Part 19

"Betsy and I did not remain long with the gang after this. Long Ned and his mother were our implacable enemies, and neither of us were safe from their revenge--not that I cared a straw for them openly, but I knew their character too well to be at ease. Betsy and I left them, have lived well and comfortably since, and could save money, only there is no occasion for it. We, like all the men of superior minds in the world, live by our wits; there is no occasion for working when we can live without. I never want money and a good diet. Now, you say you have no particular object in view, save to get a ship for India: and why should you court difficulties and dangers abroad, when there is so rich a prospect before you at home? From experience, I can assure you no trade is so easy, or quickly learned, as begging. The first day is the worst; after that it came quite natural and agreeable."

There was a romance and bustle in the events he had narrated, which had a strange charm for me, and opened up a new leaf in the book of life. I had no conception of beggary but as extreme misery, and, until now, held them as synonymous terms, from what I had witnessed in Edinburgh in the early part of my youth. I had had no idea of the regular systematic beggar. My notions were formed upon the destitute widow and orphan, those whom I had herded with, who shrunk from importunity, and scarce let their wants be known, enduring hunger to the extreme ere they stealthily crept forth from their abodes of wretchedness, and returned as soon as their urgent wants were satisfied. To Bill I made known my surprise at the history he had given me of himself, and my wonder that any one should ask charity, save those who had no other means of supporting themselves.

"I once knew as little of the matter as you," said he, "but this I know now were none but the really needy to ask charity, they would soon be supplied, and fare well, but it is too good a trade, once begun, to be given up easily. But here is Betsy, to tell us dinner is ready."

The repast did honour to her cooking, and consisted of the best the town could afford. She herself sat at table, more lady-like than I thought it possible a gipsy girl could have done.

"Bill," says I, "if your trade were as honourable as it appears to be profitable, I would commence it this night."

"And what is more dishonourable in it, than any other calling a man may choose to live by?" said the young wife, with a smile. "Is not the whole bent of every one's mind to get as much from every one of his fellow-men as he can? Does not the king and his ministers get all they can from the people by taxation? Do not the ministers of the church get all they can from their flocks? Do not the lairds get all they can for their lands, the merchant get all he can for his goods, and the poor man get all he can for his labour? Real utility or value enters not into their minds at bargain-making. It is how they can get most of their neighbour's property, in the safest and easiest manner. What is honour but a fluctuating opinion? As I have heard my father say when he spoke the words I am now uttering--it is honourable for kings to take their subjects from their peaceful employments, and send them to plunder and destroy other states, it is honourable to be one of the plunderers; for one man to shoot another for some trifling word is honourable. Every nation has its own notions of this same thing called honour. But we of the wandering tribe think it means gold, for he that has got the most of it is the most esteemed, and he that has not a penny in his purse has not a jot of honour, though he had all the virtues. And why? Because, from the king to the beggar, no one can expect to add to their store from him. He is an egg already eaten--an empty shell; and, as such, crushed and thrown aside. These are the words of my father."

I heard the bewitching creature with astonishment, and could not but admire how easily every class finds consolation to themselves, by arguing as it suits their views. I had often before remarked, that when numbers of any class associated, they rose in their own estimation; but I had no idea that the beggars carried it so far.

"But it is under deceit and false pretence," said I, to enjoy the pleasure of hearing her speak, "you extort money from the humane and charitable. I would rather work to the death."

"That is a matter of choice or education," replied she. "We use no more deceit than is necessary to obtain our object, and all the world do the same, while we do more to give pleasure to the good than any other class. Don't we keep alive the kindly feelings of man? My Bill there, as you saw him this morning, was a walking lecture upon the miseries of war, and I am sure, from what I saw in your looks at the time, that you felt a real pleasure in having it in your power to give him the half-crown--nay, had you walked on, you would have slept the sounder for it. Had you tippled it, or spent it foolishly, you would have regretted parting with it. Even now, that you think we had no need of it, your self-esteem is only wounded at being imposed upon; but your heart upbraids you not for your good intentions; and may not a beggar feel pleasure in the success of his arts as much as those of another calling?"

