The Mysteries of London. George W. M. Reynolds
with every thing at all relating to the business.
"I now come to more interesting matters. I had been with my master about six years, and was then going on for twenty-one, when my father died. My mother sent for me home to help her in the business; and I now had the command of money. The taste for gambling which I had imbibed in my boyhood, returned with additional force; and I sought every opportunity of gratifying my inclination in this respect. I frequented a notorious public-house in Suffolk Street, where gaming was carried on to a great extent; and my ill-luck seemed unvaried. My mother did all she could to check the progress of this infatuation; but it was invincible; and in the course of three years I had completely ruined both my mother and myself. An execution was put into the house for rent, and my mother died of a broken heart. I shed a few tears, and then looked round me for some occupation.
"One of the persons who frequented the public-house in Suffolk Street offered to recommend me to a friend of his, who kept an auction-room in the City. I gladly accepted the proposal, and was engaged as 'a bidder,' at that establishment. I will tell you what I had to do: the auction was carried on in an open warehouse in a great thoroughfare. The articles put up for sale were all of the most worthless description—razors, made (like Peter Pindar's) to sell, and not to cut; pen-knives, that would inflict no damage upon a piece of wood; decanters, that would scarcely resist the pressure of the most delicate lady's hand; candlesticks, made of a metal that would melt if held too close to the fire; urns, that sprang a leak the moment hot water was poured into them; watches, that were never known to go beyond the first four-and-twenty hours; scissors, that would not sever a thread; snuffers, that merely crushed without diminishing the wick; teapots, made of polished pewter, and warranted as silver; in a word, every species of domestic rubbish of this kind, occupied the counters and tables in the auction-room. Myself and three others were hired as bidders. Our duty was to offer a price for every article put up, and buy it in if it appeared likely to go to a stranger at too low a price—although, indeed, few prices were too low for the articles on which they were put. Then, when a greenhorn entered the mart, we were to puff off the articles amongst ourselves in his hearing—never talking to him, but talking at him. The master was perched up behind a high desk, using his hammer with exemplary alacrity, and knocking down article after article to the flats that came in and bid. Sometimes the dupes would come back the following day, and demand the return of their money, as they had ascertained that the goods for which they had parted with it were worthless: it was then our duty to hustle such obstreperous claimants, bonnet them, or, in extreme cases, knock them down, and then give them into custody for creating a disturbance.
"In this situation I remained for three years. The master was very good to us, and gave us a present every time he effected large sales by our means. One afternoon an elderly gentleman entered the mart, and stood bidding for some cut decanters. They had been invoiced to the proprietor of the establishment for six shillings, and the lowest price at which they were to be knocked down was two pounds ten. The bidding was rather slow; and I retreated a pace or two behind the old gentleman, to avoid having the appearance of being anxious to make myself conspicuous. In that position I observed the corner of a red pocket-book peeping out of his coat tail. I glanced around: no one noticed me; and in a moment I abstracted the inviting object. This was the first theft I ever committed; and bad as I already was, the moment I had that pocket-book safe in my possession, I would have given the world for it to have been back again in its former place. The deed was however done; and I evaporated from the auction mart with the rapidity of thought.
"I was not such an idiot as to return to my lodgings; but I hastened into the vicinity of Smithfield, and entered a public-house in Chick Lane. The parlour—a little slip, with a single window looking upon the street—was fortunately empty; and I immediately examined my treasure. And true enough it was a treasure! It contained eight hundred pounds in Bank of England notes, together with bills of exchange to the amount of three thousand. There were also letters and cards of address, which showed me who the old gentleman was. He was a rich landholder in the county of Hants. I enclosed the bills of exchange and the letters in a sheet of paper, and returned them through the post to their owner. The Bank notes I kept. But I was now at a loss how to act; for I fancied that if the notes had been stopped, there would be danger in attempting to pass them. After I had put the letter in the post, I returned to the public-house in Chick Lane, and meditated upon the best course to pursue. While I was sitting in the parlour, over a glass of brandy-and-water, pondering upon this very difficult matter, a man entered, sate down, called for some liquor, and got into conversation with me. By degrees we grew confidential; and he let me know that he was a member of the swell-mob. I opened my heart to him; and he immediately offered to take me to a place where I could change my notes.
"I thankfully accepted his proposal; and he led me into Field Lane. There he entered a shop where they sold salt fish, herrings, haddocks, and oysters. He asked a dirty-looking girl if Israel Moses was at home; and, receiving an affirmative answer, led the way up a narrow, dark, and dirty staircase, to a room where an old Jew, with a face almost completely concealed by grisly white hair, was sitting at a table covered with papers. My guide immediately communicated to him the object of my visit; and the old Jew questioned me closely relative to the way in which I had obtained the Bank notes. My companion advised me to tell him the exact truth, which I did; and the Jew then offered me six hundred pounds in gold for my eight hundred pounds' worth of notes. He explained to me that he should be compelled to send them to his agents in Paris, Hamburgh, and Amsterdam, to get rid of them; and that he could therefore afford to give me no more. I accepted his proposal, received the gold, and departed, accompanied by my new friend, who was no other than Dick Flairer.
"I made him a handsome present for his counsel and assistance, and was about to part from him, when he told me that I had better take care of myself for a few days until the hue and cry concerning the pocket-book should be over. He asked me to accompany him to his lodgings in Castle Street, Saffron Hill. I agreed; and there I first met his sister Mary. In the evening Dick went out, to ascertain, as he said, 'how the wind blew.' He came back at a late hour, and brought me a copy of a hand-bill that had been printed and circulated, and which gave not only a full description of the robbery, but also a most painfully accurate account of my person. Dick assured me that I was not safe in his lodgings, as he himself was a suspicious character in the neighbourhood; and he advised me to hide myself in a certain house which he knew in Chick Lane. I followed his advice, and proceeded to the Old House, where I lay concealed in that horrid dungeon under ground for a mortal fortnight. Mary brought me my food every other day, and gave me information of what was going on outside. She told me that the newspapers had published an account of the return of the bills of exchange and letters by post; and that the same organs stated that the old gentleman who had been robbed was unwilling to proceed any farther on that very account. At length Dick came himself, and assured me that I might leave the dungeon; but that it would be better for me to remain quiet in some snug place for a few weeks. I proposed to him a trip into the country; he agreed; and Mary accompanied us.
"We went down to Canterbury, and took lodgings on the Herne Bay road, close by the barracks. Dick and I used to visit all the neighbouring towns, and see what we could pick up; but we led a jovial life, spending much more than we got, and thus making desperate inroads into my funds. My old habits of gambling returned; and the gold which I had received from the Jew was disappearing very rapidly. We had left London for upwards of eight months, when we thought of returning to our old haunts. Mary seemed quite averse to the proposal, and was most anxious to remain a short time longer where she was. To this Dick agreed; and he and I came up to town. We went to the Boozing-ken on Saffron Hill, and there took up our quarters. Dick introduced me to Bill Bolter; and as it happened that our funds were all low, we resolved upon adopting some means to replenish our purses. Happening to take up the Times, I saw an advertisement, according to which a wealthy jeweller and goldsmith in the Strand required a porter. I made a remark which led Dick Flairer to observe, that if I chose to take the situation, he could get me a reference, as he knew one of the largest linen-drapers in Norton Folgate, who was in the habit of buying stolen goods of the cracksmen of Dick's gang, and would not dare refuse to perform the part required. The plan was settled: I applied for the situation, gave the reference, and in two days