The Autobiography of "Cockney Tom" potx

Title: The Autobiography of "Cockney Tom" Author: Thomas Bastard * A Project Gutenberg Australia eBook * eBook No.: 0800591.txt Language: English Date first posted: June 2008 Date most recently updated: June 2008 This eBook was produced by: Peter Kelly Project Gutenberg Australia eBooks are created from printed editions which are in the public domain in Australia, unless a copyright notice is included. We do NOT keep any eBooks in compliance with a particular paper edition. Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing this file. This eBook is made available at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg Australia License which may be viewed online at http://gutenberg.net.au/licence.html To contact Project Gutenberg Australia go to http://gutenberg.net.au Title: The Autobiography of "Cockney Tom" Author: Thomas Bastard The Autobiography of "Cockney Tom," Showing his Struggles through Life, and proving this Truth of the Old Saying "that Honesty is the best Policy" Published under the Patronage of His Excellency Sir W F D Jerbois G.C.M.G. 1 Adelaide: McClory and Masterman, Printers, Grenfell Street. 1881 PREFACE. It has been said that where there is no sense of danger, there no danger need be feared; so the writer of this Autobiography ventures, despite any array of critics, to present the sketch of his life to a public whose indulgence he craves. He claims no merit for literary workmanship, but solely for truth and candour, and in those respects his book cannot be excelled. As understood by the writer of this preface, the aim of the work has been twofold, namely, to leave to a large circle of cherished friends, acquaintances, and relatives the exact memorials of a life marked by more than an ordinary vicissitudes; and also of the manner in which it is intended to illustrate how possible is the growth of evil habit, upon a genial, sociable disposition, and how equally possible an absolute reformation. If the work should prove pleasant, the author would be pleased; if profitable, he will be paid by coin that he would not exchange for the best mintage of the world. THIS WORK IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED T0 MR. MATTHEW BURNETT, THE GREAT TEMPERANCE ADVOCATE, AS A SLIGHT TOKEN OF ESTEEM BY HIS ADMIRING FRIEND, THE AUTHOR. CONTENTS. [Note: Page numbers are shown in the paper book, however there is no other indication as to the actual place where the description of each event begins. In this ebook, which does not include the original page numbers, the list below merely provides the sequence of events described in the book.] My Grandfather, and what he was Introducing My Father and Uncle Phillip My Mother, Foster Mother, and Nurses A Rich Aunt and an Old Gun Nearly Burnt to Death Old Gun Takes me Home What he did with me there I am Apprenticed My Master, and What He Was Like I get into Prison, and make many acquaintances I Get Out Again, and Return to My Master I Run Away, and Travel to Gain Knowledge I Commence Singing for a Living, and Return to London My Courtship, Marriage, and many Hardships A Change in My Life much for the better Join the Choristers at St. Barnabas, Pimlico Become a Tradesman, and have many Good Customers I Catch the Gold Fever, and make up my mind to go to Australia My Visit to the Rev. W. E. Bennett His Parish Clerk I Embark at Southampton My Voyage My Arrival at Adelaide What I Did, and How I Got My Living I Leave Adelaide for Victoria and the Goldfields My Arrival in Melbourne, and What I Thought of It On the Tramp to the Diggings Events on the Road I Arrive at Forest Creek, and Make Acquaintances Depart From Forrest Creek, and Goes to Tarangower The Ball at Castlemaine, and What Took Place There Life in the Diggings at Tarangower My Tramp Back to Melbourne My Return to Adelaide My Military Career as a Sergeant in the Army My Discharge I Become a Bank Messenger, Public Singer, Agent, &c. Tired of the Bank, I Turn My Attention to Swimming I Become Acquainted with the Man who Robbed the Duke of Edinburgh Tries Boating on the River Torrens The Dam Bursts Up, And I lose My Boats I Establish Turkish Baths the Good They Have Done to the City My Wife Dies, and I take to Drink I meet with the Rev. Matthew Barnett The Good Results of His Doctrines I Attend His Lecture on "Yankee Bill" I Become a Sober Man, and Write this Autobiography Dates and Particulars * * * * * LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS [These are shown at the end of the ebook] * * * * * 2 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF "COCKNEY TOM" PART I. I, Cockney Tom, am the son of a gun, who was so called because his father was a general in the Navy. Now this requires a little explanation. My grandfather, you must know, was master-at-arms on board the Royal Standard, 74 guns. It was his duty as a: warrant-officer to officiate when a man was to be flogged for getting drunk, or any other crime. They were tied up to a grating and punished with the cat in those days. Thank goodness it is not so now in the British Navy. It was the duty of the armorer to attend the surgeon of the