"Does not Betsy speak like a parson?" said Bill. "I can't say I feels as if all was right when I am rigged out for an excursion; but, somehow, she appears to have reason on her side; and, even if I were to get a ship, I must leave my pretty Bess, so I just get on; and I am now pretty well used to it. If I had staid by my trade, as my parents wished me, I could have wrought for her at home, but Betsy is pleased, and I have no more to care for."

"And why should I not?" she quickly replied. "I have been bred to it, and know nothing else. I could not live mewed up in a house, however grand. A wide heath, or a dark wood, with a few light, verdant, sunny spots embossed in its bosom, has far more charms for me than a crowded city or painted room; and the piece of money, dexterously obtained, has a beauty about it that does not belong to the fixed income. I had as soon be in my grave as a sober citizen; for there would be as much exercise for the mind in the one case as the other."

For a moment I looked with admiration at the lovely girl, as her face glowed with animation while she spoke; but pity soon took its place, suggesting the mournful reflection, that a mind of her powers was in a state of nature, and what it might have been, had it been cultivated. A sigh escaped me at the thought of my own inability to lend instruction. She saw the cloud upon my brow.

"Come, Bill," she said, laughing, "you neglect your friend; he grows sad. Shall we to the kenn to-night? We are expected."

"To be sure, Betsy," replied he. "Square, fill your glass; and don't break your heart because Betsy is my wife, and can't be yours. There will be rare fun, I expect, and would advise you to go."

I was in that mood at the time, between the serious and the sad, contrasting the pious and modest Helen Grey with the pert and forward beauty before me. Both were lovely in their persons--but how different in expression and mind! Helen was a lily, modest, and filling the air around her with a mild perfume; Betsy, an exotic flower, of surpassing beauty, with an odour so powerful, it required time to render it not offensive; yet it was a lovely flower, and in a skilful gardener's hands would have been the honour of his plots, and the object of his pride. Under the example and tuition of Helen, I had felt some serious impressions--at times a thorn, at others a balm, as my own wayward actions were approved or condemned. I wished to speak seriously to the interesting creature before me, but could not find resolution. I was conscious that it would be an evening of regret if I was left alone, so I agreed to accompany them.

"Hurrah!" shouted Bill; "you will, I see, be a mumper yet. But you can't appear in that rig, Square; you could not get admittance. Betsy will furnish you out of my store. Will you be a soldier, a sailor, or a ruined, burned-out tradesman? I guess you will be a tar?"

"Certainly," I replied.

"Shall you lack a whole fin, or part of one, or be lame of a leg? Make your choice."

"Oh, half-an-arm," said I, now ripe for the fun I expected.

In a few minutes Betsy had me so completely changed, I hardly knew myself, even when I looked in the glass. An immense long tie of false hair--mine being then of a sandy colour, the same nearly as Bill's--was brought forth, opened, and my own shorter tie secured in it. With a liquid she browned my face. To this I at first objected, until she assured me that she would wash it off in the morning. An old pair of canvas trousers, a ragged jacket, a shabby vest and hat, were given to me. When I came to put on the jacket, she caused me to double my arm, laying my hand upon the top of my shoulder; and there was a case in the tattered arm, made of leather, to receive it. With difficulty my doubled limb was forced in, presenting the elbow first. For some time the constrained position pained me, for there was a flap of leather that came over my open hand, and was made fast to my trousers, to diminish the bulk.

"Where did you lose your arm, my good lad?" said the smiling Betsy, as she offered a halfpenny in jest.

"Faith, I do not know, mistress, if you have not cut it off for me," I replied.

"Jack, that will never do," said she, "I will send for the constable, you impostor;" and she turned, smiling, from me, with all the airs of a fine lady; then, turning round, and assuming the attitude of a beggar, "Bless your pretty face," she said, "sweet lady, spare a halfpenny to a poor tar, who lost his precious limb in defending the beauties of Old England."

