The London Guide and Stranger's Safeguard/Chapter 3

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IN PERAMBULATING THE STREETS

Either for business or for pleasure, the stranger will have to withstand a great number of subtle contrivances to come at his money, which we shall treat upon in the last place; meantime, we will speak of those other more violent means, where the person is touched, or his mind is intimidated, to come at the same ends, viz. obtaining the property of the unwary stranger.

This is the most philosophical mode of arrangement; and as every thing is done now-a-days by dint of head-work, we can discover no good reason why a little learning should not be introduced into the "London Guide." Certainly a plan much preferable to that gallimaufry of incoherencies, and antiquated rigmarole of precautions against evils that no longer exist,—of obsolete terms, and disused methods,—entitled "King's Frauds of London," scarcely a line in a page of which is applicable to the present times, and present practices; no more applicable to the present day, than the "Cheats of Scapin," or those of "Gil Blas," are to the present manners of Spain.

And yet the trash of that poor miserable varment has been adopted, and repiinted into Mr. Barrington's book, "The London Spy;" of which it comprises about one half, as near as I can reckon; another quarter of that London Spy is occupied either in telling us about horse-racing and other country cheats, or the details of mal-practices upon the river Thames, which no longer exist. These latter are copied out of one of the books I have by me, written twenty years ago, before those Docks were formed which entirely altered the practices upon, and commercial appearance of the river. A man might as well talk of the beauties of Grecian building in the reign of king Harry, as of the the frauds committed by "scuffle-hunters, mud-larks, light horsemen and heavy horsemen, upon the trade of the river Thames" that do not exist.[1]

The means of perpetrating these robberies are taken away, by the ships unloading in the docks, (three great basins, or more, enclosed with walls) into which it is impossible to penetrate improperly, and out of which no one goes without search, of whom there can be the most distant doubt as to accuracy of conduct. Aided by the active exertions of the marine-police, those extensive establishments have extinguished nearly all the old methods of robbing the ships and quays; in lieu of which, new and more daring acts of piracy have been adopted. Of these we shall speak hereafter; these observations being only used objectively, we shall here dismiss the subject for the present, to resume the course we just now pointed out—the exposure of such villains as extract your money by putting you in fear of personal injury.

If buffers and mock auctioneers intimidate by their vehemeat manner of pressing their wares upon you, no less do the KEEPERS of STALLS impose upon the credulity of strangers, and treat them with incivility and even rudeness, when these decline to purchase their trumpery. "You did not want to buy," said one of these fellows to a well-dressed gentleman lately; "here have you pulled about my books, and asked the price of four or five, but don't know one that you want. No; you don't want to buy," said he with a sneer, insinuating that he was likely to steal!

At various points, ready made CLOTHES SHOPS employ Barkers at the door, who pace up and down before the window, and almost forcibly hand you into the shop; where you are set upon by two or three, who will get a garment upon you whether you are willing or no, demanding twice its real value, and if you are a flat, you cannot get out of it with the gentle use of words. Abuse follows you, if you do not purchase; you are robbed if you do.

In what respect are such scum of tradesmen better than the well-defined villain, who being one of the

PILFERERS IN THE STREETS

runs off with the very garment you have bought.

If you carry the bundle yourself, one of these will run against you, or shuffle you along from behind, and away goes your bundle or parcel. His companion, if he has one, interrupts the pursuit, or joining it, impedes your progress, by treading on your heels or kicking them up.

I have seen one of these shabby dogs (who were always below my cut) take off a lady's tippet in the street, at noon day; nor has she discovered it for the space of two minutes,—a time fully sufficient for his purpose, and enough to ensure his safety. I thought this trick the nearest to picking of pockets for neatness and cleverness, of any I ever saw. His plan was to loosen the tie round the neck, by getting hold of the end of the ribbon, and reaching over her shoulders point out something in the window at which she stood gaping, the bow was of course pulled through. This manœuvre passed off very well; for he held in his hand the remains of an orange, and his accomplice occasioned an agitation among the crowd at the same moment. Lifting up the lower corner of the tippet, another ribbon which fastened it round the waist, was cut, and then gently raiding it near the back of the neck, he disengaged it from all further obstacle—and bolted. It was a warm spring day, and I dare say she caught no cold.

Others, still lower and more daring, knock off the hat, if it be a good one, and run away with it. The sufferer having received a pretty hard blow with hand or stick, is not in a condition immediately to follow; and the pilferer, though a mean one, is safe enough from harm in a few seconds. Mr. Tufton was thus served in St. James's place (January, 15, 1818;) but the shabby perpetrator ran to a passage of the park which had then no outlet, and was taken accordingly.

Some again wait about the park, at the King's Mews, or wherever errand boys or porters set down their loads—the former to play, the latter to drink; and while they are in the midst of their fun, away goes the goods committed to their care. A few go about who are false porters, or a kind of dog-sheep, who contrive to talk or toss up for gin, with the real ones, and meanwhile "ring the changes" by walking off with their loads. Upon opening the exchanged package, stones, or bricks, or (if a cask) vapid water, is found to inhabit a tolerably good looking external.

