Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.
to the little ragged Petitioner, 'who held out her handful of matches
continuing her solicitations. Bob put his hand in his pocket, and gave
her sixpence.
“We shall never get on at this rate,” said Tom; “and I find I must again
advise you not to believe all you hear and see. These little ragged
run-abouts are taught by their Parents a species of imposition or
deception of which you are not aware, and while perhaps you congratulate
yourself with 'the thought of having done a good act, you are only
contributing to the idleness and dissipation of a set of hardened
beings, who are laughing at your credulity; and I suspect this is a case
in point--do you see that woman on the opposite side of the way, and the
child giving her the money?”
“I do,” said Tallyho; “that, I suppose, is her mother?”
“Probably,” continued Dashall--“now mark what will follow.”
They stopped a short time, and observed that the Child very soon
disposed of her last bunch of matches, as she had termed them, gave the
money to the woman, who supplied her in return with another last bunch,
to be disposed of in a similar way.
“Is it possible?” said Bob.
“Not only possible, but you see it is actual; it is not however the only
species of deceit practised with success in London in a similar way;
indeed the trade of match-making has latterly been a good one among
those who have been willing to engage in it. Many persons of decent
appearance, representing themselves to be tradesmen and mechanics out
of employ, have placed themselves at the corners of our streets, and
canvassed the outskirts of the town, with green bags, carrying matches,
which, by telling a pityful tale, they induce housekeepers and others,
who commiserate their situation, to purchase; and, in the evening, are
able to figure away in silk stockings with the produce of their labours.
There is one man, well known in town, who makes a very good livelihood
by bawling in a stentorian voice,
“Whow whow, will you buy my good matches,
Whow whow, will you buy my good matches,
Buy my good matches, come buy'em of me.”
~279~~ He is usually dressed in something like an old military great
coat, wears spectacles, and walks with a stick.”
“And is a match for any body, match him who can,”, cried Frank Harry;
“But, bless your heart, that's nothing to another set of gentry, who
have infested our streets in clean apparel, with a broom in their hands,
holding at the same time a hat to receive the contributions of the
passengers, whose benevolent donations are drawn forth without inquiry
by the appearance of the applicant.”
“It must,” said Tallyho, “arise from the distresses of the times.”
“There may be something in that,” said Tom; “but in many instances it
has arisen from the depravity of the times--to work upon the well-known
benevolent feelings of John Bull; for those who ambulate the public
streets of this overgrown and still increasing Metropolis and its
principal avenues, are continually pestered with impudent impostors, of
both sexes, soliciting charity--men and women, young and old, who get
more by their pretended distresses in one day than many industrious and
painstaking tradesmen or mechanics do in a week. All the miseries,
all the pains of life, with tears that ought to be their honest and
invariable signals, can be and are counterfeited--limbs, which enjoy the
fair proportion of nature, are distorted, to work upon humanity--fits
are feigned and wounds manufactured--rags, and other appearances of the
most squalid and abject poverty, are assumed, as the best engines of
deceit, to procure riches to the idle and debaucheries to the infamous.
Ideal objects of commiseration are undoubtedly to be met with, though
rarely to be found. It requires a being hackneyed in the ways of men, or
having at least some knowledge of the town, to be able to discriminate
the party deserving of benevolence; but
“A begging they will go will go,
And a begging they will go.”
The chief cause assigned by some for the innumerable classes of
mendicants that infest our streets, is a sort of innate principle of
independence and love of liberty. However, it must be apparent that they
do not like to work, and to beg they are not ashamed; they are,
with very few exceptions, lazy and impudent. And then what ~280~~ is
collected from the humane but deluded passengers is of course expended
at their festivals in Broad Street, St. Giles's, or some other equally
elegant and appropriate part of the town, to which we shall at an early
period pay a visit. Their impudence is intolerable; for, if refused
a contribution, they frequently follow up the denial with the vilest
execrations.
“To make the wretched blest,
Private charity is best.”
“The common beggar spurns at your laws; indeed many of their arts are so
difficult of detection, that they are enabled to escape the vigilance of
the police, and with impunity insult those who do not comply with their
wishes, seeming almost to say,
“While I am a beggar I will rail,
And say there is no sin but to be rich;
And being rich, my virtue then shall be,
To say there is no vice but beggary.”
“Begging has become so much a sort of trade, that parents have been
known to give their daughters or sons the begging of certain streets in
the metropolis as marriage portions; and some years ago some scoundrels
were in the practice of visiting the outskirts of the town in sailors'
dresses, pretending to be dumb, and producing written papers stating
that their tongues had been cut out by the Algerines, by which means
they excited compassion, and were enabled to live well.”