"I have no coppers."

"Oh, bless you, beautiful lady," she continued, "I would die of want, were it not for angels like you;" and she whined along the floor, as if she had followed some one.

Bill and I could not refrain from laughter.

"Does she not do it in style?" he said, exultingly. "Take the dear creature's advice, and copy her, and you need never want a good bed and a good diet, besides money in your fob, and be a jolly beggar."

"Are there more kinds of beggars than one?" said I.

"Oh," replied he, "there are many kinds; for instance jolly beggars, sturdy beggars, humble beggars, and randy beggars. I had forgot the gentle beggars; but you will see them of all description."

And away we trudged--Betsy as an old decrepid woman, and with so well-managed a metamorphosis, that I, who saw the change effected, could scarce believe my eyes. Bill was not the same person I had seen in the morning; he only wanted his left arm, which was bandaged by his side, and his leg supported at the knee by a wooden substitute for the lower part of it.

"This," said he, "was my last cruising dress when I was among them. I was maimed, as you see, in the gallant Admiral Hawke's own ship, when we defeated Conflans. You may have either lost your fin there or at Cape Breton, for our meetings are a kind of masquerade--no one knows his fellow, but as in the character he for the time assumes."

After a few turns through dark alleys, we arrived at a low dirty-looking public-house. As we entered, Bill whispered in my ear--

"Now, Square," said he, "this is Liberty Hall--every one eats what he pleases, drinks what he pleases, and, I may say, speaks as he pleases. All I advise is, do not be too ready to take or give offence. Betsy has agreed to sit by you--be guided by her."

We entered one by one. A single flickering light was attached to the wall; everything bespoke the most abject poverty, until we had passed through a second small apartment, when the sound of voices, mixed with boisterous laughter, fell upon my ears.

"We are too late, I fear," said Betsy; "the fun is begun."

The next moment the door opened--and such a scene! I did not think the universe could have produced such a collection of apparent misery and mutilation. The miraculous pool of Siloam, the evening before the angel descended to trouble the waters, I really believe, never furnished such a spectacle of incurables. To be more particular would only disgust you: all was hilarity and vulgar enjoyment. Viands of the richest kinds--roast fowls, and meats of all varieties--smoked on a table at one side of the room, and which, as called for by the guests, was cut off in proportion to the amount ordered, handed to the expectant guest, and the money received before the plate was delivered. Some had done, and commenced their favourite liquors; others were doing justice to the cookery--praising, and not a few finding fault.

"What shall I have the pleasure of handing to Mr Kay?" cried the landlord, bowing.

"Betsy, my love, what shall we have?" said Bill.

"What you please, Bill, for myself. Square, what do you wish?" she said.

"Oh, I care not," I replied.

"Then, landlord, a duck; and have you any green peas yet?"

"The season is backward; I have some," replied he, "but they are a little high-priced."

"So much the better--send half-a-crown's worth with the duck, for me and my friends."

"Well, Kay, you always do the thing genteelly; but who is this friend of yours?" said a fat little man, in very rusty black, of a clerical cut.

"An old messmate of mine, I met by chance to-day--a real good un."

"As Mr Kay's friend, I drink your health, and our better acquaintance."

"Thank you, doctor," said Kay; and I did the same.

