“Look round thee, young Astolpho; here's the place
Which men (for being poor) are sent to starve in;--
Rude remedy, I trow, for sore disease.
Within these walls, stifled by damp and stench,
Doth Hope's fair torch expire, and at the snuff,
Ere yet 'tis quite extinct, rude, wild, and wayward,
The desperate revelries of fell Despair,
Kindling their hell-born cressets, light to deeds
That the poor Captive would have died ere practised,
Till bondage sunk his soul to his condition.”
The Prison.--Act I. Scene III.
TRAVERSING the streets, without having in view any particular object,
other than the observance of Real Life in London, such as might occur
from fortuitous incident; our two perambulators skirted the Metropolis
one fine morning, till finding themselves in the vicinity of
Tothill-fields Bridewell, a place of confinement to which the
Magistrates of Westminster provisionally commit those who are supposed
to be guilty of crimes. Ingress was without much difficulty obtained,
and the two friends proceeded to a survey of human nature in its most
degraded state, where, amidst the consciousness of infamy and the
miseries of privation, apathy seemed the predominant feeling with these
outcasts of society, and reflection on the past, or anticipation of the
future, was absorbed in the vacuum of insensibility. Reckless of his
destiny, here the manacled felon wore, with his gyves, the semblance
of the most perfect indifference; and the seriousness of useful
retrospection was lost in the levity of frivolous amusement. Apart from
the other prisoners was seated a recluse, whose appearance excited the
attention of the two visitants; a deep cloud of dejection overshadowed
his features, and he seemed studiously to keep aloof from the
obstreperous revelry of his fellow-captives. There was in his manner
a something inducing a feeling of commiseration which could not be
extended to his callous ~21~~ companions in adversity. His decayed
habiliment indicated, from its formation and texture, that he had seen
better days, and his voluntary seclusion confirmed the idea that he
had not been accustomed to his present humiliating intercourse. His
intenseness of thought precluded the knowledge of approximation on his
privacy, until our two friends stood before him; he immediately rose,
made his obeisance, and was about to retire, when Mr. Dashall, with
his characteristic benevolence, begged the favour of a few moments
conversation.
“I am gratified,” he observed, “in perceiving one exception to the
general torpitude of feeling which seems to pervade this place; and
I trust that your case of distress is not of a nature to preclude
the influence of hope in sustaining your mind against the pressure of
despondency.”
“The cause of my confinement,” answered the prisoner, “is originally
that of debt, although perverted into crime by an unprincipled,
relentless creditor. Destined to the misery of losing a beloved wife
and child, and subsequently assailed by the minor calamity of pecuniary
embarrassment, I inevitably contracted a few weeks arrears of rent to
the rigid occupant of the house wherein I held my humble apartment,
when, returned one night to my cheerless domicil, my irascible landlord,
in the plenitude of ignorance and malevolence, gave me in charge of a
sapient guardian of the night, who, without any enquiry into the nature
of my offence, conducted me to the watch-house, where I was presently
confronted with my creditor, who accused me of the heinous crime of
getting into his debt. The constable very properly refused to take
cognizance of a charge so ridiculous; but unluckily observing, that had
I been brought there on complaint of an assault, he would in that case
have felt warranted in my detention, my persecutor seized on the idea
with avidity, and made a declaration to that effect, although evidently
no such thought had in the first instance occurred to him, well knowing
the accusation to be grossly unfounded. This happened on a Saturday
night, and I remained in duresse and without sustenance until the
following Monday, when I was held before a Magistrate; the alleged
assault was positively sworn to, and, maugre my statement of the
suspicious, inconsistent conduct of my prosecutor, I was immured in the
lock-up house for the remainder of the day, on the affidavit of ~22~~
perjury, and in the evening placed under the friendly care of the
Governor of Tothill-fields Bridewell, to abide the issue at the next
Westminster sessions.”
“This is a most extraordinary affair,” said the Squire; “and what do you
conjecture may be the result?”
