AN EVENING MEAL--A FEAST FOR AN ALDERMAN.
All the wandering race, such as pedlars, tramps, and hawkers of small
ware, whose pursuits are in the open air, and which lead them, during
the day, to an uncertain distance from their residence, never have
more meals than their breakfast and their tea. But as the most of
these people are no enemies to good living, they usually contrive to
have their morning affair as much in the Scotch fashion as possible,
and their evening refection to unite the substantiability of the
English dinner, with the refreshing qualities of the tea table.
Between six and seven is the hour which they in general retire from
the labours of the day; and as this was the time the lodgers were now
crowding in, every one carrying the eatables he intended to use, which
usually consist of half a pound of bacon, quarter of a pound of
butter, a pennyworth of tea or coffee, with as much sugar. These are
placed upon a half-quartern loaf, and carried in one hand; and, if
eggs are in season, three or four may be seen clutched in the other.
In London, and other large towns, these people, when their finances
will permit, indulge in all the luxury of the cook-shop and the
flesher's stall; but in country places, there is not such a variety,
the bacon--a red herring, and the _et ceteras_, are mostly their
choice.
Among the people who now made their appearance, were certainly some
two or three labourers, but the rest were all of that stamp who scorn
to live by the sweat of their brow. The frying pan was put into active
motion. A couple, a man and his wife,--who by their appearance, no one
would suppose that they ever partook of anything save crusts and
scraps, filled the pan with nice mutton chops, by way of a relish to
their bohea. Eggs and bacon, ham and eggs, ham, beef-steaks, (aye, of
the prime rump, too,) mutton chops, sausages, saveloys, &c., &c., were
all now with rapidity, and in their turn, soon smoking, fuming, and
frying upon the fire, raising a smell almost powerful enough to
satisfy the moderate cravings of a Frenchman's appetite.
The whole of the food that we could perceive that had been gathered
from door to door, was one solitary plate of broken bread, which was
before a broad-shouldered and able-bodied match seller; and even he,
before he would allow such refuse to take its descent down his gullet,
took especial care to plaster well every piece with good fresh
butter--washing the whole down with an excellent cup of coffee.
It might have afforded a fine treat to the searcher after life and
manners, to have observed the rough and ragged scene that was now
before us. The kitchen at times was crowded to excess; and, amid the
clattering of plates, fuss of cooking, and confusion of tongues, men,
women, and children, feasting, drinking, singing, and card-playing,
while some two or three might be seen wiling away the painful effects
of an empty pocket by a soothing whiff from the favourite cutty,
occasionally a half naked brute, in the shape of a man or a woman,
would stagger in, their heads nodding on their shoulders, like the
equally sensible and oblivious looking pate of a Chinese figure in a
grocer's window; and if there was space enough, would reel a step or
two, and then measure their length upon the floor, muttering sundry
threatening sounds. These, of course, were soon picked up, and in
their attempts to play at _a la Randall_, had their arms carefully
pinioned, their bodies placed upon a seat, and laid against the wall;
or, if there was room enough, were accommodated with a stretch upon
the form, to snooze themselves fresh again--dreaming of the sweets of
gin, and the joys of a begging life.
But perhaps a sketch or so of those strange beings, with a little of
their interesting slang, will be the better way to describe such a
group. By the bye, this is the place for character--the cadging house
is the very spot for the pourtrayer of life, who wishes to lay claim
to any thing like originality;--here Nature has her full scope, and
affectation rarely shows her face.
As we were sitting, noting the various particulars that were
continually passing before our eyes, and as the Poet says, catching
"the manners living as they rise," a thumping step was heard coming
along the passage. The door opened, and a wooden-legged weather-beaten
seaman, past the meridian, with a pot of beer in one hand and a bag in
the other, showed his phiz. He was dressed in the usual sailor's garb,
jacket and trousers, with a black handkerchief slung round his neck,
and a low-crowned glazed hat on his head. The immense breadth of his
shoulders, solidity of chest, with a neck like the "lord of the
pasture," gave him the weighty bearing and bold front of an
eighty-four, while his open, bluff, and manly countenance at once
proclaimed him to be the true man-of-war's man, and tar of old
England. Jack's story is soon told:--besides being a King George's
man, he had been a bold smuggler, and had his starboard leg carried
away in an affray with the Custom sharks.
We were struck with something like admiration at beholding such a
model of the favourite class of this country, and very naturally
followed his motions, taking an interest in every little peculiarity,
they being exactly what have been represented by Smollett, and other
naval sketchers, as the characteristics of a tar of the old school.
Jack thumped away to a seat, clapped his pot of beer upon the table,
and threw down his hat alongside. He then very gravely took out of his
mouth a tolerable sized quid of tobacco, and, having safely deposited
that treasure in his jacket pocket, sent, the next moment, a torrent
of Virginian juice below the bars. These preliminaries being over, he
proceeded to rummage forth the contents of his bag; and among the odds
and ends, hauled out a substantial piece of the wing of an ox, and
showed that his cruise had not been a bad one. With this goodly
blunter of the keen edge of hungry appetite securely clutched in his
fist, it may be supposed that the jack-knife did not lag behind;
indeed, he had evidently enjoyed many a north-easter, for his
appetite appeared to be of that sort which brooks no delay; never once
allowing him to answer the many questions that were addressed to him,
as "What cheer to-day, Jack?" &c., or so much as to give his grinders
one moment's rest, save, and only then when he took a hearty pull at
Messrs. Perkins and Co.