After every one had satisfied his appetite, and got his liquor before him, the noise of voices, joined to the boisterous laughter, was absolutely deafening--all were in committees of twos and threes, talking. I began to despair of getting my curiosity gratified by Betsy on the spot; for the noise was so great that to whisper was impossible. Never in my life had I witnessed such unbounded apparent happiness and glee--all was enjoyment. At length a little hunch-backed caricature of a man leaped upon the head of the table, and, seated like a Turk, crosslegged, struck the table with a wooden mallet, and, in a hoarse, croaking voice, commanded silence and attention to their president for the night. In a minute all was still. Without rising to his feet, he croaked forth--

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are met here to forget the cares and toils of the day. You have all (or you have your purse to blame) had your pleasure of the eatables--of the drinkables you shall have the same provided. I add no more, save a word for our worthy landlord. He says, if we do not be less noisy, and give him less trouble than the last time we met, he must either cease to enjoy our company, or be on more intimate terms with the magistrates--an honour he does not covet. He has been a man to be sought after by the authorities already. Now, ladies and gentlemen, I call on Rhyming Bob for his last new song--ruff him in. Up rose a tall, gaunt, shabby-genteel, pale-looking figure, bowed to the company, and began, in a cracked voice, affectedly to chant some doggerel verses against the Ministers of State. I looked inquiringly at Betsy.

"Oh, that is the poet," said she; "a gentle beggar by nature and profession, he has no shift but his verses, and a poor shift it makes for him. He bothers the gentry with his rhymes; sometimes gets kicked out, sometimes a six-pence. Hand him, when done, a glass Bill; he has been more fortunate than usual, if he has one of his own. He had better attended to teaching his scholars than song-writing. Our friend the doctor here is also a gentle beggar--he gets nothing on the streets and highways--he writes a good letter as a distressed clergyman or reduced man of education, and lives well, as you see. A great number, almost all the maimed, are jolly beggars, like Bill, and what you are to be. They have numerous ways of earning a subsistence, and spend it as freely. They never take anything save money in charity, for, poor souls, they are too feeble to carry heavy gifts."

The noisy applause of the poet's song put a stop to our whispering. When order was restored, Mrs Kay was called upon for a song. Betsy immediately stood up in her old woman's attire, and astonished me, little as I know of music, by the sweetness of her voice, and the effect with which she sang, "An old woman clothed in grey." Twice was she obliged to sing it to the company, which she did with the utmost good nature. When the deafening applause had abated, or, I may rather say, the storm of noises had ceased, a stout, red-haired, broad-shouldered, rather shortish man was called upon to sing. He gave a Welsh song, the air of which was pretty, but the words uncouth to my ear.

"That is one of the sturdy beggars," said Betsy; "he refuses nothing that is given him, carries all upon his person, and often, before he reaches the proper place to dispose of his gatherings, they amount to the weight of many stones. He always tells the charitable, when asked what is his complaint that prevents him from working--I can't speak the Welsh word, but it means 'sheer laziness.' The people are confounded at the, to them, unintelligible and strange name of the disease, and are ready to relieve the afflicted man. Once or twice, they say, he has been detected by countrymen of his own, who laughed at his impudence, and gave the true meaning of the words. The sturdies are a numerous class. The randies are nearly, if not, of the same class; they abuse and threaten until they are supplied, when they dare with impunity. The humble, poor creatures are old or real cripples--take what they get, and are thankful; there is not one of them here this night that I see."

We had now sat in the pandemonium for nearly three hours. The potency of the liquor had for some time began to preponderate--angry words were exchanging, and some were sleeping, with their heads leaning upon the table. Bill himself was more than half-seas over, and began to bawl out a sea-song. Betsy and I endeavoured to keep him in order, and wished him to retire. We had succeeded, and were rising to leave the company--Bill only half-inclined--when a stranger entered the hall of confusion and drunkenness. We were on our feet. I saw Betsy turn pale as death, and turn her head aside. A number of voices called out, "Hurrah! hurrah! here is Long Ned." A young female, whose eye I had noticed was seldom turned from where we sat, cried out--

"Betsy, you are not going away because your old sweetheart, Long Ned, has come in?"

"Shiver my timbers if we are!" cried Bill; and in a moment sat down and called for more liquor. I, as well as Betsy, saw that the envious female was bent on mischief; but how to prevent it I knew not. Long Ned had seated himself at the other side of the table, gloomy as Satan. I felt her tremble, as she sat by my side, I believe more through rage at the female than fear. Long Ned was evidently bent on some mischief or other, and he was quite sober. Bill and he eyed each other for some time. Betsy was coaxing him, to get him away, as well as myself.

