Hawkie : page 2

I then started for Newcastle, and began field-preaching; this was a lucrative job among so many colliers, who were all Methodists; I got so dexterous at that craft, that I might have had a church, and was offered to be admitted into the brotherhood, but was afraid that the "holes of my robe would not hold a button, and a small breeze of wind would expose the inside work." I dropped the preaching and left Newcastle, setting out for Carlisle, where I remained till my money was done. I then started for Scotland, and came into Annandale where I first asked what none owed me, that was "charity," my first "cadge" was in the village of Ecclefechan in Dumfriesshire.

  After this I attempted at different times and by different means, to work a passage through the world, but partly through the want of good resolution, or from simplicity,I always failed; I have only this for comfort, I never by any means wronged mankind

of one penny; although they are yet alive who have wronged me out of thousands.When I arrived at the age of thirty, having come through vicissitudes and miseries that the world never did, nor shall hear of, and seeing no possibility of ever redeeming

myself, I then let slip the spirit, that till then I had preserved, and faced a stormy world with a company of wanderers, whose professions were below the dignity of manhood, and whose conditions were below the level of common beggars.

 I remained only a short time in this society, we held our way to the Fife coast; the first stop that we made was at Kincardine, where we turned our pence into half-pence. The next night we stayed at Toryburn, which place we left with-out paying our way, and

entered Dunfermline, fourteen in number, without one half-penny in the company. Here was the first bare-faced imposition that ever I saw practiced. We asked for lodgings, and found a respectable widow woman who was in the habit of keeping

lodgers. She let two rooms. After a little arrangement, they asked her to boil the kettle, which was done, and brought to the room, the table was covered with a cloth and china, but with no food on it.

  The company then struck up a conversation as if they were feasting like princes, and had retinues of servants at command. We posted bills, after securing a house to perform in, but got no encouragement, and after a night's work, our rewards were one-and-twopence "the piece." Each of us tried at how little expense we could fill an empty belly; we stayed there next night also, but making things no better; we divided. A party went to Inverkeithing, where what they drew scarcely paid the lights and the house. I then disengaged myself from the party, crossed the Firth at Queensferry, and went to Edinburgh.

  CHAPTER II - STARTING ON "THE ROAD." - 1815.

ECCLEFECHAN in Dumfriesshire was the first place I begged in. At the first door I went to, the woman gave me a piece of bread; and at the next, the wife made me a "blaw" (meal) bag, of which I was muckle the better, and so started briskly on the

cadge. After cadging the village and going to the "padden-ken" (lodging house), I meted my meal and found that I had eight tankards, that stands for a jigger's peck, it would sell at 3d., this with 5d. in coppers, and plenty of bread and cheese, was my first day's cadge. The keeper of the lodging-house was "radge" (half crazy), and I had one of the funniest nights I ever passed in my life. Next day I travelled to Langholm, and took up my abode in a house which kept nine "snouses" (rough beds). They were all filled, and with difficultly I got in, on condition that I would snooze on the floor. My companions were sweeps, "cairds," roughs, common cadgers, and "high flyers." The town in ordinary times was worth, between meal and money, from three to four shillings, besides "panem" (bread)

 and beef.

 After that I travelled by Hawick and Jedburgh, calling at every town on that southboundary of Scotland, till I reached Berwick; the town was not good, owing to a man of the name of Barney Duthie, who was detected with his wife, daughters, and servant, and tried for forging "shans" (issuing false coin). The whole five were under the sentence of death. On that account I had to cross the brig and stop in Tweed mouth. Here I met a corps of "routers" (real or pretended wives or widows of soldiers or sailors), on their road from London to Aberdeen. I had a night's fuddle with them, when they turned out as many schedules of marriage, discharges of their husbands,

and passes of routes, as might set up a speech-crier. There were nine of them -Highland and Irish. They had an Edinburgh Almanac to help them to find out officers' names in the different regiments.

 They engaged me to travel with them to Aberdeen I got a pound note of "arles"(engagement fee), and I confess them to be the greatest sharpers and imposters I have ever met in the course of my twenty years' travel. We started next morning by Eyemouth to Ayton, having their "routes" relieved in both parishes, and in gentlemen's houses on the road. They received two "screeve" (pounds).

When we were in Cowdenham (Coldingham) Muir, we were passed by the 42nd Regiment, who had landed at Sunderland, on their return from Waterloo (1815).