“No doubt it is a good trade,” said Merry well, “and I expected we
should have been made better acquainted with its real advantages by
Capt. Barclay, of walking and sporting celebrity, who, it was said, had
laid a wager of 1000L. that he would walk from London to Edinburgh in
the assumed character of a beggar, pay all his expences of living well
on the road, and save out of his gains fifty pounds.”
“True,” said Tom, “but according to the best account that can be
obtained, that report is without foundation. The establishment, however,
of the Mendicity Society{1}
1 The frauds and impositions practised upon the public are
so numerous, that volumes might be filled by detailing the
arts that have been and are resorted to by mendicants; and
the records of the Society alluded to would furnish
instances that might almost stagger the belief of the most
credulous. The life of the infamous Vaux exhibits numerous
instances in which he obtained money under genteel
professions, by going about with a petition soliciting the
aid and assistance of the charitable and humane; and
therefore are continually cheats who go from door to door
collecting money for distressed families, or for charitable
purposes. It is, however, a subject so abundant, and
increasing by every day's observation, that we shall for the
present dismiss it, as there will be other opportunities in
the course of the work for going more copiously into it.
281~~ is calculated to discover much on this subject, and has already
brought to light many instances of depravity and deception, well
deserving the serious consideration of the public.”
As they approached the end of the Poultry,--“This,” said Dashall, “is
the heart of the first commercial city in the known world. On the right
is the Mansion House, the residence of the Lord Mayor for the time
being.”
The moon had by this time almost withdrawn her cheering beams, and there
was every appearance, from the gathering clouds, of a shower of rain.
“It is rather a heavy looking building, from what I can see at present,”
replied Tallyho.
“Egad!” said Tom, “the appearance of every thing at this moment is
gloomy, let us cross.”
With this, they crossed the road to Debatt's the Pastry Cook's Shop.
“Zounds!” said Tom, casting his eye upon the clock, “it is after ten; I
begin to suspect we must alter our course, and defer a view of the east
to a more favourable opportunity, and particularly as we are likely to
have an accompaniment of water.”
“Never mind,” said Merrywell, “we can very soon be in very comfortable
quarters; besides, a rattler is always to be had or a comfortable
lodging to be procured with an obliging bed-fellow--don't you begin to
croak before there is any occasion for it--what has time to do with us?”
“Aye aye,” said Frank Harry, “don't be after damping us before we
get wet; this is the land of plenty, and there is no fear of being
lost--come along.”
“On the opposite side,” said Tom, addressing his Cousin, “is the Bank of
England; it is a building of large extent and immense business; you can
now only discern its exterior by the light of the lamps; it is however
a place 282~~ to which we must pay a visit, and take a complete survey
upon some future occasion. In the front is the Royal Exchange, the daily
resort of the Merchants and Traders of the Metropolis, to transact their
various business.”
“Come,” said Merry well, “I find we are all upon the right scent--Frank
Harry has promised to introduce us to a house of well known resort in
this neighbourhood--we will shelter ourselves under the staple commodity
of the country--for the Woolsack and the Woolpack, I apprehend, are
synonimous.”
“Well thought of, indeed,” said Dashall; “it is a house where you may
at all times be certain of good accommodation and respectable
society--besides, I have some acquaintance there of long standing, and
may probably meet with them; so have with you, my boys. The Woolpack
in Cornhill,” continued he, addressing himself more particularly to
Tallyho, “is a house that has been long established, and deservedly
celebrated for its general accommodations, partaking as it does of the
triple qualifications of tavern, chop-house, and public-house. Below
stairs is a commodious room for smoking parties, and is the constant
resort of foreigners,{1}
1 There is an anecdote related, which strongly induces a
belief that Christian VII. while in London, visited this
house in company with his dissipated companion, Count
Holcke, which, as it led to the dismissal of Holcke, and the
promotion of the afterwards unfortunate Struensée, and is
perhaps not very generally known, we shall give here.
One day while in London, Count Holcke and Christian vir.
went to a well-known public-house not far from the Bank,
which was much frequented by Dutch and Swedish Captains:
Here they listened to the conversation of the company,
which, as might be expected, was full of expressions of
admiration and astonishment at the splendid festivities
daily given in honour of Christian VII. Count Holcke, who
spoke German in its purity, asked an old Captain what he
thought of his King, and if he were not proud of the honours
paid to him by the English?--“I think (said the old man
dryly) that with such counsellors as Count Holcke, if he
escapes destruction it will be a miracle.”--' Do you know
Count Holcke, my friend, (said the disguised courtier) as
you speak of him thus familiarly?'--“Only by report (replied
the Dane); but every person in Copenhagen pities the young
Queen, attributing the coolness which the King shewed
towards her, ere he set out on his voyage, to the malicious
advice of Holcke.” The confusion of this minion may be
easier conceived than described; whilst the King, giving the
Skipper a handful of ducats, bade him _speak the truth and
shame the devil_. As soon, however, as the King spoke in