ship in full uniform, with drawn sword, to see that the prisoner received his allowance. The armorer was to count the lashes, and the doctor's duty was to tell the boatswain to cast the man off when he saw he could bear no more. So this is how the aforesaid son of a gun's grandfather was nicknamed the flogmaster-general. Gun was armorer's mate, fought in three engagements, and got his discharge without pension. His brother was not so fortunate. He rose by merit to be a second lieutenant, and one day was ordered to man the boat and go on shore at Portsmouth with orders for the ship. When he reached the stairs the men begged so hard to be allowed to go on shore for a short time to purchase some necessaries, that Gun's brother gave them leave, on their engaging, on honor, to return soon. Imagine his feelings when he returned to find that all his men had deserted. In this dilemma Gun's brother did not know what to do; to go on board he was ashamed, and therefore he made up his mind to follow the example of the men and bolt. He did so, was caught, and was sent to Portsmouth gaol to be identified by his brother officers. They came the next morning and took him on board, and placed him in irons. A court-martial was called; he was reduced from lieutenant to common seaman, and then they sentenced him to two dozen lashes, which he received on his birthday as a very unwelcome present. Gun obtained his discharge, went to London, and got married, by which transaction he increased and multiplied the earth to the extent of ten children, I being the wind-up of the lot, which consisted of nine boys and one girl. Now began some of the stirring and painful events of my wonderful life. My mother died when I was only five months old, and my sister became my only nurse. She used to carry me round the parish to mothers who had babies, and beg a drop of milk from one and another, so that I had many foster-mothers. Now, it so happened that I had a rich aunt, and she made an offer to Old Gun that if he would give me up entirely to her care, she would settle her property on me, as she had no children of her own, which offer Old Gun readily accepted. The will was made and duly registered, and I was taken from Old Gun and placed under the care of a good nurse. Old Gun took to chink, and when drunk visited my nurse, and listened to her complaints against my aunt. He called and had words with her, which so disgusted the old lady that she sent for a lawyer and altered her will, without leaving me a single penny. (So much for drink.) I remained with this nurse about five years. About this time I was nearly burned to death, my nurse having left me to mind the house. I got playing with the fire until my pinafore caught alight, when I ran out into the street all in a blaze. Two working men, who happened to be passing, seized me and threw me into a ditch close by. After that they took me to a doctor, and I was laid up in bed for twelve months. When Old Gun heard of it, he took me away from my nurse, and when he got me home he made use of me to fetch his gin, while he was on the drink. I remember fetching Gun as many as nineteen half quarterns of gin before dinner, and sometimes he would be on the fuddle for a fortnight. Gun having got into debt with a publican, to the extent of two pounds, he summoned him for the amount. As Gun refused to pay, the publican caused him to be sent to gaol for six weeks. I used to visit father Gun in prison, and take him coffee and sugar. Now, while Gun was in trouble I was also doomed to suffer. Gun's landlady refused to give me a night's lodging. I lived on the few coppers earned by running about the city and holding gentlemen's horses. At last, to get rid of me the landlady took me to the workhouse, and left me there till Gun came out of prison. When Gun did come out, it was only to have a change from gaol to workhouse. At last the end came, and Gun died a penitent sinner. The parish apprenticed me to a shoe-maker, a man that wanted the premium much more than he wanted the boy. My master treated me more like a dog than a human being. I was fed badly, and clothed worse; was allowed one suit of the commonest corderoy that could be got per year. In fact I wore one pair of trousers until 3 they became kneebreeches. One pair of common boots a year, and a good sound thrashing twice a week. Not only were my hours of labor from five o'clock in the morning until ten at night, but my fare was far worse. Now it so happened at this period of my life that I took a fancy to swimming, and in order to gain a knowledge of this art I used to get up very early every morning and bathe in a canal which was not far off. This pastime nearly cost me my life. No less than three times I was brought out of the water nearly dead; but I was determined not to be beaten, and after taking lessons of a professor I became a very fair swimmer. I soon found that my master was a bad man, the woman that lived with him had left her husband (a respectable farmer in Yorkshire), and both these worthies took to heavy drinking. At this time I was between 15 and 16 years of age. My master kept a fine house, but like