  As soon as we arrived at Dunbar the schedules of routes were filled up, stating that their husbands belonged to the 42nd Regiment, and had fallen at Waterloo. We then divided, the one party going by Stirling and Perth, the other passing through Fife. We met at Dundee, and the parties from Edinburgh had, of clear cash, 27 "screeve" (£27). We then started north in two divisions, the one holding by Coupar-Angus, Forfar, and Brechin, to meet the other party by Arbroath and Montrose. After arranging their routes, I went with the Arbroath party.On my way between Johnshaven and Bervie, I met with a traveller, who told me that he had met with five women and three children in the hands of some constables, who had been detected at a gentleman's house with false "routes," and were being taken to Stonehaven jail. I then made a stand; I durst not go forward, lest they would "snitch" me, and if I went back the way I had come, I was afraid of pursuit.

  I crossed the country to Laurencekirk, and met the other party to whom I communicated the "pulling match." We then went to Blairgowrie stopping at Lochee,and next day crossed to Broughty Ferry, and landed at Portencraigs. As this was the

party that went by Stirling they were not known in Fife. We went by Cupar, crossing Fife to Queensferry, and at the south ferry each took their own road. I took one ofthem in company, and travelled for England, we entered Brampton in Cumberland;

the woman with me was a bred tinker, and could turn her hand to anything intravelling.

She started the southering (soldering), it took well in that country, and some days we could make 20s.; we travelled together till we reached Manchester, where we fell in with another corps of "routers," on their way to Galway in Ireland; she had travelled

with them before, and wished to do so again; she proposed it to me in an anxious manner, but I told them I would never join such a gang; they then wished me to fill up their schedules, but I was aware of their treachery, and would not do so.

  The next morning she started with them for Liverpool and left me "skirling" for my loss. I then went to Leeds and stayed some time in Yorkshire; this is the land of the cadger;it is the most charitable county in the three kingdoms, if not in the world. I estimate

the number of vagrants in Yorkshire at 15,000, and the expense of their support,taking them by the lump at £25 a-year, would break the contractor in nine months.

  On a common near Leeds I met with the first camp of real gipsies I ever saw. They are a courteous and hospitable people; they called me into a tent, and set a lunch before me that the first nobleman in England might have feasted on. I joined the camp and continued with them about four months. It was then near the end of October, and they were retiring to towns for winter quarters. There were about seventy of them, old and young. We flitted three times during my stay; I left them in the county of Lincoln, came down to the north, and wintered in Newcastle-on-Tyne. I fell in after that with different camps of gipsies, and on account of knowing their "cant" (special "slang"

language), found an easy access to their friendship. They keep all strangers out of their secrets; I never saw their sovereign who, at that time I understood, was an old man in an encampment in Devonshire.

  The gipsies are scrupulous of strangers, trusty in friendship but do not contract them,and in spite revengeful, even to the murder of their relations. They are not idlers, and I never knew any of them begging in the camp. The men work at all kinds of tin-ware

and plaiting. They can make moulds for any coin with exactness, and I have seen them cast "shans" (false coin), that would stand three months. hey are excellent at fancy work, and the women the most acute fortune tellers, and ring and trinket droppers, that ever I witnessed.

  On my return to Edinburgh I shifted from Bell's Wynd to the Canongate, and took my quarters at the house of John Brown, a shoemaker. This man kept a room with three beds in it. In one of the beds lay two boot closers, pupils of Brown's; I had another,

and the remaining one was occupied by one William Skeldon and his family, he, his wife, a daughter about twenty-four, and a boy about fourteen occupying it. Skeldon, who was a native of Clackmannanshire, told me that he was bred a mason in Alloa, but, if ever he was a mason, the houses he helped to build would make a very small town. He was in the habit of sitting as a beggar on the roads round Edinburgh,with his hands drawn up, as if they were powerless, and the givers of charity, had to put the money into his pocket. He and the wife got drunk every night, and, when they cast out, the hands that were amissing through the day, had to defend him at night.

  It was in summer, and I have often seen Skeldon start about three o'clock in the morning, and go to the different roads round, where he lay down and begged, pretending that be had to be out all night, for want of money to pay his bed; and I have often seen him return between eight and nine in the morning with plenty of money and loaded with food. Skeldon's begging at that time was worth, on an

average, 6s. or 7s. a-day. His daughter was a good-looking woman, and had three professions which she daily followed, a strumpet, a shop-lifter, and a pickpocket. When she went out she dressed in style, sometimes without a shirt. One day, I was selling books in the Flesh Market, and saw her there; a lady had got her pocket picked, and there was a crowd round her; on my return to the house I found Katy; her father and mother were out drinking, and I saw a purse half burnt in the grate, which a young girl told me Katy had taken a

handful of gold and silver out of, and I suspected it belonged to the lady. One night, Katy was in company with some young gentlemen, one of whom she "skinned" of three five-pound notes; she was charged with the theft, ran off; but, at Brown's door, was seized by a policeman, and taken to the Canongate office. On being searched nothing was found on her; and she was dismissed.

