gentleman who brought him thither to
Anderson, _You seem an understanding young fellow. I fancy your
circumstances are not of the best. Come, if you have a tolerable head
and any courage, I'll put you in a way to live as easy as you can wish._
Tom pricked up his ears upon this motion, and told him that truly, as to
his circumstances, he had guessed very right, but that he wished he
would be so good as to put him into any road of living like a gentleman.
_For to say the truth, sir_, says he, _it was with that view I left my
own country to come up to London._
_Well spoken, my lad_, says the other, _and like a gentleman thou shalt
live. But hark ye, are you well acquainted with the men of quality's
families about Aberdeen? Yes, sir_, says he. _Well then_, replied the
stranger, _do you know none of them who has a son about your age? Yes,
yes_, replied Tom, _My Lord J---- sent his eldest son to our college at
Aberdeen to be bred, and he and I an much alike, and not above ten days
difference in our ages. Why then_, replied the spark, _it will do, and
here's to your honour's health. Come, from this time forward, you are
the Honourable Mr. ----, son and heir apparent to the Right Honourable,
the Lord ----._
To make the story short, these sharpers equipped him like the person
they put him upon the town to be, and lodging him at the house of a
Scotch merchant who was in the secret, with no less than three footmen
all in proper livery to attend him. In the space of ten days' time, they
took up effect upon his credit to the amount of a thousand pounds. Tom
was cunning enough to lay his hands on a good diamond ring, two suits of
clothes, and a handsome watch, and improved mightily from a fortnight's
conversation with these gentlemen. He foresaw the storm would quickly
begin, the news of his arrival under the name he had assumed, having
been in the papers a week; so to prevent what might happen to himself,
he sends his three footmen on different errands, and making up his
clothes and some holland shirts into a bundle, called a coach and drove
off to Bur Street, where having taken the remainder of his things that
had been there ever since his coming to town, he bid the fellow drive
him to the house of a person near St. Catherine's, to whom he had known
his mother direct letters when in Scotland.
Yet recollecting in the coach that by this means he might be discovered
by his relations, he called to the coachman before he reached there, and
remembering an inn in Holborn, which he had heard spoken of by the
Scotch merchant, where he had lodged in his last adventure, bid the
fellow drive thither, saying he was afraid to be out late, and if he
made haste he would give him a shilling. When he came thither and had
had his two portmanteaus carried into the inn, pretending to be very
sick he went immediately upstairs to bed, having first ordered a pint of
wine to be burnt and brought upstairs.
Reflecting in the night on the condition he was in and the consequence
of the measures he was taking, he resolved with himself to abandon his
ill-courses at once and try to live honestly in some plantation of the
West Indies. These meditations kept him pretty much awake, so that it
was late in the morning before he arose. Having ordered coffee for his
breakfast, he gave the chamberlain a shilling to go and fetch the
newspapers, where the first thing he saw was an account of his own cheat
in the body of the paper, and at the end of it an advertisement with a
reward for apprehending him. This made him very uneasy, and the rather
because he had no clothes but those which he had taken up as aforesaid;
so he ordered the chamberlain to send for a tailor, and pretended to be
so much indisposed that he could not get out. When the tailor came, he
directed him to make him a riding suit with all the expedition he could.
The tailor promised it in two days' time. The next day, pretending to be
still worse, he sent the chamberlain to take a place for him in the
Bristol coach, which being done, he removed himself and his things early
in the morning to the inn where it lay, and set out the next day
undiscovered for Bristol.
Three days after his arrival he met with a captain bound for the West
Indies, with whom having agreed for a passage, he set sail for Jamaica.
But a fresh gale at sea accidentally damaging their rudder, they were
obliged to come to an anchor in Cork, where the captain himself and
several other passengers went on shore. Anderson accompanied him to the
coffee-house, where calling for the papers that last came in, he had
like to have swooned at the table on finding himself to have been
discovered at Bristol, and to have sailed in such a ship the day before
the persons came down to apprehend him in order to his being carried
back to London.
As soon as he came a little to himself, he stepped up to the man of the
house and asked him for the vault [privy], which being shown him, he
immediately threw the paper down; and as soon as he came out, finding
the captain ready to go, he accompanied him with great satisfaction on
board again, where things being set to rights, by the next day at ten
o'clock they sailed with a fair wind, and without any further cross
accident arrived safe at Jamaica. There Tom had the good luck to pick up
a woman with a tolerable fortune, and about three years later remitted
£300 home to the jeweller who had been defrauded of the watch and the
ring, and directed him to pay what was over, after deducting his own
debt, to the people who had trusted him with other things, and who upon
his going off had recovered most of them, and were by this means made a
tolerable satisfaction.
He resided in the West Indies for about five years in all, and in that
time, by his own industry acquired a very handsome fortune of his own,
and therewith returned to Scotland.
I should be very glad if this story would incline some people who have
got money in not such honest ways (though perhaps less dangerous) to
endeavour at extenuating the crimes they have been guilty of, by making
such reparation as in their power, by which at once they atone for their
fault, and regain their lost reputation; but I am afraid this advice may
prove both unsuccessful and unseasonable and therefore shall proceed in
my narrations as the course of these memoirs directs me.