Not many years ago, a lot of young miscreants used to wait the coming out of day-scholars of an afternoon, at dusk; and, affecting to be full of lark, make off with their hats, books, or great coats. The prosecution of one of them, a Mulatto boy of twenty, for an offence of this precise nature, in Air Street, Piccadilly, put an end to the depredations of that gang; and the magistrate at Marlborough Street in thanking our informant for having secured the offender, assured the bystanders, that no affected gloss of a sportive sort, should guarantee to this nursery for thieves, impunity for their early offences. They begin with small wares, imd in time deal at wholesale.

Those who prowl the streets all day upon the look-out, make a dead stand-still whenever people are getting out of hackney, or stage coaches, to see what may turn up to their profit. If a box, or other package, is left a little astray, while the passenger is overjoyed at the meeting of his or her friend, advantage is taken of the circumstance, and it becomes fair game. It may so happen, if it be a hackney coach, that the driver and the thief may be acquainted; and then the former places some of the luggage conveniently for carrying off, as thus: standing rather wide, he puts the article to be boned between his legs, and then reaching into the coach for more, he steps forward a little, so that his coat conceals from the view his fare both that part of the luggage and the thief; the latter stooping down behind the hind-wheel drags the article towards him, and bolts off. Should the fare have gone into the house, the same end is attained by planting the article to be boned, a little on one side of the door, while honest Jarvy enters with another part of it. This last is the cleverest way by half; but some people by their vigilance prevent either the one or the other from taking place. At any rate, those who take hackney coaches with luggage (or indeed without) should never permit the driver to take up any one on the box, but peremptorily order such fellows off; they two being invariably dishonest palls: need it be added, that if he is thus driven from the box, he gets up behind, or runs alongside, the same hazard is incurred, of finding him lurking about the coach at the end of your ride!

The first-mentioned method of thieving, I have seen practised upon fruit in Covent Garden market, at the earliest dawn of morning, when I have been out upon my rambles. A coster-monger demands the price of cherries, and makes a fair bidding, which entitles him to look at the goods; these, being packed in two-peck baskets, placed one upon another, he removed the first between his legs, while he reaches after another basket. His confederate handed off the first, but the seller prevented any more from being disturbed, or I make no doubt, from the activity of the second man, more would have gone the same way. The long fan-tail great coat of the first man, concealed the second from the view of the sufferer.


WAGGON DODGERS.

Fellows who follow after town carts, waggons, stage carts, and such like, to pick up any portable package that may remain unprotected for a moment; they are a needy sort of thieves, and partake a good deal of the character of the last-mentioned, to whom they assimilate in many respects. In my preregrinations forward and backward, I have seen a couple of them dodge a waggon from Picadilly to the city, in order to dislodge a poorish-looking box from its tail. With a wisp of straw in his hand, to conceal a knife, one of them cut the cords that fastened the box to the tail (to the edge of which he shoved it); he unbuckled the leather which crosses that hind part of the tilting; and the motion which the faulty pavement now and then gave to the vehicle, soon shook about the straw and the box upon the ground. It would have been good prize, but for the interference of a civilian, who made himself busy with the thing, at the waggon-office in Friday Street.

These fag-ends of a low profession descend so very low, as to run off with a hare, that hangs at the corner of the stage-delivery carts; cut off ropes at the ends of town-carts; attend at the markets to make prey of any packages of dead meat, flats of butter, or any other article that may come in their way, even to the very whips with which the butchers and green-grocers come to our markets. The curious part of our readers will be surprised to bear, that a poor fellow in Leadenhall market, and another at Newgate market, get a subsistance by taking care of the whips only, whilst the owners are in the market; for which he receives a precarious recompence. When meat or other articles are bargained for, and booked (as it is called), they must be taken away to the cart immediately, or left at the peril of the purchaser. Here again is a good scope for the dodgers: the buyer having been watched into a distant part of the market, away runs the rogue in great haste, calling out "here, you, Mr. Such-a-one's two fore-quarters of beef," and away he goes with one of them. In the winter of 1816–17, a cart-load of meat was driven from Ivy-lane and found in Type Street, Moorfields, and thereabouts was discharged of its contents. The Long alley lads fed well that day; and no doubt some part of the contents fetched money as there is a butcher in the next alley, who has seen foreign countries.

Some of them wear an apron, or carry one in their hands, rolled up; sometimes it is a bag—the better to cover smaller articles. They turn their hands to any thing, in which they are occasionally assisted by their women. Shopkeepers who expose their goods for sale at the doors are always open to their robberies. The men practise it in this way: having marked out an article to be boned, they place their bag upon it, and go on to look at something else; which, whilst they are replacing, with one hand, occasions no small trouble, and the exertions necessary to accomplish this, keeps the other hand at work in filling the bag—with which he walks off. Books at stalls are fair game.

Their women go to linen-draper's shops, where the goods hang up at the door, and one standing behind the other, draws under the arm of the front one, whatever she may have fixed her mind upon: if it does not slide off readily, she cuts as much as she can reach. For those sufferers there is very little commiseration: they expose their fascinating lure, and have no legitimate cause of complaint if they feel now and then a little nibbling at it. But for those who steal books, we do not say that they are fascinated with learning—they would learn better else; perhaps we shall be nearer the fact, when we attribute the fascination, mostly, to the money they may obtain for them at the Fences.