many other worthies, he forgot to pay his rent, and was so clever that he got into debt with everyoue. At last, being greatly troubled in his mind, he determined to shoot, not himself, but the moon, as it was called in London, which being interpreted means that he ran away from his house in the night time, not forgetting to take his goods with him; but in his hurry and excitement left an old bedstead in the house. I was ordered to go early the next morning and get this bedstead out by the back door, my master being there to help me carry it home. To accomplish this task I had to, get through the cellar window. I succeeded in taking down the bedstead, put the screws in my pocket, and got it outside, when, alas, I beheld that kindest of friends, the policeman, who most affectionately put his hand upon my arm and marched me off to the lockup on a charge of house-breaking. I was taken before the magistrate and the landlady appeared against me. I was committed for trial on the charge, and was most graciously conveyed in His Majestys King William the IV's carriage to Horsemonger Lane Gaol. I was kept in prison eleven days before my trial, and no one was allowed to see me but my fellow prisoners, and when at last I was tried, I pleaded my own case, and succeeded in justifying my conduct by explaining that I was only an apprentice, and therefore bound to obey my master's orders, and keep his secrets, according to the wording of my indentures, and so I was honourably acquitted. While I was in gaol I had to attend chapel. Now any moral or religious benefit I might have received from such attendance was utterly neutralized by bad management of our prisons, in compelling comparatively innocent persons to mix with the greatest blackguards and thieves in London. As a matter of fact there was some prisoners there at the same time that I. was obliged to associate with who were guilty of every crime you can mention, including murder. Amongst them, however, was a Rev. Dr. Taylor, who was imprisoned for speaking against the bible and the government. He used to lecture at the rotunda in the Blackfriar's Road. He made my acquaintance, and taught me many good things, and although a prisoner, he was not by any means a bad man, for he had the fear of God in his heart. He persuaded me to attend Sunday-school and church when I got out. Altogether this Rev. gentleman's influence upon me was for my good, and far more likely to effect my reformation than any punishment in gaol, especially when injudiciously administered. I did not forget his good counsel, for when I got back to my master I begged to be allowed to go to a Sunday-school, and also to church. This request was granted, and many a time I went without my Sunday's dinner rather than be late at school. The Parish clerk found out that I had a voice, so he sent for me and gave me lessons in hymn and psalm singing, and chanting the service. I felt very proud of this, and although I occasionally received a good thrashing from my master for the most trifling mistakes in my work, I bore up well till I was nearly seventeen years of age. By this time, however, my master's treatment grew rather worse than better, so I determined to nun away and try the country, for a change of air. I had a married brother living at Hastings, in Sussex, and to go there I began to save up for the journey out of my pocket money, which was only threepence per week, out of which I saved two-thirds. At length, with my savings, which amounted to tenpence, a two pound loaf, and no butter, I rose at three o'clock on a beautiful summer's morning and crept down stairs very softly, opened the door and got outside without being heard by any of the inmates. After walking about five miles without resting, I began to sing a verse from an old man-a-war song, as follows: "I wish I was at Hastings With my true love along with me, Everything that's fitting, To serve His Royal Majesty. Where liquor there is plenty, Flowing bowls on every side, Hard fortune ne'er shall daunt me, For I'm young and the world is wide." After walking eight miles, I bad a rest, and refreshed the inner man with bread and water. While resting, a fish 4 van happened to pass on its way to Hastings, the very place I was bound for. I made a dart and got up behind. When the driver stopped to change horses, I asked him if he would allow me to ride behind, for which privilege I offered to skid the wheel, which means, in railway language, put on the brake. When the driver learnt that my brother lived at Hastings he took an interest in me, and was very kind for the rest of the journey. I arrived safe and sound the same night, and found out my brother's residence, but, unfortunately, my brother was ten miles from home, working at a gentleman's seat, and did not return for a week after my arrival. My sister-in-law was very good to me at first, but soon began to speak in terms that convinced me that she was no friend of mine. She used to drink gin on the sly, and get drunk, and deceive her husband by making him believe that she was ill. Fearing that I would let my brother into the secret, she became my bitter enemy. I saw