“The pertinacity of my respectable prosecutor,” said the Captive, “might
probably induce him to procure the aid of some of his conscientious
Israelitish brethren, whom 1 never saw, towards substantiating the
aforesaid assault, by manfully swearing to the fact; but as I have no
desire of exhibiting myself through the streets, linked to a chain of
felons on our way to the Sessions House, I believe I shall contrive
to pay the debt due to the perjured scoundrel, which will ensure my
enlargement, and let the devil in due season take his own!”
“May we enquire,” said Dashall, “without the imputation of impertinent
inquisitiveness, what has been the nature of your pursuits in life?”
“Multitudinous,” replied the other; “my life has been so replete
with adventure and adversity in all its varieties, and in its future
prospects so unpropitious of happiness, that existence has long ceased
to be desirable; and had I not possessed a more than common portion of
philosophic resignation, I must have yielded to despair; but,
“When all the blandishments of life are gone, The coward sneaks to
death,--the brave live on!”
“Thirty years ago I came to London, buoyant of youth and hope, to
realize a competency, although I knew not by what means the grand
object was to be attained; yet it occurred to me that I might be equally
successful with others of my country, who, unaided by recommendation and
ungifted with the means of speculation, had accumulated fortunes in
this fruitful Metropolis, and of whom, fifteen years ago, one eminently
fortunate adventurer from the north filled the civic chair with
commensurate political zeal and ability.
“Some are born great; others achieve greatness, And some have greatness
thrust upon them!”
“Well, Sir, what can be said of it? I was without the pale of fortune,
although several of my school-mates, who had established themselves
in London, acquired, by dint of perseverance, parsimony and servility,
affluent ~23~~circumstances; convinced, however, that I was not
destined to acquire wealth and honour, and being unsolaced even with
the necessaries of life, I abandoned in London all hope of success, and
emigrated to Ireland, where I held for several years the situation of
clerk to a respectable Justice of the Quorum. In this situation I lived
well, and the perquisites of office, which were regularly productive on
the return of every fair and market day, for taking examinations of the
peace, and filling up warrants of apprehension against the perpetrators
of broken heads and bloody noses, consoled me in my voluntary exile
from Real Life in London. I was in all respects regarded as one of the
family; had a horse at my command, visited in friendly intimacy the
neighbouring gentry; and, above all, enjoyed the eccentricities of the
lower Irish; most particularly so when before his honour, detailing, to
his great annoyance, a story of an hour long about a tester (sixpence),
and if he grew impatient, attributing it to some secret prejudice which
he entertained against them.{1}
1 Their method is to get a story completely by heart, and to
tell it, as they call it, out of the face, that is, from the
beginning to the end without interruption.
“Well, my good friend, I have seen you lounging about these
three hours in the yard, what is your business?”
“Plase your honour, it is what I want to speak one word to
your honour.”
“Speak then, but be quick. What is the matter?”
“The matter, plase your honour, is nothing at all at all,
only just about the grazing of a horse, plase your honour,
that this man here sold me at the fair of Gurtishannon last
Shrove fair, which lay down three times with myself, plase
your honour, and kilt me; not to be telling your honour of
how, no later back than yesterday night, he lay down in the
house there within, and all the children standing round, and
it was God's mercy he did not fall a-top of them, or into
the fire to burn himself. So, plase your honour, to-day I
took him back to this man, which owned him, and after a
great deal to do I got the mare again I swopped (exchanged)
him for; but he won't pay the grazing of the horse for the
time I had him, though he promised to pay the grazing in
case the horse didn't answer; and he never did a day's work,
good or bad, plase your honour, all the time he was with me,
and I had the doctor to him five times, any how. And so,
plase your honour, it is what I expect your honour will
stand my friend, for I'd sooner come to your honour for
justice than to any other in all Ireland. And so I brought
him here before your honour, and expect your honour will
make him pay me the grazing, or tell me, can I process him
for it at the next assizes, plase your honour?”