These fellows will join in a bullock-hunt, or purloin sheep from the drove—hold the clothes at a novice-fight, and rua away with the man's covering; they will snatch off a woman's cloak—run off with a hat—lift up a sash for whatever may be within reach—or mizzle with umbrellas, that may be left to dry, or what not! If there is a riot on account of provisions, this class of people, women as well as men, are the most clamorous, although they never buy any; when the cheese and bacon dealers were visited so often, some twelve to sixteen years ago, these fellows stole the money in the shops at Clare market, Chiswell Street, and Cow-cross; but it is worthy of remark, that when one of them was recognised, he had the address to say, he took money to keep the people quiet outside, who threatened to pull the house down: no less so is it, that the sufferer put up with his loss silently, for fear of that very man! Is the criminal law of this country well enforced, which should permit so flagrant a dereliction to pass? Too much is left to individuals, to their kindness, pusillanimity or soft-heartedness.


PROSTITUTES AND BEGGARS.

Their practices, as they are personal annoyances in the streets, come next under consideration; the former are most dangerous by day, (so completely is the avocation changed) the latter by night. Both assume the character of robbers, as suits their purpose.

By day, the number of women of the town, at all points, equal those by night; and they are more dangerous, because their blandishments, and means of enticing the unwary, are set off most floridly. The novice to their manners is easily caught, as is frequently he who is versed in the ways of town; for, to catch hold of the latter, they will dress in the style of a neat servant-maid, with perhaps a key of the front door, or a plate in their hand, as if just stepping out upon an errand. "What are you at, with that plate?" said I, to an old one, whom I knew, "Catching of culls," answered she. This was one Miss Ellis, an Irish woman of very fine symmetry, who had been in keeping in all the varied scenes of life, from the top of the tree to the bottom. She was thus strolLIng about, without bonnet, two miles from home; she, upon whom the wind was not permitted to blow, while under the protection of Jack G——, exposed in this manner to the dark air of an autumnal evening, reminds us of the fallen greatness of Buonaparte, and the abject state of Lord Chancellor Bacon's last years, who was denied credit for a pint of porter, as the ex-emperor was for his sincerest asseverations.

In general, the go is, to put the best toggery on that is to be had, adapted to the state of the weather. For this purpose, if the lady has not got clothes of her own, she can find them (on hire) at the upper class of bad-houses; most of which are extremely well furnished in that particular, deriving, from this source, no small part of their profits. If she is a good judge, she will not overdress herself, but trust for customers to her eyes and limbs, both of which she manœuvres, when she is down upon a cull, who becomes her admirer. A good deal of ogling takes place on her part; she pretends to modesty at first, perhaps, if her dress is corresponding thereto; but, if she discovers her admirer knows a little too much to take that in, she changes her tone to an expected meeting, or an appointment with a gentleman of consequence (a married man); but the time of meeting being past she thinks of walking homewards.

Such are the arts used to inveigle men, by the force of their passions, into snares and trammels, which last, some of them, to the end of their lives; but if not, occasion disquietude, breach of rest, and immediate distraction of the faculties, the forerunners of deranged finances, a shallow purse, and probably of ultimate want.

The Courtezan, whom we have supposed inveigling her inamorato to her lodgings, or a brothel, having thus broadly hinted her wish to return home, if he does not bite at that, proceeds with the remainder of her part,—as the players call it. Probably she flatters his vanity, or self love, calls him "charming fellow!" Wishes he would call a coach for her, see her into it, and send her home; for she is "tired of waiting, disgusted with the men," and heaves a sigh, to think of their unfaithfulness.

Let us next suppose the coach approaches, she presses him to accompany her home, but as he cannot spare time, he need not stop a moment, but only just see whereabout her dwelling is, and he may come another time. But should he hesitate to order up the coach, she calls him "shabby fellow;" asks him if he imagined she wanted him to pay? and when she flounces into it, gives her address distinctly, that he may know where to find her, if his curiosity has been excited by what has passed. Many of these high ones, hand about cards of their address.

N.B. At whatever stage of the negociation, his good resolutions give way to her arts, matters not; from that moment he is saddled with expenses, and with inward reproaches, if not with disease; at least, so it happens in the majority of cases. Whoever hearkens to the voice of the Syren, is caught by her wiles. Tear yourselves away, then, from its sound, ye yet uncontaminated young men, 'ere it be too laie; to hearken is to be lost;—to touch is to be undone.

One general proposal is made to every Newcomer, by these higher classes of Cyprians, which is nothing less, than that he will take her into keeping. This is the rock upon which most persons of warm dispositions split: if they once give ear to her representations of its advantages and cheapness, of her love and attachment, he is ruined. It does not signify to her, that she is already in keeping of one, two, or more; she will turn them up one after another, under the impression that she is clever in selecting, or with a worse motive. The purse waxes empty, or its strings become rigid with use. Pleasures like these, (if indeed they are so) pall upon the palate and vitiate by their very odour. No delicacy, no sentiment, no soul, takes part in the carousal; and the indigestion, the flatulencies of love, regurgitate upon the palate, even to nauseousness.

Our readers, who are novices, will possibly be surprised to hear, that many of those High-flyers, though they keep, or job, a coach, and livery servants, can swear a good round stave as any fish-fag at Billingsgate; some have more taste for that than for prayers: how unlike ladies of the same occupation in some foreign countries! The charming Miss Shaw, for instance, can say worse things about her eyes, &c. (sparkle they never so bright), than ever was said about the Duke of M——h's penchant for her.