through it, and when I had managed to get work, I left my brother's house and took lodgings amongst a tribe of gipsies who lived in the neighbourhood. My new master was a regular "out and outer" a splendid workman, well educated, a good reciter, but too fond of company and drink, which kept him poor, and made his wife miserable. She was very good to me, and gave me many a meal when my master was on the spree. I left the Gipsies, and found cheap lodgings by the sad sea waves, in the fishing boats. I used to rise early and assist the fishermen to wash and pack their fish for market, for which service I used to get a fish for breakfast. It was at Hastings that I improved in the art of swimming; I might have been seen in the sea, three times a day; and so the time rolled on. I improved in my trade, but, unfortunately, at the end of the season I had no work to do. I then took it into my head that I would return to London, and find out my sister. The next question was how to get there without money to start with? The thought struck me that I could sing my way back. I started accordingly early one morning and walked eight miles to a place called Battle, the spot where the great battle of Hastings took place. When I arrived, I found there was a fox hunt on, and that after the hunt there was to be a dinner for the sportsmen, so I made up my mind to stay and offer my services as a singer, and trust to their generosity as to what they would give me. I did so, and so pleased the company that they gave me a good dinner and four and ninepence to boot, and the landlord gave me a night's lodging. I started next morning for Tunbridge, in Kent; next I went to Maidstone, where I met with a harpist with whom I joined company, I to sing, and harpy to play, and go share in the profits. We waited on the mayor of the town, and got his permission to play and sing in the streets. We did well, lived like fighting cocks, and saved money. From Maidstone we travelled to Sittingbourne, where we were engaged to play and sing in the Assembly Rooms, and there made a great hit in my song, "Funking the Cobbler," sung in caricature. I now began to fancy myself. From there I found my way to Chatham, wher? I was engaged in a low concert room, frequented by soldiers, sailors, and bad women. I learnt no good there, but a great deal that was bad. I did not stop long there but went on to Rochester, got work at my trade, and for a time gave up singing. From Rochester I went to Gravesend, where I worked at my trade, singing now and then professionally. Thence I travelled to London and found out my sister, who received me with sisterly love. I got work and lived very happily with her for a long time. It so happened that my sister had an acquaintance who used to call and see her occasionally. One day this friend brought her eldest, daughter with her. I was engaged at my work, singing away as only shoemakers can sing, the following beautiful lines: "Beware those finikin lasses, And never by beauty be led; For a girl that surpasses all others 'Tis she that works hard for her bread." "Who is that singing?" enquired the young woman. "It is my brother Tom," replied my sister. "I should like to see him," she said, "You shall," said my sister, and she brought the young woman into the room where I was working. I blushed, for I thought, I had never before seen such a good-looking young person. We all had tea, and I had the impertinence to ask her to take a walk, and she did not refuse. From that time we became lovers, and were four months afterwards married at St. John's Church, Waterloo-road, Lambeth. After I had brought the ring, paid the parson, and given a dinner (which I had also paid for), I took my bride to furnished lodgings. I got up the next morning to work with the large capital of three shillings and sixpence to start a new life. I, however, was not going to be discouraged with such a small beginning, and as neither my wife nor I were deficient in pluck, we both determined to work early and late, and soon got a home of our own-a small one, in 5 Walworth, where we lived as happily together, as if our house had been a mansion. But this happy state of things was destined not to last long. When the winter came, I was thrown out of work, and my wife was confined of a daughter, and things had now come to such a pass, that I took to singing again in order to obtain food. The result of having to be out late at nights, was that I fell ill, and was laid up with a fever. The doctor ordered me to St. Thomas' Hospital, where I remained for eight weeks, during which time none of my friends, safe my good wife, came to see me. At last I found myself better, and left the Hospital; but only for a short time, for a second attack obliged me to return for some weeks longer, until I had regained my strength. I then made a flesh start, got work at a bespoke shop, and became the don during the two years I worked as journeyman. I then left Lambeth, and obtained work in Chelsea, with better wages; but as food and rent was dear, I was no better off than before I came to the west-end. My troubles seemed as if they would never end, for my wife