The defendant now, turning a quid of tobacco with his
tongue into some secret cavern in his mouth, begins his
defence with
“Plase your honour, under favour, and saving your honour's
presence, there's not a word of truth in all this man has
been saying from beginning to end, upon my conscience, and I
would not for the value of the horse itself, grazing and
all, be after telling your honour a lie. For, plase your
honour, I have a dependance upon your honour that you'll do
me justice, and not be listening to him or the like of him.
Plase your honour, it is what he has brought me before your
honour, because he had a spite against me about some oats I
sold your honour, which he was jealous of, and a shawl his
wife got at my shister's shop there without, and never paid
for, so I offered to set the shawl against the grazing, and
give him a receipt in full of all demands, but he wouldn't,
out of spite, plase your honour; so he brought me before
your honour, expecting your honour was mad with me for
cutting down the tree in the horse park, which was none of
my doing, plase your honour;--ill luck to them that went
and belied me to your honour behind my back. So if your
honour is plasing, I'll tell you the whole truth about the
horse that he swopped against my mare, out of the face:--
Last Shrove fair I met this man, Jemmy Duffy, plase your
honour, just at the corner of the road where the bridge is
broke down, that your honour is to have the present for this
year--long life to you for it! And he was at that time
coming from the fair of Gurtishannon, and 1 the same way:
'How are you, Jemmy?' says I. 'Very well, I thank you,
Bryan,' says he: 'shall we turn back to Paddy Salmon's, and
take a naggin of whiskey to our better acquaintance?' 'I
don't care if I did, Jemmy,' says I, 'only it is what I
can't take the whiskey, because I'm under an oath against it
for a month.' Ever since, plase your honour, the day your
honour met me on the road, and observed to me I could hardly
stand, I had taken so much--though upon my conscience your
honour wronged me greatly that same time--ill luck to them
that belied me behind my back to your honour! Well, plase
your honour, as I was telling you, as he was taking the
whiskey, and we talking of one thing or t'other, he makes me
an offer to swop his mare that he couldn't sell at the fair
of Gurtishannou, because nobody would be troubled with the
beast, plase your honour, against my horse; and to oblige
him I took the mare--sorrow take her, and him along with
her! She kicked me a new car, that was worth three pounds
ten, to tatters, the first time I ever put her into it, and
I expect your honour will make him pay me the price of the
car, any how, before I pay the grazing, which I have no
right to pay at all at all, only to oblige him. But I leave
it all to your honour; and the whole grazing he ought to be
charging for the beast is but two and eight pence halfpenny,
any how, plase your honour. So I'll abide by what your
honour says, good or bad; I'll leave it all to your honour.”
I'll leave it all to your honour, literally means, I'll
leave all the trouble to your honour.
~25~~But this pleasant life was not decreed much longer to endure,
the insurrection broke out, during which an incident occurred that had
nearly terminated all my then cares in this life, past, present, and to
come.
“In my capacity as clerk or secretary, I had written one morning for
the worthy magistrate, two letters, both containing remittances, the one
150L. and the other 100L. in bank of Ireland bills. We were situated at
the distance of fifteen miles from the nearest market town, and as the
times were perilous and my employer unwilling to entrust property to the
precarious conveyance of subordinate agency, he requested that I would
take a morning ride, and with my own hands deliver these letters at
the post-office. Accordingly I set out, and had arrived to within three
miles of my destination, when my further progress was opposed by two
men in green uniform, who, with supported arms and fixed bayonets,
were pacing the road to and fro as sentinels, in a very steady and
soldier-like manner. On the challenge of one of these fellows, with arms
at port demanding the countersign, I answered that I had none to give,
that I was travelling on lawful business to the next town, and required
to know by what authority he stopt me on the King's highway, “By the
powers,” he exclaimed, “this is my authority then,” and immediately
brought his musket to the charge against the chest of my horse. I now
learnt that the town had been taken possession of that morning by a
division of the army of the people, for so the insurgents had styled
themselves. “You may turn your nag homewards if you choose,” said the
sentry; “but if you persist in going into the town, I must pass you, by
the different out-posts, to the officer on duty.” The business in which
I was engaged not admitting of delay, I preferred advancing, and was
ushered, ultimately, to the notice of the captain of the guard, who
very kindly informed me, that his general would certainly order me to be
hanged as a spy, unless I could exhibit good proof of the contrary. With
this comfortable assurance, I was forthwith introduced into the presence
of the rebel general. He was a portly good-looking man, apparently about
the age of forty, not more; wore a green uniform, with gold embroidery,
and was engaged in signing dispatches, which his secretary successively
sealed and superscribed; his staff were in attendance, and a
provost-marshal in waiting to perform the office of summary execution on
those to whom the general might attach suspicion. The insurgent leader
~26~~now enquiring, with much austerity, my name, profession, from
whence I came, the object of my coming, and lastly, whether or not I
was previously aware of the town being in possession of the army of the
people, I answered these interrogatories by propounding the question,
who the gentleman was to whom I had the honour of addressing myself,
and under what authority I was considered amenable to his inquisition.