Many are the gradations from that highest degree of prostitution, down to the trulls that parade the streets by day; and one or two more steps, still, include those who keep out all night. In the latter dark offenders the conduct is so glaring, their robberies so soon unveil themselves, and the men are so disgusted, that less personal harm comes of them, than of those which begin by day; they are less likely to undergo repetition than these, and terminate in the night that gave them birth. Whereas the man who is open to woman's snares, while the mind is its own, is caught by the mind; the very day-light adds a gusto to the illicitness of the amour, and its repetition is the consequence. The thousand numerous ills which follow, can scarcely be imagined; for many a sad catastrophe never has come to light.

Possibly, the jealousy of two persons out of four is excited; for, women of the town can be jealous of the wife of a man with whom they cohabit; or, her former paramour may feel the same rankling passion, and avenge it by murder: or, perhaps, he may perpetrate the same horrid deed, with the connivance of their common mistress, when her cupidity has been excited by the display of much property on the victim's person. Now and then, we hear of a gentleman being lost, unaccountably: a few years since we knew of a learned gentleman being burnt, with the house, in Chandos Street, for which accident no other reasonable motive could be assigned, than the last mentioned one, since he had a great deal of money about him.

Not to quit our subject, we proceed to descant on the dangers to be apprehended from the loose women by day; and, by exposing their methods, put our readers upon their guard against such arts. Countrymen, in particular, and men of florid countenances, generally, are much sought after by old worn-out Harridans; and, if they are low in life, sometimes get maintained until they become emaciated, and unfit for their lascivious purposes. The contaminated association, bring such men into dishonest habits, and some of them suffer for their crimes. Such men should, above all things, avoid being well treated by old whores; who upon first view might be mistaken for respectable housekeepers' wives: they are much worse to deal with than younger women, for this, among other reasons, that they know more roguery, and are remorseless in spilling the man whom they have, perhaps, themselves seduced to the commission of some offence.

The guilt of betraying her Fancy is not confined to the Harridan; younger women of the town, are sometimes caught tripping in that way. In two years and a half,——————,(whose right name I never knew) lost three men in that awkward manner, one of whom was for a capital offence, so that she was called upon, to account for how it could have happened? Whether it was true that she alledged I know not, but every body believed her, except the mother of the young man who was sentenced: the truth is, appearance and a good face do a great deal; for I never did see a finer looking woman, from top to toe, than she is; and when I saw her walking down Fetter Lane, last Christmas, I could not help comparing her to a ship under full sail. The excuse she had to offer was, that "some of the things [stolen] were found in her lodgings; and the officers knew, without her impeaching, how they came there." For the second man, "that they watched her to where he lay concealed, and so found him out." No excuse was offered for the third man; two out of three being considered tolerably fair.

The reader ought to know, that her extravagance, and importunities for money, drove the first-mentioned man into his first and only offence; thus giving to young men a severe and thrilling lesson, of what they are to expect when they attach themselves to women of the town, be their figure and features never so fascinating.

Of a fine day, not less than twelve thousand women of the town, of all degrees, except the lowest, parade the streets in search of whom they may devour. Neatness and cleanliness mark them all: how much unlike the dirt of powder, and the frippery of thirty years ago! Indeed, health seems to prevail more and more among them: I say it, who am a pretty good judge of the matter.

From Aldgate Pump to Saint James's Street, is one universal line of march for them, broken at intervals by short turns upon the heel; and having, on the right and on the left, houses of resort; brothels, bawdy-houses and bagnios, which it would be ridiculous to particularise. Another line extends along Newgate Street, into Lincoln's Inn-fielcJs, across Covent Garden, in various directions, through Cranbourn Alley, &c. into Picadilly. In those celebrated Alleys is the favorite shopping promenade of the BON TON; and here it is the greatest number of the high-flyers are to be met with, and the handsomest women; though the major part of them take one turn into the city, generally, every day, and back again. The third day-promenade for the fair Cyprians, is in Oxford Street, and the streets and squares leading out of it. Descending from the parishes of St. Ann's and Mary-le-bone, and out of all the streets on that side, they penetrate to Picadilly by Bond Street.

In this round of sensual blandishment the youth of the metropolis have got to inhale their existence, and with it the pestileutial infection of example. But they are inured to the sight from their earliest years, and some few of them go miraculously through the ordeal; the far greater part, however, plunge into the fiery furnace of debauchery, and get seared in immoral ideas, and immoral practices. These, repetition cannot harm, for the seat of fine, feelings is become callous. But, it is the countryman or new comer, whom we would exhort to guard against the pestilence, and the snares, that every where await him, both without and within. Internally, he feels the want of confidence in himself; externally he exhibits the gait and habiliments of the novice, and is eyed by the crafty, the wicked, and designing. He must, then, at going forth, steel his mind against the allurements that will be every where thrown in his way; his eyes must be dim to the rainbow colours that scarcely cover, but do not conceal, the alabaster forms that move beneath; he must resolve to eschew the evil that will be offered to his ear; and to resist, with all his force, the tact of pollution, that would endeavour to excite the mere animal passions.