"No, I will not leave the room," he said, "while that scoundrel is in it; I will face him, or fight him out, if he says an uncivil word to you or myself."

The same female sat only one seat from him; I saw them whispering together. Betsy's dark eyes glanced fire. She unbuckled his timber leg, and took it off. Scarce was this done, when Ned said aloud--

"Tell me, Kay, how much you have sold the jilt Bessy for. I see she is very gracious with your ac----" He had only got thus far, when the wooden leg was launched across the table, and felled him to the ground.

A scene of uproar and confusion no words can express ensued; the lights were extinguished; blows were dealt furiously around; and the sleepers awoke and joined in the strife. Bitterly did I regret my curiosity, as well as the bondage my arm was in from its long confinement; it was benumbed and painful. As I had no immediate interest in the strife, I retired to one corner of the room, where I found several as anxious as myself to escape. Shouts of murder and groans were mixed with vengeful cries. At length the door was burst open, and a body of constables entered. The moment I saw this I slipped along the side of the room and darted past them, receiving in my flight several severe blows, and leaving the skirts and breasts of my jacket in the hands of those in the way who attempted to stop my career. I turned down the first opening I came to, and ceased to run, as no one appeared to follow me. Fortunately, I had the old canvass trousers and vest above my own, in which was secured my guineas and silver. With some difficulty I freed myself from the jacket, then I with ease got off the others, and had the mortification to find myself, pretty late in the evening, without a lodging, jacket, or hat.

As I began to cool, and find myself secure from pursuit, the contusions I had received from the staves of the constables pained me very much, particularly one I had received upon the head; I put up my hand, and found it bleeding pretty fresh. Thus was I in a fine mess to seek for a decent lodging, or account for my present plight. As I turned over in my mind for a plausible story, I perceived a respectable-looking inn still open, and made straight for it. There were several seafaring men, like captains of coasters, sitting in the tap. When I entered, all eyes were turned upon me. The landlord insisted upon turning me out, without allowing me to speak. The company took my part, and insisted that I should be heard. I had now my story ready as near the truth as I dared--I told them I was a stranger from Scotland, on my way to London, in quest of a vessel, and had only arrived in the town that evening, when I had had a quarrel and fight, having been insulted, and some one had carried off my hat, jacket, and bundle; but that I had plenty of money to pay my way. As soon as I had finished, the landlord became all civility; I got my head bound up, and a good lodging, and got intimate with one or two of the captains before I retired to bed.

Next morning my head ached, but nothing to speak of. I arose, sent for a dealer in clothes, and purchased a jacket and hat, had breakfast, and took a walk through the town. As I did not intend to leave it until I had heard the issue of the brawl, nothing else was talked of. The fight between them and the constables had been long and severe, for they made a desperate resistance; and it was not until several of the inhabitants had reinforced the civil power, that the beggars were secured, and lodged in jail, male and female. I wished only to know the fate of Bill and Betsy, and then started upon my journey--I wished to have no further intercourse with them. My bundle, and necessaries in it, I had given up for lost, unless they were liberated, at least Betsy, through the course of the day. I could not have found my way to their room without inquiry; and this it was neither prudent nor of any use to make, until they were liberated. Well, the magistrates were busy examining them, I was told, the whole forenoon, and the issue was, that all the able-bodied rascals--Bill amongst the rest--were sent to man His Majesty's navy, and the females were to be confined, and then banished the town for ever.

I returned to my inn, and, by appointment, met my new acquaintances, the captains;--one of them, the captain of a brig, was loading grain for London. I was weary of walking on foot, and agreed with him for a passage, leaving my conductors to the beggars' ball in durance; the males expecting to be sent off in a day or two, and the females making out their solitary confinement, preparatory to their banishment.

LEEIN JAMIE MURDIESTON.