“Answer my enquiries, Sir,” he replied, “without the impertinency of
idle circumlocution, otherwise I shall consider you as a spy, and my
provost-marshal shall instantly perform on your person the duties of
his office!” I now resorted to my letters; I had no other alternative
between existence and annihilation. Explaining, therefore, who I
was, and by whom employed, “These letters,” I added, “are each in my
hand-writing, and both contain remittances; I came to this town for the
sole purpose of putting them into the post-office, and I was not aware,
until informed by your scouts, that the place was in the occupation of
an enemy.” He deigned not a reply farther than pointing to one of
the letters, and demanding to know the amount of the bill which it
enveloped; I answered, “One hundred and fifty pounds.” He immediately
broke the seal, examined the bill, and found that it was correct. “Now,
Sir,” he continued, “sit down, and write from my dictation.” He dictated
from the letter which he had opened, and when I had finished the
copy, compared it next with the original characters, expressed his
satisfaction at their identity, and returning the letters, licensed my
departure, when and to where I list, observing, that I was fortunate in
having had with me those testimonials of business, “Otherwise,” said he,
“your appearance, under circumstances of suspicion, might have led to a
fatal result.”--“You may be assured, gentlemen,” continued the narrator,
“that I did not prolong my stay in the town beyond the shortest
requisite period; two mounted dragoons, by order of their general,
escorted me past the outposts, and I reached home in safety. These
occurrences took place on a Saturday. The triumph of the insurgent
troops was of short duration; they were attacked that same night by the
King's forces, discomfited, and their daring chieftain taken prisoner.
On the Monday following his head, stuck upon a pike, surmounted the
market-house of Belfast. The scenes of anarchy and desperation in which
that ~27~~ unfortunate country became now involved, rendered it no very
desirable residence. I therefore procured a passport, bid adieu to the
Emerald Isle, Erin ma vorneen slan leet go bragh! and once more returned
to London, to experience a renewal of that misfortune by which I have,
with little interval, been hitherto accompanied, during the whole period
of my eventful life.”
The two strangers had listened to the narrative with mingled sensations
of compassion and surprise, the one feeling excited by the peculiarity,
the other by the pertinacity of his misfortunes, when their cogitations
were interrupted by a dissonant clamour amongst the prisoners, who, it
appeared, had united in enmity against an unlucky individual, whom they
were dragging towards the discipline of the pump with all the eagerness
of inflexible vengeance.
On enquiry into the origin of this uproar, it was ascertained that one
of the prisoners under a charge of slight assault, had been visited by
this fellow, who, affecting to commiserate his situation, proposed to
arrange matters with his prosecutor for his immediate release, with
other offers of gratuitous assistance. This pretended friend was
recognised by one of the prisoners as a kidnapper.