A practice used to prevail, for women to sit at a window which had a good aspect, from which they would throw out their allurements to the men as they passed,—beckoning them in. This has, however, been put down by order of the magistrates, on which account we should not have noticed it—our plan being rather to notice the evils that be, than those that have been—but as it may revive, and is very likely still to exist in u, small degree, we think it part of our duty to warm incautious persons how they accept such invitations. Women so stationed are, for the most part, diseased, or under a course of medicine, which disables them from sallying forth;—the consequences of entering would be obvious and painful; and he who suffered death by such a step, deserves burying at a cross road, with the old English law inscription "Felo-de-se," placed over him.

It would be endless, and almost useless, but not at all entertaining, to enumerate all the means made use of to claim your attention by day:—by night, the address is more lascivious, but meant to be equally fascinating, being addressed to your grosser animal faculties and functions.

To call a coach for a lady, whoever or whatsoever she may be, is no great piece of service to perform by one of our sex for the other; neither to hand her over the gutter, or across a street; but when, in performing such an act of civility, you receive a squeeze of the hand, a thrust of the elbow, a leer, or a card of address,—learn that no good is intended: it is nothing more or less, than an attack on your purse; sinijily that, and not addressed to your person, this being a matter perfectly indifferent to her (whatever you yourself may think of its beauty.)—Her flashman, in her estimation, is ten times handsomer, certainly more acceptable. Where is the difference, then, of an attack on your purse, whether it be made by a man or a woman? through the medium of your passions, or of another's address and cunning?

We will, for a moment, suppose an unthinking young man led away by his passions, to give ear to one of those Syrens, and that she is of a decent stamp,—say a second rater, or a third, such as would not disgust at the first view:—What has he to expect upon accompanying her along? Her demand, at first but small, probably a few shillings, is enhanced by inuendo; as, how handsomely a gentleman (something like yourself) behaved last week, in a present of a few pounds. If you do not take this hint, she bothers you in the house of ill-fame, to which you may go; manages that you shall be charged extravagantly for accommodation, and what you may drink,—which, if you refuse to pay for, you get kicked and abused by the bully, who is always in attendance, and understands the use of his fists. The same fellow contrives, too, to give you a good character into the street, especially if you have taken your cups, so that you may be way-laid, hustled, or tripped up, or knocked down, and robbed.

You are under a mistake if you suppose behaving handsome to the girl, will protect you from this last act of violence; not always so, but on the contrary, the display of your property, or the exercise of your benevolence, proves you to be a flat, and they take advantage accordingly of your imbecility. The best way is, to plead a vacuity of purse, combined with the (pretended) wish to contribute hereafter more to her ease and comfort, by a larger douceur, but that present circumstances prevent it. A large promise goes farther than a small performance, with such people.

At times, the importunities for relief from the night-walkers, descend so low as a few pence, for immediate sustenance, or rise to a glass of wine. In case of the first, they take what you give; and while laughing at your credulity, make farther proffer of their persons, and increase their demands with insinuated threats: in the second case, you no sooner enter the tavern or gin-shop, than several more of their companions surronnd yon, and the glass circulates to all round, including Flashraen, (thieves) with whom you are thus obliged to associate, after having given way to the first impulse. If you should escape with pockets and person safe, after being thus encompassed by sin and wickedness, it would be strange To me. That you would be put to much expence, is certain: that you would be robbed in some way or other, little doubt exists in my mind: that the effects of wine would render you fitter for the workings of lasciviousness, is no longer problematical. The fault lies, then, in not resisting the first allurements: tear yourself away, ere it be too late; lest, taking advantage of heeitation, the seducer, versed in the arts of persuasion and lewdness, leads you an easy prey to the shrine of her iniquities, and immolates you upon the altar of her cold-hearted caresses.

But there are others, or rather some among all those classes, who, not content with exposing their blandishments, and giving invitations to the brutish consummation of their wishes, lay violent hands upon men passing along. Here again, hesitation is ruin; irresolution will destroy you; want of decision is want of sense, and will soon prove the want of pence. KNOCK THEM DOWN, after having given them one notice to that effect; especially if it be late at night, or in a dark place adapted to robbery. Should you not adopt this advice instantly, your ideas of prudence will soon bend before your carnal appetites; and a couple of Cyprians will empty your pockets of their contents with the facility of a conjuror's wand. This advice may seem harsh to those who whine and cry out about "striking a weak woman." (Not so weak neither.) But I know what I am saying: when a woman ceases to behave like a woman, and assumes the character of the worst description of men, they are no longer women, but brutes. Shall a wonjan be allowed to exercise muscular powers, in aid of her lustful appetites,—to say nothing of meditated robbery—and then plead the weakness of her sex? The proposition is ridiculous, if not monstrous: a foot-pad robbery, then, is to be committed with impunity, because the perpetrator wears petticoats, and ———!

"Hands off!"—"Stand clear, there!"—"Get out, or I'll tip you a floorer!" These are the expressions, which, as they are understandable, or at least intelligible, to the meanest capacities among them, are the likeliest to have the desired effect; since they convey with them an air of authority, and that knowingness upon shich I have so often insisted, when speaking of other species of street-robberies.

Is my reader liable to get inebriated far from his home? Let him take coach upon such occasions; or, if he call not a coach, let him make up his mind to evade those harpies who ply at the corners of avenues, streets, lanes, under the piazzas, at shop doors, and such like. From these dregs of an abject profession, what can be expected but filth, vermin, disease, and death? Their breath is contamination, their touch is infection, their views, in course, plunder, rapine—and even murder follows. By such as these, men have been decoyed away and totally lost, body and goods; unless indeed the former might be recognised at an anatomist's, or the latter at the pawnbroker's. What other can be expected of the fag-end of the worst finished part of vitiated society, upon whom the pattern of their maker is scarcely distinguishable? and whose minds are embued with so small a portion of his grace, that they appear a distinct race of beings from these among whom they constantly dwell, and upon whom they hourly make prey.

