Real Life In London Part 9

"Is hospitality, All reality, No formality There you ever see; The free and easy Would so amaze ye, You'd think us all crazy, For dull we never be."

These lines sung with an Irish accent, to the tune of "Morgan Rattler,"

accompanied with a snapping of his fingers, and concluded with a something in imitation of

1 _Tipping Turnups_--This is a phrase made use of among the _prigging_ fraternity, to signify a turn-up--which is to knock down.

~81~~an Irish jilt, were altogether so truly characteristic of the nation to which he belonged, as to afford our Heroes considerable amus.e.m.e.nt. Tom threw him a half-crown, which he picked up with more haste than he had thrown down the mortar in his rage.

"Long life and good luck to the Jontleman!" said Pat. "Sure enough, I won't be after drinking health and success to your Honour's pretty picture, and the devil pitch into his own cabin the fellow that would be after picking a hole or clapping a dirty patch on the coat of St.

Patrick--whiskey for ever, your Honour, huzza--

"A drop of good whiskey Would make a man frisky."

By this time a crowd was gathering round them, and Tom cautioned Bob in a whisper to beware of his pockets. This piece of advice however came too late, for his _blue bird's eye wipe_{l} had taken flight.

"What," said Bob, "is this done in open day?" "Are you all right and tight elsewhere?" said Tom--"if you are, toddle on and say nothing about it.--Open day!" continued he, "aye, the system of _frigging_{2}

1 _Blue bird's eye wipe_--A blue pocket handkerchief with white spots.

2 A cant term for all sorts of thieving. The Life of the celebrated George Barrington, of Old Bailey notoriety, is admirably ill.u.s.trative of this art; which by a more recent development of Hardy Vaux, appears to be almost reduced to a system, notwithstanding the wholesomeness of our laws and the vigilance of our police in their administration. However incredible it may appear, such is the force of habit and a.s.sociation, the latter, notwithstanding he was detected and transported, contrived to continue his depredations during his captivity, returned, at the expiration of his term, to his native land and his old pursuits, was transported a second time, suffered floggings and imprison-ments, without correcting what cannot but be termed the vicious propensities of his nature. He generally spent his mornings in visiting the shops of jewellers, watch-makers, p.a.w.nbrokers, &c. depending upon his address and appearance, and determining to make the whole circuit of the metropolis and not to omit a single shop in either of those branches.

This scheme he actually executed so fully, that he believes he did not leave ten untried in London; for he made a point of commencing early every day, and went regularly through it, taking both sides of the way. His practice on entering a shop was to request to look at gold seals, chains, brooches, rings, or any other small articles of value, and while examining them, and looking the shopkeeper in the face, he contrived by sleight of hand to conceal two or three, sometimes more, as opportunities offered, in the sleeve of his coat, which was purposely made wide. In this practice he succeeded to a very great extent, and in the course of his career was never once detected in the fact, though on two or three occa-sions so much suspicion arose that he was obliged to exert all his effrontery, and to use very high language, in order, as the cant phrase is, to bounce the tradesman out of it; his fashionable appearance, and affected anger at his insinuations, always had the effect of inducing an apology; and in many such cases he has actually carried away the spoil, notwithstanding what pa.s.sed between them, and even gone so far as to visit the same shop again a second and a third time with as good success as at first. This, with his nightly attendance at the Theatres and places of public resort, where he picked pockets of watches, snuff-boxes, &c. was for a length of time the sole business of his life. He was however secured, after secreting himself for a time, convicted, and is now transported for life--as he conceives, sold by another cele-brated Prig, whose real name was Bill White, but better known by the t.i.tle of Conky Beau.

~82~~will be acted on sometimes by the very party you are speaking to--the expertness with which it is done is almost beyond belief."

Bob having ascertained that his handkerchief was the extent of his loss, they pursued their way towards Charing Cross.

"A line of street is intended," continued Tom, "to be made from the Opera House to terminate with that church; and here is the King's Mews, which is now turned into barracks."