  After her liberation the notes turned up; on finding the first she opened it out, dried it at the fire, and invited us all out to get a dram. She went to a cellar kept by a man named Peck, to whom she presented the note for change; on looking at it he made some "very unsavoury" remarks, but gave her four pound notes, and a pound in silver for it.

 Sometimes I tried the "pad" (begging) on the roads round Edinburgh. The Canonmills Road, as a "pad," when I first started, was worth on an average, about 5s. and a few "browns" (pence), daily. The Bonnington Road was pestered with pads, sometimes to the amount of ten and twelve. From Broughton Road to Newhaven, from ten in the morning till six at night, was worth from 1s. 6d. to 2s.

  The King's Park to Piershill Barracks was not worth any-thing except on Sunday. When I first begged on it with my hat in my hand, the first Sunday, from three till nine o'clock, I was worth 17s. and some pence, but before I left the city, there was such a number there, and their conduct was so bad, that one half could "turn" it any day.

  I was back and forward in Edinburgh at least nine years, and only once in the police office. That was for calling books with a mob round me in Hanover Street, for which I got a severe reprimand. I left "Auld Reekie" and took the Road to Glasgow.The first night I halted at Broxburn, and stayed in a lodging kept by a tailor. There were two different clans of tinkers lodging there; after disputing their qualifications as budget bearers, they started the subject of religion - the one party was called Ryllie, and declared themselves Roman Catholics - the other, of the name of Cochran, calling themselves Protestants. The argument was ably debated on both sides, the words were few, but the arguments were good.

  The precise part which each speaker addressed was the "knowledge box" of his antagonist, and the "language" used was that of soldering irons and tongs. At last one of the Cochran's received a blow which left his eye on his cheek; this made him roar up and down the house like a "banshee" (an Irish fairy). His wife, who was plying a noble fist with a poker, and at every stroke was saying "suther (solder) yet," got her eye on her husband, in his distress about his "glim" (eye), when she, with the poke; made a slap at the other eye, saying, "is it your eye you are making a work about ?" and thus winning the battle.

I then started for Airdrie, it is a good town for selling a book; here I sent to Glasgow,and got some quires of "Janet Clinker's Orations," when I alarmed Airdrie for the first time with my street lectures. I stayed there a week, and through the day went through the collier towns collecting "the poor rates." The colliers are good for meal, but, never look to them for half-pence, except on pay day. I then went to Hamilton by Bellshill,this is a poor village for a cadger; one half is in poverty, and the other half not willing. I did not get two tankards of meal in the village.

  Next morning I went to Dalziel; this village turned out near a peck of meal and some coppers. I went to a gentleman’s house on the east of the village; as I went up the avenue I met an old gentleman, and begged from him; he asked me if I had anything to shew (he meant a pass). I said " No." As I spoke, a cadger on the look-out for housebreaking, with a respectful bow, handed him a "chat" (certificate). The gentleman read it, and asked the man what he wanted. He said "Charity." The gentleman gave him a strange look, and holding up the "chat" said, "charity with that? That could get you in to be an elder in any parish church. Were I asking a character, the person who would give me such a character would be a greater rascal than myself." And reaching me half-a-crown, said: "You, without the character, and I believe can get one, take that; but you decent man with the character, I have nothing that I can spare you." We both came down the avenue together, and the "high-flyer" said that he was a burglar.

  I went that night to Hamilton, this is a town that is very hard, but I called it with "Watty and Meg," telling them that "it was a cure for ill wives," and I suppose the men knew that they needed it. On the Saturday night I drew upwards of 7s. On Monday I went to Laverockhall (Larkhall). This is a charitable village, and in it and the neighbourhood, I made ten tankards of meal, and some bread. Next day I went to Stonehouse, and made 1s. 1d. I then went to Glasgow, without calling Kilbride, on account of the poor character that it got among travellers.

  When I got to Glasgow I took lodgings in Lady Marshall's Close, in the Bridgegate,where I lodged with an Irishman, a stone-mason; he kept three beds. I occupied one,the other two were occupied by boys. Next morning I asked the landlady what these boys did? She said "they sold articles about the town," but I soon found out that the wares they carried were first "found" and then sold.There were always from four to six of them; they were dexterous in their profession.One of them named Robert Wilson (whose father was a horrid character, and kept a low public-house in the High Street), always attended when there was a crowd. This boy was always consulted when they wanted to know what fairs were coming on, and he would look the almanack, and let them know. One of these boys was a poor innocent; he was Irish, had straggled from home, and came to Glasgow; for some time after he came, he sang ballads in the streets; he afterwards dropped singing, and joined the band. He was soon well-dressed, and made a good offer at the trade. I often observed him, and saw signs of remorse in his countenance.