Your charity is implored for the most abject looking beings that crawl the earth; and will vou not bestow it? I answer NO! not at midnight; not when some latent purpose is in view; when the scowl that meets your eye, huddles together all the derelictions consequent upon an early initiation in vice and crime. Is there no means of reclamation? asks the abstract moralist: YES! it has been attempted upon a large and benevolent scale. Individuals, too, have exerted their individual beneficence; but the incorrigible wretches, with their adventitious cleanness, seek anew for fresh debaucheries, and spread wider and wider the impurities inseparable from an early initiation in "the way of life, as it is called, quaintly enough. Notwithstanding this new surface, with which chance has covered their native garb of pollution, the original ground work—the centrical alloy, still remains: no less vitiation of principle, nor less of pestilence exists, because, wiih a flimsy covering of new cotton, and the emblazoned whoredom of painted cheeks, the poison dazzles the eye, while the understanding is thrown into the shade. Look closer, penetrate, and draw forth enongh of groundwork character, of which to make an analysis, and you shall find the chief ingredients are the same original base amalgama of iniquity as is first above depicted. Men who are led astray by such low-bred vestals, are not likely to possess much discernment at the time, if they ever did exceed their next-door dolt; but they must be far gone in liquor indeed, and in a such a state of confirmed stupidity as to be scarcely worthy of being saved from the shipwreck, if they cannot distinguish, when they get into the dirty purlieus of St. Giles's, those of Orchard-street, Westminster, of Golden lane, or the Borough Clink! If they cannot see light from darkness, or the difference between a cut-throat corner and a dining room, they deserve neither commiseration or help, in their misfortunes.

Low neighbourhoods like those which we have named, have night-houses, where assemble the worst and most unprincipled part of one sex, waiting for prey to be brought in by the other. Woe to the man who ventures among them! The unfledged youth, no more than the veteran upon town, is their peculiar game; all is fish that comes to net; old and young, gentle and simple, when they once enter these pestiferous abodes, are beset by half a score Urchins, who have been sitting up, waiting for the return of the sisters (perhaps) of one or more of them. By a troop of both sexes thus composed, and probably the unnatural parents themselves, is the dishonest pursuit kept up, until their game has been robbed of every shilling he has, together with his watch and miscellaneous property, including his coat, hat, shoes, or other clothes. The unfortunate, silly man, is then to be mystified (to borrow a French word) respecting the place he has visited; for which purpose they throw themselves in his way, in order to misdirect him; and this they contrive to do, even although he should be too drunk, or too sulky, too enquire, by means of a conversation among themselves. The reflections and researches of the next morning, teach him how weak an animal is man! How nearly resembling the brute beast (when reason has departed at the approach of ebriety), is that man, who dares to kill his fellow animal, and ask for impunity, because it is devoid of that reason, which he himself has bartered away for a few moments' gratification.

We must not deny that very many of those girls have pretty faces, and appear as if just escaped the trammels of a parent's care, or the drudgery of a manufactory, and thus it is they arouse the lecherous gusto of their paramours; but, if mankind had nothing to resist, in controuling their passions, there would be no virtue in forbearing to gratify them.

Begging for liquor, is very common with every class of out-door strumpets; frequently accompanied by the lewdest gesticulations, and offers of their persons, in return; but, under circumstances the most favourable to a safe gratification of the small pecuniary request, you would find yourself egregiously deceived as to the amount of the treat. They swallow incredible quantities of liquid poison, under its various denominations; and, if it be evening, demand something to eat, something to be given to her "sister," (in iniquity) "a drop for that poor woman, and a glass for this poor man, who was v^ry kind to her when the b—— officers wanted to take her away." Such fellow being all the while her own Pal, Flashman, or Fancy. And suppose the invitation ends here? What have you done? I will tell, though you dare not give it a thought: You have encouraged the worst sort of mendicity; You have associated with thieves and whores, contributing your share towards fitting them for further attacks; and you have run the risque of losing yourself in that vortex, which has swallowed up so many fine fellows before you. While thus treating them in a gin-shop, they will make free with your pocket handkerchief, or other more valuable article; sometimes when you do not order freely, one will pretend to sqnare at you, and hit you in the pit of the stomach; and before you recover your wind, they get away safely—then you have leisure to search your pockets for what may be wanting.

Whatever is most subtle, whatever is most engaging in vice, has throughout been our chiefest, constant, wish to warn the novice against falling iuto. The coarser appeals to the mere man, his animal feelings and temperament, by the degraded set who ply the streets, have been already described; we come now to such as every man is likely to find at his lodgings, his place of business, or his resort for pleasure. As the last mentioned includes the theatre, as well as the tavern or public house, to which latter, at the season of agitated politics, almost every man of intelligence resorts occasionally,—we shall speak of it the first.