"Stop thief! Stop thief!" was at this moment vociferated in their ears by a variety of voices, and turning round, they perceived a well-dressed man at full speed, followed pretty closely by a concourse of people. In a moment the whole neighbourhood appeared to be in alarm. The up-stairs windows were crowded with females--the tradesmen were at their shop-doors--the pa.s.sengers were huddled together in groups, inquiring of each other--"What is the matter?--who is it?--which is him?--what has he done?" while the pursuers were increasing in numbers as they went. The bustle of the scene was new to Bob--Charing Cross and its vicinity was all in motion.

"Come," said Tom, "let us see the end of this--they are sure to _nab_{l} my gentleman before he gets much

1 _Nabbed or nibbled_--Secured or taken.

~83~~farther, so let us _brush_{1} on." Then pulling his Cousin by the arm, they moved forward to the scene of action.

As they approached St. Martin's Lane, the gathering of the crowd, which was now immense, indicated to Tom a capture.

"b.u.t.ton up," said he, "and let us see what's the matter."

"_Arrah be easy_" cried a voice which they instantly recognized to be no other than Pat Murphy's. "I'll hold you, my dear, till the night after Doomsday, though I can't tell what day of the year that is. Where's the man wid the _gould-laced skull-cap_? Sure enough I tought I'd be up wi'

you, and so now you see I'm down upon you."

At this moment a Street-keeper made way through the crowd, and Tom and Bob keeping close in his rear, came directly up to the princ.i.p.al performers in this interesting scene, and found honest Pat Murphy holding the man by his collar, while he was twisting and writhing to get released from the strong and determined grasp of the athletic Hibernian.

Pat no sooner saw our Heroes, than he burst out with a l.u.s.ty "Arroo!

arroo! there's the sweet-looking jontleman that's been robbed by a dirty _spalpeen_ that's not worth the tail of a rotten red-herring. I'll give charge of dis here pick'd bladebone of a dead donkey that walks about in G.o.d's own daylight, dirting his fingers wid what don't belong to him at all at all. So sure as the devil's in his own house, and that's London, you've had your pocket pick'd, my darling, and that's news well worth hearing"--addressing himself to Dashall.

By this harangue it was pretty clearly understood that Murphy had been in pursuit of the pickpocket, and Tom immediately gave charge.

The man, however, continued to declare he was not the right person--"That, so help him G----d, the Irishman had got the wrong bull by the tail--that he was a b----dy _snitch_{2} and that he would _sarve him out_{3}--that he wished

1 _Brush_--Be off.

2 _Snitch_--A term made use of by the light-fingered tribe, to signify an informer, by whom they have been impeached or betrayed--So a person who turns king's evidence against his accomplices is called a Snitch.

3 _Serve him out_--To punish, or be revenged upon any person for any real or supposed injury.

~84~~he might meet him out of St. Giles's, and he would _wake_{ 1} him with an _Irish howl_."

1 Wake with an Irish howl--An Irish Wake, which is no unfrequent occurrence in the neighbourhood of St. Giles's and Saffron Hill, is one of the most comically serious ceremonies which can well be conceived, and certainly baffles all powers of description. It is, however, considered indispensable to wake the body of a de-ceased native of the sister kingdom, which is, by a sort of mock lying in state, to which all the friends, relatives, and fellow countrymen and women, of the dead person, are indiscriminately admitted; and among the low Irish this duty is frequently performed in a cellar, upon which occasions the motley group of a.s.sembled Hibernians would form a subject for the pencil of the most able satirist.

Upon one of these occasions, when Murtoch Mulrooney, who had suffered the sentence of the law by the common hangman, for a footpad robbery, an Englishman was induced by a friend of the deceased to accompany him, and has left on record the following account of his entertainment:--

"When we had descended (says he) about a dozen steps, we found ourselves in a subterraneous region, but fortunately not uninhabited. On the right sat three old bawds, drinking whiskey and smoking tobacco out of pipes about two inches long, (by which means, I conceive, their noses had become red,) and swearing and blasting between each puff. I was immediately saluted by one of the most sober of the ladies, and invited to take a gla.s.s of the enlivening nectar, and led to the bed exactly opposite the door, where Murtoch was laid out, and begged to pray for the repose of his precious shoul. This, however, I declined, alleging that as the parsons were paid for praying, it was their proper business.