A kidnapper, or crimp, is one of those fellows of abandoned principles,
who enter into the pay of the East India Company in order to recruit
their army, and when a guinea or two is advertised to be given to any
person that brings a proper man of five feet eight or nine inches high,
lie in wait to entrap men for the money. Some of these gentry assume
the character of officers, others of Serjeants, drummers, and recruits,
without the least shadow of commission among them. They have many
ways of inveigling the artless and unthinking. One or two of these
kidnappers, dressed as countrymen, go five or six miles out of town to
meet the waggons and stages, and enquire if John Such-a-one is come up,
which is answered in the negative, no such person being known; they
then enter into discourse with the countrymen, and being perfectly
complaisant, engage attention, and by the time they get to London, learn
their occupations and business to town; whether they are in search of
places, trades, or intend to return home again, which intelligence
they in general profit by. Coming to the place of rendezvous, the ~28~~
kidnappers propose a pint of porter, which being agreed on, they enter
the house where their companions are in waiting, enjoy themselves over
flowing bowls, and exhilirating their spirits with loyal toasts and
songs, begin their business by enquiring who is willing to serve His
Majesty. The countryman, if inclined thereto, is generally deceived; if
his desire is for the guards, or any other particular regiment, there
are at hand mock Serjeants and privates, who will swear they belong to
the corps, and the dupe is trepanned for the East Indies, hurried on
board a ship, or kept in some dismal place of security till a sufficient
number is collected, and an opportunity serves to send them away.
On the other hand, should the countryman be averse to enlisting, and
talk of going away, these crimps will swear that he has received a
shilling or more of the bounty-money, insisting that they saw him put
the money into such and such a pocket; it is in vain that the countryman
denies having received it, search is made, money found, and he is
compelled to submit or pay the smart.
Others again, of these prowlers, frequent the places of confinement, and
learning the particular case of some prisoner for small debt or slight
assault, kindly otter to mediate with the prosecutor or creditor
in effecting liberation. The pretended friend assumes the most
disinterested feeling of sympathy, ingratiates himself into confidence,
and generally terminates his machinations with success; accomplishes the
prisoner's release, and sends him ultimately from temporary duresse to
perpetual exile.
Such was the character of the fellow now placed in the ominous guidance
of an exasperated multitude; they urged him forward to the place of
punishment; but the tumultuary assemblage were disappointed in their
anticipated vengeance, by the interposition of the turnkeys, and the
pretended friend escaped the meditated castigation.
“Observe, again,” said the narrator, “that dashing young fellow, arrayed
in the first style of dandyism.”
“My good fellow,” interrupted Bob, “he is not, I should think, one of
the community; he has, apparently, the manners of the well bred and
accomplished gentleman.” “And for that very reason, Sir, is the better
qualified to ~29~~ carry on his profession with impunity; he whom you
dignify with the appellation of a well bred and accomplished gentleman,
is all that you have expressed of him, with the exception of one word,
that is, substitute for gentleman, swindler, and the character is justly
delineated. This fellow, of desperate enterprize, is one of the numerous
practitioners of knavery, who set themselves up for men of property
and integrity, the more easily to defraud the unwary and ignorant out of
their substance and effects. This Spark, connecting himself with several
others of similar pursuit, they took a genteel house in a respectable
part of the town, and dividing themselves into classes of masters,
clerks, out-riders, shopmen, porters, and servants, and thus making
a show of opulence, they easily obtained credit, and laid in goods of
every kind, which they sent into the country and sold, or bartered for
other commodities; these commodities they brought up to London, and sold
for ready money, generally taking in exchange double the quantity, and
paying for the same with notes of their own drawing, indorsing, and
fabricating, for the purpose of cheating the poor deluded farmer,
shopkeeper, and tradesman in the interior of the country. With respect
to tradesmen in town, the goods they took of them on trust they disposed
of to Jews, and other receivers of stolen goods, at about thirty per
cent under value, for ready money, nay, forty per cent rather than not
have the cash; and as their stay in one place could not safely exceed
five months, on account of their creditors calling in their debts,
and their country notes becoming due, they used to make all possible
dispatch to dispose of the various articles, and evacuate the premises
before detection. This done, they played the same game elsewhere, when,
_Proteus_ like, they changed shapes, and disguised themselves so as
not to be known, and carried on business in another house, but in a
different name; the master became the rider, the rider the master, the
clerks descended to footmen and porters, the footmen to porters and
clerks, and so on throughout, until they had drained many parts of the
town and country, to the ruin of several worthy and honest families.