He who goes to the Theatres without some (large) portion of buoyancy of heart, is ill-fitted for the intellectual treat, or the moral lessons, furnished at them; but we will not suppose, that he would go at all who was fitter for the house of mourning; so the most we concede is, that he may go with listlessness, out of politeness to his companions. In either case he would have to encounter that hot-bed of vice, the lobby, in a state very unfit to undergo its scorching ordeal. If he cannot withstand the temptation, let me conjure him to act with as much prudence as the case will admit; above all things, let him not retire and come back again. Let him not treat two women at the same time, lest their rivality should interest his mind: I pay nothing about the heart in these lucubrations, that is quite out of the question; although I have known a young man of character actually to marry a girl of the town, who had paced all the pavement in the line of march, and knew almost every stone in its whole extent. What a pretty brewing of mischief was in this false step? If my reader must dally in the lobby, let him not disclose his name, nor make a new appointment with intention to keep it; let him turn a deaf ear to one half that is said, and disbelieve the other. Better than either would it be, to examine the beauties that inhabit there, with the same apathy that a florist examines his tulips, or the naturalist expands the wings of a butterfly, and transfixes its body against its last receptacle in his museum.

Observing these precautions, my reader will merely be done out of a little money, and probably a small portion of that laughing hygeia with which he entered London. He will then have conquered the most alluring species of destruction that environs our rougher sex; since here are collected all the most accomplished and fascinating outsides of the female form about town, together with the well-practised tongue, and every other art and blandishment to stir up and carry away captive the senses of youth.

At the tavern, there sits in the bar the fascinating lure of a pretty bar-maid, or a handsome landlady; sometimes both. Men in their cups, pass a word or two with these, and feel gratified; this ripens into longer conversations, an invitation to walk into that sanctum sanctorum of all groggishness follows, where the women as well as the men take their drops of eye-water. With one or the other (or both) of these, you are inveigled into an intimacy, an ogling, and then you are treated with

"Favours secret, sweet, and precious,"

as Burns rightly tells of Tam O'Shanter. Next they go to the play-house, and you accompany them; you squire them to Vauxhall, and your business is done. You are either attached like an heirloom to the house, become a sot, and make room in half a year for a similar dupe; or else, what is worse, you marry a ———, who has "tried it on" with a dozen or two, and insists upon her virtue being uncontaminated, because she has never been but in company of gentlemen of the house.

Every body must recollect the pother and runnings after there were in 1816, of a handsome landlady, in Bacon Street, Spitalfields; and yet she was not handsome either; her chief forte lay in looking agreeable, and pleasing the foolish part of our sex, without saying much, giving each one to understand that he was the first in her esteem. At least this was visible to us when she lived in Cow-cross; and, it is to be presumed, she carried the same guileful (though guiltless) arts to her new house. We never went to the latter, being already down to the hoax.

Servant maids in general (we might say universally) are upon the look-out for sweethearts, and husbands; and indeed, this we may say of the whole sex; but here we have nothing to do with honourable or equal matches—it is of the fraudulent, or ill-begotten only, of which we shall here speak.

Public-house attendants are most to be guarded against; for they find you mellowed with the fumes of liquor, to which they administer, by themost scrupulous attention to your least wishes; and having dressed for that purpose, throw out their lures and fascinations, when the heart is least capable of resistance. Most of them will condescend to grant the last favour, if you are base enough to talk about marriage; mention the word love, and you may take almost any personal liberties; for the mistress and master enjoin her, as she values her situation, not to be too skittish with good customers, nor too forward with any; thus judgematically dealing out that which will "do good to the house."

These, as well as servant maidens in general, (especially at lodging-houses) fix upon inexperienced young men, of whom the conquest seems easy. Old harridans who are up to the ways of life, after a dozen disappointments, dress out lamb fashion, wear false curls, and paint a little, nicely; subtract eight or ten years from their age (nominally,) and thus entrap into marriage boys of twenty, one or two, whose earnings or little property, they hope to enjoy, together with his person;—as to his enjoying her, 'tis quite out of the question. C'est toute autre chose. This entrapping of young men, to marry elderly women, I consider to be as much a robbery (of personal happiness and daily income) as any act of violence committed upon the highway.

N. B. Beware then, young men, of these latter description of women! Eschew the tavern and public-house, if you cannot keep your eyes off the enticers there, go to bed and reflect; if you are pestered with the knowing old tabbies at home, and think what will be the feelings of your soul seven years hence to lie down with the ancient fair one, who now invites your caresses; for women of every degree make love, (I am ashamed to say) to the men in London. This accounts why, but is no apology for, the strange disclosures which daily take place here, of such outof-the-way things as strangers would not think possible to happen, are coming to light;—of which murder is not the least frequent, incontinence the never failing attendant.


BEGGARS

May be divided into two species; the bold beggar and the sneaking beggar. The latter is self defined; being no other than those who abjectly implore your pity, and receive rebukes with meekne&s. Some among them, however, attempt larceny, and if discovered turn rusty upon your hands: of these we will speak hereafter.

