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Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II. Egan Pierce
Читать онлайн.Название Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II
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isbn 4064066121129
Автор произведения Egan Pierce
Жанр Языкознание
Издательство Bookwire
“Upon my word, friend Sparkle, you are an admirable delineator of Society,” said Dashall.
“My drawings are made from nature,” continued Sparkle.
“Aye, and very naturally executed too,” replied Tom. Having kept walking on towards St. Paul's, they were by this time near the end of Shoe Lane, at the corner of which sat an elderly woman with a basket of mackerel for sale; and as they approached they saw several persons rush from thence into the main street in evident alarm.
“Come up, d——n your eyes,” said an ill-favoured fellow with an immense cudgel in his fist, driving an ass laden
1 Quid—A. Guinea.
with brick-dust, with which he was belabouring him most unmercifully. The poor beast, with an endeavour to escape if possible the cudgelling which awaited him, made a sudden turn round the post, rubbing his side against it as he went along, and thereby relieving himself of his load, which he safely deposited, with a cloud of brick-dust that almost blinded the old woman and those who were near her, in the basket of fish. Neddy then made the best of his way towards Fleet-market, and an over-drove bullock, which had terrified many persons, issued almost at the same moment from Shoe Lane, and took the direction for Temple-bar. The whistling, the hooting, the hallooing, and the running of the drovers in pursuit—men, women, and children, scampering to get out of the way of the infuriated beast—the noise and rattling of carriages, the lamentations of the poor fish-fag, and the vociferations of the donkey-driver to recover his neddy—together with a combination of undistinguishable sounds from a variety of voices, crying their articles for sale, or announcing their several occupations—formed a contrast of characters, situations, and circumstances, not easily to be described. Here, a poor half-starved and almost frightened-to-death brat of a Chimney-sweeper, in haste to escape, had run against a lady whose garments were as white as snow—there, a Barber had run against a Parson, and falling along with him, had dropped a pot of pomatum from his apron-pocket on the reverend gentleman's eye, and left a mark in perfect unison with the colour of his garments before the disaster, but which were now of a piebald nature, neither black nor white. A barrow of nuts, overturned in one place, afforded fine amusement for the scrambling boys and girls—a Jew old clothes-man swore upon his conscience he had losht the pest pargain vhat he ever had offered to him in all his lifetime, by dem tam'd bears of bull-drivers—a Sailor called him a gallows half-hung ould crimp,{1} d——d his
1 Crimp—Kidnappers, Trappers, or Procurers of men for the
Merchant Service; and the East-India company contract with
them for a supply of sailors to navigate their ships out and
home. These are for the most part Jews, who have made
advances to the sailors of money, clothes, victuals, and
lodgings, generally to a very small amount, taking care to
charge an enormous price for every article. The poor
fellows, by these means, are placed under a sort of
espionage, if not close confinement, till the ship is ready
to receive them; and then they are conducted on board at
Gravesend by the Crimp and his assistants, and a receipt
taken for them.
In this process there is nothing very reprehensible—the men
want births, and have no money—the Crimp keeps a lodging-
house, and wishes to be certain of his man: he therefore
takes him into the house, and after a very small supply of
cash, the grand do, is to persuade him to buy watches,
buckles, hats, and jackets, to be paid for on his receiving
his advance previous to sailing. By this means and the
introduction of grog, the most barefaced and unblushing
robberies have been committed.
With the same view of fleecing the unwary poor fellows, who
“… at sea earn their money like horses,
To squander it idly like asses on shore,”
they watch their arrival after the voyage, and advance small
sums of money upon their tickets, or perhaps buy them out
and out, getting rid at the same time of watches, jewellery,
and such stuff, at more than treble their real value. Not
only is this the case in London, but at all the out-ports it
is practised to a very great extent, particularly in war
time.
Happy would it be for poor Jack were this all; he is some-
times brought in indebted to the Crimp to a large nominal
amount, by what is called a long-shore attorney, or more
appropriately, a black shark, and thrown into jail!!! There
he lies until his body is wanted, and then the incarcerator
négociâtes with him for his liberty, to be permitted to
enter on board again.
eyes if he was not glad of it, and, with a sling of his arm, deposited an enormous quid he had in his mouth directly in the chaps of the Israelite, then joined the throng in pursuit; while the Jew, endeavouring to call Stop thief, took more of the second-hand quid than agreed with the delicacy of his stomach, and commenced a vomit, ejaculating with woful lamentations, that he had lost his bag mit all his propertish.
The old mackarel-woman, seeing her fish covered with brick-dust, set off in pursuit of the limping donkey-driver, and catching him by the neck, swore he should pay her for the fish, and brought him back to the scene of action; but, in the mean time, the Street-keeper had seized and carried off the basket with all its contents—misfortune upon misfortune!
“D——n your ass, and you too,” said the Fish-woman, “if you doesn't pay me for my fish, I'll quod{1} you—that there's all vat I ar got to say.”
“Here's a bit of b——dy gammon—don't you see as how I am lost both my ass and his cargo, and if you von't leave
1 Quod—A Jail—to quod a person is to send him to jail.
me alone, and give me my bags again, I'll sarve you out—there now, that's all—bl——st me! fair play's a jewel—let go my hair, and don't kick up no rows about it—see vhat a mob you're a making here—can't you sell your mackarel ready sauced, and let me go ater Neddy?”
“Vhat, you thinks you are a flat-catching,{1} do you, Limping Billy—but eh, who has run away with my basket offish?”
“Ha, ha, ha,” cried Limping Billy, bursting into a horse-laugh at the additional distress of the old woman, in which he was joined by many of the surrounding spectators; and which so enraged her, that she let go her hold, and bursting through the crowd with an irresistible strength, increased almost to the fury of madness by her additional loss, she ran some paces distance in search of, not only her stock in trade, but her shop, shop-board, and working-tools; while the donkey-driver boisterously vociferated after her—“Here they are six a shilling, live mackarel O.”
This taunt of the brick-dust merchant was too much to be borne, and brought her back again with a determination to chastise him, which she did in a summary way, by knocking him backwards into the kennel. Billy was not pleased at this unexpected salute, called her a drunken——, and endeavoured to get out of her way—“for,” said he, “I know she is a b——dy rum customer when she gets lushy."{2} At this moment, a sturdy youth, about sixteen or seventeen years of age, was seen at a short distance riding the runaway-ass back again. Billy perceiving