However, the co-partnership is now dissolved, the establishment is broke
up, and the different individuals of this nefarious gang of depredators,
of whom the well bred and accomplished gentleman, the subject of our
remarks, is one of the principals, are consigned to ~30~~ different
gaols for further examination and final commitment.”
Dashall expressed thanks for the interesting communication, and the
Squire his astonishment that the credulity of man could warrant the hope
of success to such a combination, however systematically arranged; and
where so many were concerned (and the distribution of plunder perhaps by
no means equalized,) that some dissatisfied individual did not renounce
the dangerous connection in the hope of impunity and reward.
“We know not that there is any subordinate division of spoil,” said the
other; “but if such there be, it may in this union of interests be the
maxim as with other co-partnership concerns, that he, by whatsoever
means, who contributes the most to the general stock, shall participate
the most in the general benefit.
“Swindlers have other means of cheating and tricking the public, such
as answering the advertisements of tradesmen who are in want of a sum to
make good a payment, and offering, in consideration of a small premium,
to get them the money required, on their note of hand, which they
premise must be first given, and the money will be immediately advanced;
the necessitated person agrees to the terms, and unthinkingly gives
his note, which one of the Swindlers carries away, with a promise of a
speedy return with the money wanted, but neither Swindler nor note
is forthcoming until it becomes due, after having passed through
many different hands, some of whom can ascertain giving a valuable
consideration for the same, and fix the drawer to the payment, whose
consolation for his credulity is, paying the money or going to prison.
“In case of a stagnation of trade, the Swindlers advertise themselves to
borrow or lend upon good security. If they borrow, they have sham deeds,
and make false conveyance of estates in _nubibus_, nobody knows where;
if they lend, they artfully inveigle the borrower out of his security,
which they take up money upon and convert to their own use, without
the deluded person's knowledge; and by absconding, leave him to the
mortification of descanting on their roguery, and his own want of
foresight.”
~31~~ The triumvirate were once more interrupted; a newcomer had
arrived, and the prisoners hailed his initiation with the first stanza
of an old song:--
“Welcome, welcome, brother debtor,
To this poor, but merry place,
Where no Bailiff, Dun, nor Setter,{1}
Dares to shew his frightful face:
But, kind Sir, as you're a stranger,
Down your garnish you must lay,
Else your coat will be in danger,--
You must either strip or pay!”
1 Setters--This appellation is applicable to others than
those-alluded to in the above stanza, as connected with Duns
and Bailiffs. They are a dangerous set of wretches, who are
capable of committing any villany, as well by trepanning a
rich heir into matrimony with a cast-off mistress or common
prostitute, as by coupling a young heiress with a notorious
sharper, down to the lowest scene of setting debtors for the
bailiff and his followers. Smitten with the first glance of
the lady, you resign your heart, the conjugal knot is tied,
and, like the Copper Captain, you find the promised land,
houses, and furniture, the property of another, and not of
yourself.
The novitiate, neither surprised at his reception, nor adverse to the
custom of the place, seemed quite at home, paid his garnish without
hesitation, and entered at once into the vacuum of indifference with his
new associates.
The attention of Dashall and Tallyho was attracted by the clank of
fetters, as one of the prisoners squatted himself on the pavement of
the yard. Leaning his back against the wall, he commenced darning an old
stocking, chanting at same time an old song from the Beggar's Opera,
as if predicting his own fate, yet with a manner indicating the most
callous indifference--
“Since laws were made for every degree,
To curb vice in others as well as in me,
I wonder we ha'n't better company
Upon Tyburn tree.----
But gold from law can take out the sting,
And if rich men like us were to swing,
'Twould thin the land, such numbers would string
Upon Tyburn tree.----
The irreclaimable depravity of this man could not excite any urgent
feeling of sympathy in his behalf, and our two friends took no further
notice of him.