The bold beggar is he who, with vociferations of his hard case, intimidates the chicken-hearted, the women and children; men of stronger mould also are souietimes choused out of their pence, and so far as the intimidation goes (with either the one or the other), it is no less a robbery than if a pistol was placed at your head, or a dagger at your throat. Half a dozen sailor-dressed men, for instance, will accost you in Blackfriars road, or Goswell Street, or Toftenham court road, or any other outlet, with "God bless your honour! My noble Captain, drop a halfpenny in the hat for poor Jack; not a copper in the locker." On tht ground is his hat, into which if you fail to drop a few pence, like Gil Blas in his history, you perceive what is most probably to be your fate, with this difference, that that Adventurer saw the end of a musket, you stand in awe of a stumped arm. Those fellows sing frightfully, and caper round you, ex-limbed, with as much nimbleness as monkeys, showing by their leaps the agility of squirrels or kangaroos, and leaving you in doubt to which order they belong. I am firmly of opinion they are robbers, and nothing else; as much so as he, who upon the highway, tells you in good plain English "stop! and deliver." What signifies the word or the gesticulations, so that the effect be the same on mind, heart, and purse?

Another set of the bold-ones, are those who knock at your doors, asking for charity, in lond or veiy deep tones, in such a manner as to impress you with the idea of prefernng an immediate donation of a few pence, to the fears of a protracted interview, with such a character as that before you. Should you refuse his request, he scarcely deigns to make room for you to shut the door; retiring the last leg most unwillingly, in the strong hope that you may touch it, so as to enable him to cry out, or to swear damnably, or perhaps to knock again at the door, to demand satisfaction! Such as these, as well as the sailor-looking men, first described, when you pass on without relieving them, follow you a few yards with imprecations on your proud aspect, call you the most opprobrious name at the termination of each sentence, and wish they had you in the bilboes, on half allowance of water, &c. &c.

N.B. Tpon first catching the eye of one of these, put on a scowl, by drawing the eyebrows close together; one shake of the head and "No, not a stiver," finishes the business. If he press the matter farther, and you vociferate "no" and "never;" or some word inapplicable, in a strict sense, to the terms of the demand, it will bother his whack, and compel him to silence, from your "superior knowledge of stuff and nonsense." For example, he asks "your charity for God's sake," at each repetition you answer "can't, indeed!" "Never!" "No; I didn't." "Not in all my life!" "Could not think of it!" This mode is not taunting the dihtrtsses of others: it is nothing more or less, than queering the attempt of a bold beggar to impose upon your softness. The really distressed, claim a different sort of treatment, from this sort of queering, as it is called

The sneaking beggar, who is not really and unintentionally in distress, annoys you in the streets, more particularly when you are in company of females, whose feelings he endeavours to interest in his favour. His whine will follow you half a mile, though his person is in the rear: latterly, however, the nimbler of foot, supplied with religious books, forces his wares upon your attention, which is first arrested on the olfactory nerve, and claiming, by a greasy effluvia, your subscription towards a replenishment of the nauseous olfertory. Under other circumstances, they will creep into the premises of persons who carelessly leave open their fore doors, to pilfer whatever they can lay hands on. Gentlemens' kitchens, back doors, shops and warehouses they enter softly with imploring air: if discovered, they beg; if not, they steal. A gentleman, of some spirit in the city, relates, that he was in the habit daily of reading the newspaper seated in the dado of his shop, while his people were getting ready to attend to their duty: he almost invariably found some of this species of rogues enter in the way we have described. He adds, that one day transacting business with a silk mercer, his neighbour, his face being towards the door, though at the whole distance of the warehouse, he saw enter one of those religious tract venders, who imagining he was unseen, shut up his book-shop and set off with a piece of silk: when overtaken and examined, he maintained stoutly that he was employed to carry it; but upon being asked by whom? he lifted up his eyes towards the ceiling, and made no further defence. He left his cause to "God and his country," and got off, as is too often done, by the connivance of his prosecutor, who made a wilful mistake in the indictment.

All descriptions of beggars sally out of town in the fine summer weather, some few take to harvesting, others to pilfering, and all beg their way back to town at the end of the season, in order to resume their old avocations and their former habits. Out of town, some will ask for alms at the front door while another gets over the walls behind.

One remark is worthy a place here; and that is, the great number of beggars who are actually receiving parish relief, at the moment they are asking for eleemosynary help. Not the insufficient help which consists of a few shillings per week, to pay the rent of a wretched room, in which to rest their emaciated limbs, but meat, drink, washing, lodging, and clothes, sufficient for their subsistence. Impatience under restraint, however, and the love of a wandering life, propel many of them to seek, beyond the walls of a workhouse, the precarious alms of the generous and the undiscriminating part of the community. A few of them obtain leave to go out, in order, as is said, to visit their friends; but the greater number are sent out by the master of the house (who is the contractor for their keep) that he may save their rations for the day! This is most glaring, when he gives them threepence in money, never more than fourpence each, with an assurance that the walk will do them good. They are expected to bring back broken victuals, or something else, for a regale at night.

Great annoyance is experienced, by many respectable people being applied to by beggars with letters and petitions, which they buy ready drawn up, and are couched in the most abject terms; stating their sufferings, and exaggerating their privations. They see your name upon the door, and address a letter to you; if they find out any of your acquaintance, they hesitate not to name them, or put down their signatures to a dirty list of subscriptions. They are mostly impostors, and deep ones, who adopt this scheme: they must be resisted tooth and nail; for if you relieve one you will have a shoal of his or her cronies upon the same errand, at due intervals. Pathetic addresses in the newspapers,—unless well-authenticated, are to be suspected. Some fellows, habited as clergyman, have been convicted of impositions with begging petitions.


  1. Even the terms of art have changed: for instance the word cull or cully, a strumpet's kept man, then, now means a man taken in by her wiles.