This highly-refreshing task being over, he handed a portion of his
grub, and a draught of porter, to a decently-dressed young man, who
had apparently nothing to chew, save his own thoughts. Then drawing
from his pocket his old crony--the pipe, and stretching forth his
timber toe, to feel as it were at home, commenced addressing the young
fellow as follows. And here let us remind the reader, that it will be
impossible for us to describe a dialogue among this class, which is of
the lowest of the low, in the language of polished society; we will
therefore, in lieu of the emphatic words with which they generally
garnish their conversation, use the delicate but meaning dashes ----
----.
"Harry," says the tar, "have you not been at work to-day, that you
look so devilish blue?" (working, by the bye, is the honest word used
by those honest people for begging, they having as correct an idea of
what is meant by respectable terms as their more respectable fellow
men).
"Work! Aye," replied Harry, "I went out this morning with Williams. We
worked all the way to Piccadilly, then down the Haymarket, along Pall
Mall, and were, just beginning with some ladies in the Park, when we
were stopped by a policeman, and very nigh got tapped, and ---- ----
if I could raise heart to cadge any more."
"Aye," cried Jack, "you were always a hen-hearted dog; but,
howsomever, I had a brush to-day, myself with one of those land
sharks. As I was crossing St. Martin's-lane, I saw a carriage full of
ladies standing at a shop door. Up I stumped, and was just about to
doff my castor (hat), when a slap on the shoulder, with 'what do you
want there?' made me turn round; and there I met the ugly mug of a
devil in blue. 'What's that to you?' says I. 'Oh, I thought you were
going to beg.' 'Did you,' says I, 'if I had, I would have taken care
not to have been such a ---- fool, as to let you see me.' 'Well, well,
go on, go on,' says he. I stepped on one side, and watched till my
master had steered off, and then I about again, and, blow me, if one
of the young ladies--and a prime un she was!--did not tip me a tanner
(sixpence)."
A remarkably fine-looking man, with nicely trimmed whiskers and a long
white apron, who was regaling himself with a plate of sausages to his
evening souchong, here observed that there were yet some good fellows
among the police. "For instance," he said, "it was only the other day,
as I was working at the Middle Row, Holborn, which is my regular beat,
I cadged a couple of swells. They bid me begone, or else they would
call for the police. I laughed at them, and still tried it on, when
one of them called to a blue devil, 'Take this fellow into custody,'
says he, 'and I will appear against him to-morrow morning.' 'What's he
been doing?' demanded the policeman. 'Begging,' answered the other.
'Oh, is that all?--well, if you will go on, sir, he will not trouble
you.' 'Take him up directly, you scoundrel,' shouted the gentleman,
'or else, by ---- I'll report you.' The policeman laughed, and walked
away, leaving the swells swearing like good-uns."
The youth, whom we have before noticed as being partial to a drowsy
life, now put in his word, and gave his affirmation as to the lenity
of the police. His beat as he called it, was between the foot of
Ludgate Hill and Blackfriars Bridge, "and neither the man who formerly
looked about for the people there, nor his predecessor, ever once
interrupted him in his laudable endeavours to collect pence, although
he daily cadged in the very face of the guardian of the public."
It was now admitted by the whole of the company that only keep off any
glaring annoyance, and the police would never say you did wrong.
"Well, well," observed Jack, "I believe, after all, London is still
the place. I was once put into limbo in Norfolk, fourteen days, for
simply asking a gentleman for a little money, and ---- me, if the
constables there won't swear that old Belzebub is white, sooner than
they will let a man clear. And now," said he, shaking the ashes out of
his pipe, "I must to work once more, or else there will be short
allowance to-morrow, I know."
At this there was a general movement among the company; even the
sluggard himself raised up his heavy lump of a body, as if necessity
had just given him a call,--yawned, and fumbled with his hands about
his head and breast. For, be it known, that those ease-loving people
have as great a respect for the Sabbath, as Sir Andrew Agnew himself;
not that they care anything for such a place as a church, but for that
inherent dislike which the whole tribe have to anything in the shape
of labour, and which induces them to make an extra push on a Saturday
night, in order that they may enjoy the Sunday as a holiday, with the
rest of the labouring classes. It must likewise not be forgotten, that
the police are rather indulgent on a Saturday night, but more
watchful on the Lord's day.
"Where shall we stand?" demanded a tape and thimble seller to a dealer
in matches. "Tottenham Court, or Clare Market."
"Clare Market, to be sure!" answered the other; "and we will have a
drop of rum at the new gin-shop. I had half a pint there this morning
with Morgan, and it was prime."
"Come, Blacksmith," (the name given to the fellow whom we had
designated the sloth,) said a half-naked lad, with a strong Irish
accent, "Come, boy, come, we must be dodging."
"Aye," replied his heavy crony, "I suppose we must. Have you got any
browns (pence) about you, Paddy?"
"Yes," said the Hibernian, "I can _sthand_ a _quarthern_."
"Then, we'll go."
And accordingly they prepared, the sluggard in a soldier's flannel
jacket, and a tattered pair of _breeks_, which was all that he
considered requisite for the weather and his own particular
profession. Paddy, a lean, pale-faced lad of eighteen, whose features
bore the look of emaciation, from the continual use of tobacco--the
pipe or quid never being out of his mouth, save at meals, (a short
black stump now ornamented his jaws)--with a shirt upon his back that
had been as much acquainted with soap as the owner's skin, and a thin
pair of canvass trousers, was the finish complete to this vagabond's
costume. Away they went, in the true shipwrecked sailor-begging
style--their arms folded, bodies bent, and lifting their feet at every
step, as if they were afraid to touch the ground for cold, and which
contributed to give them that rocking gait so peculiar to the sons of
the ocean--their whole frames, too, shivering as if the frosty breath
of Old Winter was stealing through their veins:--the sluggard to whine
and cry for melting charity at the foot of Ludgate Hill, and Paddy, in
his shirt, to cadge, at ten o'clock at night, in the windiest nook on
Blackfriars Bridge.
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