~32~~ Their Intelligencer, who in the meanwhile had gone forth for
information, now advancing,--“I thought,” said he, “that I had seen
elsewhere this Johnny Newcome; he is a sharper, another precious
addition to our respectable community.”{1}
“Respectable, indeed,” exclaimed Tallyho, as he detected an urchin thief
in the act of picking his pocket of his handkerchief. This hopeful imp,
though young in years, was experienced in iniquity, had served an active
apprenticeship to the art of picking pockets with impunity,
1 The Sharper, who has generally had a genteel education, is
a person of good address and conversation, has more the
power of delusion at will than the unlettered cheat, devoid
of address and other requisites to complete the pretended
gentleman, and therefore should be more carefully avoided.
These villains, having run through their fortunes at an
early period of life by associating with professed gamblers
and sharpers, (who having eased them of their money, in
return complete them for the profession by which they have
been ruined) set up for themselves, throw aside honour and
conscience, and quote the lex talionis for deceiving others,
as they themselves have been deceived. These gentry are to
be met with at horse-races, cock-fights, the billiard and
hazard tables, and at all public places of diversion. On
your entering the coffee-house, tavern, or gaming-house, the
Sharper views you with attention, and is not long before he
becomes acquainted and very intimate with you; if you agree
to his proposal to play, if he cannot beat you by fair, he
will by foul means. Rather than lose, he will elude your
attention, and raise your passion sufficiently to put you
off your guard, while he plays his underhand game, and
cheats you before your face; and though you are sensible of
being cheated, yet you shall not be able to discover by what
means it is effected. The various methods sharpers have to
cheat and deceive are so many and unaccountable, that it
would exceed the limits of our publication to detail even
the tenth-part of them; their study is to supply their
exigencies by means within their power, however wicked or
villanous. If you associate with sharpers, you must not only
expect, but deserve to be cheated by them for your
credulity; for who would go with his eyes open into a den of
thieves, but in expectation of being robbed? Or, who would
herd with sharpers, and not expect to be cheated? We would
therefore advise the stranger in London to shun these
reptiles of the creation, fraught with guile, and artful as
the serpent to delude. Beware of their conversation, avoid
their company, take no notice of their tricks, nor be caught
by their wheedling professions of friendship; listen not to
any of their enticements, if you would preserve your peace
and property; be not fond of making new acquaintance with
persons you do not know, however genteel in appearance and
behaviour, for many a villain lurks under the disguise of a
modern fine gentle-man; and if any stranger asks you to play
with him for money, set him down in your mind as a Sharper,”
and leave the room immediately.
~33~~and at last became so great an adept in the profession, that at
the early age of thirteen years he was unanimously elected captain of
an organized band of juvenile depredators, some much younger, none older
than himself, who for a considerable length of time set at defiance the
vigilance of the police. These young fry carried on a long protracted
successful war of extermination against ladies' reticules. One urchin,
watching her approach, would lay himself across the path she must pass,
and it frequently happened that she tumbled over him; a grab was then
made at the reticule, the watch, and the shawl, with which the young
villains generally got clear off. Others, in detachments of two or
three, would hover about the door or window of a tradesman's shop, cut
out a pane of glass, and abstract some valuable trinket; or watch the
retirement of the shopkeeper into his back-room, when one of the most
enterprizing would enter on hands and knees, crawl round the counter
with the stillness of death, draw out the till with its contents, and
bear off the spoil with impunity. One night, however, luckily for the
public, the whole gang was made prisoners of, and dispersed to various
gaols, each delinquent being ordered a severe flogging and solitary
confinement. Availing himself of this indulgence, the Captain had
watched the opportunity of approximating towards Tallyho, and was
detected, as we said before, in the exercise of his former propensities;
so difficult it is to eradicate vice from the human mind, even though
in this instance so early implanted. Lenity in this case would have been
equally misplaced as unjust, although the Squire humanely pressed his
intercession; the incorrigible pilferer was therefore handed over to
the custody of one of the turnkeys, until the Governor might award a
punishment suitable to the heinousness of the offence.
The two friends had been here above an hour--it was an hour they thought
not idly spent. And now leaving a small donation for distribution
amongst such as appeared deserving objects, they returned home gratified
by the additional knowledge acquired of _Real Life in London_.~34~~