At this moment a coa.r.s.e female voice exclaimed, in a sort of yell or Irish howl, 'Arrah! by Jasus, and why did you die, honey?--Sure enough it was not for the want of milk, meal, or tatoes.'

"In a remote corner of the room, or rather cellar, sat three draymen, five of his majesty's body guards, four sailors, six haymakers, eight chairmen, and six evidence makers, together with three bailiffs' followers, who came by turns to view the body, and take a drop of the _cratur_ to drink repose to the shoul of their countryman; and to complete the group, they were at-tended by the journeyman Jack Ketch. The noise and confusion were almost stupefying--there were praying--swearing--crying-howling--smoking--and drinking.

"At the head of the bed where the remains of Murtoch were laid, was the picture of the Virgin Mary on one side, and that of St. Patrick on the other; and at the feet was depicted the devil and some of his angels, with the blood running down their backs, from the flagellations which they had received from the disciples of Ketigern. Whether the blue devils were flying around or not, I could not exactly discover, but the whiskey and _blue ruin_ were evidently powerful in their effects.

"One was swearing--a second counting his beads--a third descanting on the good qualities of his departed friend, and about to try those of the whiskey--a fourth evacuating that load with which he had already overloaded himself--a fifth, declaring he could carry a fare, hear ma.s.s, knock down a member of parliament, murder a peace officer, and after all receive a pension: and while the priest was making an a.s.signation with a sprightly female sprig of Shelalah, another was jonteelly picking his pocket.

I had seen enough, and having no desire to continue in such company, made my escape with as much speed as I could from this animated group of persons, a.s.sembled as they were upon so solemn an occasion."

~85~~With conversation of this kind, the party were amused up St.

Martin's lane, and on the remainder of the road to Bow-street, followed by many persons, some of whom pretended to have seen a part of the proceedings, and promised to give their evidence before the magistrate, who was then sitting.

On arriving in Bow Street, they entered the Brown Bear,{1} a public-house, much frequented by the officers, and in which is a strong-room for the safe custody of prisoners, where they were shewn into a dark back-parlour, as they termed it, and the officer proceeded to search the man in custody, when lo and behold! the handkerchief was not to be found about him.

Pat d----d the devil and all his works--swore "by the fiery furnace of Beelzebub, and that's the devil's own bed-chamber, that was the man that nibbled the Jontleman's _dive_,{2} and must have _ding'd away the wipe_,{3} or else what should he _bolt_{4} for?--that he was up to the _rum slum_,{5}

1 A former landlord of the house facetiously christened it the Russian Hotel, and had the words painted under the sign of Bruin.

2 _Nibbled the Jontleman's dive_--Picked the gentleman's pocket.

3 _Ding'd away the wipe_--Pa.s.sed away the handkerchief to another, to escape detection. This is a very common practice in London: two or three in a party will be near, without appearing to have the least knowledge of, or connexion with each other, and the moment a depredation is committed by one, he transfers the property to one of his pals, by whom it is conveyed perhaps to the third, who decamps with it to some receiver, who will immediately advance money upon it; while, if any suspicion should fall upon the first, the second will perhaps busy himself in his endeavours to secure the offender, well knowing no proof of possession can be brought against him.

4 _Bolt_--Run away; try to make an escape.

5 _Rum slum_--Gammon--queer talk or action, in which some fraudulent intentions are discoverable or suspected.

~86~~and down upon the _kiddies_{1}--and sure enough you're _boned,_{2} my dear boy."

Some of the officers came in, and appeared to know the prisoner well, as if they had been acquainted with each other upon former official business; but as the lost property was not found upon him, it was the general opinion that nothing could be done, and the accused began to exercise his wit upon Murphy, which roused Pat's blood:

"For the least thing, you know, makes an Irishman roar."