Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II. Egan Pierce
“Ah, very well (replied the other,) let us have
another quart, and then I am your man for a bit of a lark.”
By this time they had learned that the Comedian was but
newly arrived in town; and he on the other hand was desirous
of seeing what they meant to be up to. After another quart
they were about to move, when, said one to the other, “As we
are only going to have a stroll and a bit of fun, perhaps
that there young man would like to join us.”
“Ah, what say you, Sir? have you any objection? but perhaps
you have business on hand and are engaged—”
“No, I have nothing particular to do,” was the reply. “Very
well, then if you like to go with us, we shall be glad of
your company.”
“Well (said he,) I don't care if I do spend an hour with
you.” And with that they sallied forth.
After rambling about for some time in the vicinity of
Tottenham Court Road, shewing him some of the Squares, &c.
describing the names of streets, squares, and buildings,
they approached St. Giles's, and leading him under a
gateway, “Stop, (said one) we must call upon Jack, you know,
for old acquaintance sake,” and gave a loud knock at the
door; which being opened without a word, they all walked in,
and the door was instantly lock'd. He was now introduced to
a man of squalid appearance, with whom they all shook hands:
the mode of introduction was not however of so satis-factory
a description as had been expected, being very laconic, and
conveyed in the following language:—“We have got him.”
“Yes, yes, it is all right—come, Jack, serve us out some
grog, and then to business.”
The poor Comedian in the mean time was left in the utmost
anxiety and surprise to form an opinion of his situation;
for as he had heard something about trepanning, pressing,
&c. he could not help entertaining serious suspicion that he
should either be com-pelled to serve as a soldier or a
sailor; and as he had no intention “to gain a name in arms,”
they were neither of them suitable to his inclinations.
“Come,” (said one) walk up stairs and sit down—Jack, bring
the lush “—and up stairs they went.
Upon entering a gloomy room, somewhat large, with only a
small candle, he had not much opportunity of discovering
what sort of a place it was, though it looked wretched
enough. The grog was brought—“Here's all round the grave-
stone, (said one)—come, drink away, my hearty—don't be
alarm'd, we are rum fellows, and we'll put you up to a rig
or two—we are got a rum covey in the corner there, and you
must lend us a hand to get rid of him:” then, holding up the
light, what was the surprise of the poor Comedian to espy a
dead body of a man—“You can help us to get him away, and
by G——you shall, too, it's of no use to flinch now.”
A circumstance of this kind was new to him, so that his
perplexity was only increased by the discovery; but he
plainly perceived by the last declaration, that having
engaged in the business, it would be of no use to leave it
half done: he therefore remained silent upon the subject,
drank his grog, when Jack came up stairs to say the cart was
ready.
“Lend a hand, (said one of them) let us get our load down
stairs—come, my Master, turn to with a good heart, all's
right.”
With this the body was conveyed down stairs.
At the back of the house was a small yard separated from a
neighbouring street by a wall—a signal was given by some
one on the other side which was understood by those within—
it was approaching nine o'clock, and a dark night—“Come,
(said one of them,) mount you to the top of the wall, and
ding the covey over to the carcass-carter.” This being
complied with, the dead body was handed up to him, which was
no sooner done than the Carman outside, perceiving the
Watchman approach—“It von't do,” said he, and giving a
whistle, drove his cart with an assumed air of carelessness
away; while the poor Comedian, who had a new character to
support, in which he did not conceive himself well up,{1}
was holding the dead man on his lap with the legs projecting
over the wall; it was a situation of the utmost delicacy and
there was no time to recast the part, he was therefore,
obliged to blunder through it as well as he could; the
perspiration of the living man fell plentifully on the
features of the dead as the Charley approached in a position
to pass directly under him. Those inside had sought the
shelter of the house, telling him to remain quiet till the
old Scout was gone by. Now although he was not fully
acquainted with the consequences of discovery, he was
willing and anxious to avoid them: he therefore took the
advice, and scarcely moved or breathed—“Past nine o'clock,”
said the Watchman, as he passed under the legs of the dead
body without looking up, though he was within an inch of
having his castor brushed off by them. Being thus relieved,
he was happy to see the cart return; he handed over the
unpleasant burthen, and as quick as possible afterwards
descended from his elevated situation into the street,
determining at all hazards to see the result of this to him
extraordinary adventure; with this view he followed the cart
at a short distance, keeping his eye upon it as he went
along; and in one of the streets leading to Long Acre, he
perceived a man endeavouring to look into the back part of
the cart, but was diverted from his object by one of the men
who had introduced him to the house, while another of the
confederates snatched the body from the cart, and ran with
all speed down another street in an opposite direction. This
movement had attracted the notice of