and four children now took the measles, and when my wife got Letter, I was again taken bad with a cold in my eyes, which nearly blinded me. I then became an outpatient at the Opthalmic Hospital, Charring Cross; and for many weeks I could work, and had to go to the parish for bread for my children. After suffering great privation, I at last got better, and again worked at my trade, and in order to make up for lost time, I again took to singing at night in low concert-rooms, receiving from three to five shillings per night, and my beer. I followed this up for some time, when a sudden change took place in my life. It happened while I was working one day, and at the same time rehearsing my songs for the night's entertainment, that I was disturbed by a gentle knock at the door. "Come in!" said I, and a lady entered, with the remark, "I beg your pardon, but was that you singing just now?" "Yes, ma'am," said I; "I have to get my living partly by singing." "Do you sing at church?" "No, I do not," I replied. "Can you sing by music?" "No ma'am." "Would you like to be taught?" "I should like very much, ma'am," said I. "Do you go to our church? we have beautiful singing there, and I am sure you would like it. Will you come if I promise to be your friend? I see you are a shoemaker. Would you object to work for yourself instead of a master?" I said that I should very much like to be my own master, and be able to give up the concert-room business. "Well, then, to begin with, you can take my measure for a pair of shoes, and come to my house in Grosvenor Place, and I will leave several pair for you to repair, and if you want any money to buy material with, you can have it." "Thank you, very much," I said; "and I will attend to it." I told my wife when she came home all about it, and she was delighted. "I have heard of that lady," said she. "She is a very good woman, and visits the sick and relieves the poor, and takes an interest in every thing that is good." I called on the lady, the next day, and was received kindly. To help me in my business, she introduced me to her servants, who favored me with their orders, and gave as much work, as would take me a week to perform. I finished the work and gave general satisfaction. I was then persuaded to go to church and hear the singing, which was very grand. The incumbent was a good preacher, and used to attract the nobility from the west-end of London. I was sent for by the minister, who undertook to have me taught music, and for this purpose I was invited to attend practice, in order to meet the organist and try my voice. I did so, and was told it was somewhat a rough one, but that if I gave my mind to study, I would, in course of time, make a fair chorister. I attended practice twice a week for two years, and at church twice on Sundays. About this time the Rev. W. C. Bennett conceived the idea of building a poor man's church, as his own church being crowded with the rich, the poor were crowded out. When he announced his intention, Earl Brownlow gave the land, and a collection was made, the proceeds of which amounted to the large sum of £2,220, in the short space of a quarter of an hour. Money came from all parts, and £50,000 was subscribed in less than three months. I was engaged to carry a banner at the laying of the foundation stone; and when the ceremony was over there was a good dinner given to the poor, and I had the honor of singing at the feast. My business increased so much every week that I soon began to employ workmen, and at one time had fifty ladies of title on my books; also lords, earls, dukes, and duchesses. The Countess of Cardigan was one of my best customers, and the Duchess of Argyle was another. My ambition at last got so high that I asked a Lady of honour to the Queen to try to get for me Her Majesty's patronage. In this I, however, failed, and was told that the Queen never changed her trades people. I, however, succeeded in getting the work of the Duke of Wellington's household, the University Club, Army and Navy Club, Civil Service Club, and many others. So I continued to on prospering till the Poor Man's Church was finished. That was a great day, and the church was 6 opened with much pomp and ceremony on St. Barnabas's Day, the 11th of June. It was named St. Barnabas's Church from that circumstance. On that day, for the first time in my life, I was arrayed in a surplice, and introduced to the singers as a member of the choir of St. Barnabas, Plimlico; and I now felt not a little proud of myself. Besides the church, they built a parsonage for the clergyman, and a schoolhouse to accommodate 1,000 children, with sleeping rooms for twenty singing boys, who were supported out of the foundation fund, and who, besides being educated, were fed and clothed like young gentlemen. The whole of the buildings cost no less than £100,000 when finished. I found out that to be a chorister was no easy billet, as I had to attend daily service at 6 a.m. on Holy Days; there were three services a day, with communion and sermons on Sundays-early communion at 7 a.m., prayers at 8 a.m. for the poor, and breakfast at 9 a.m. All the singers (men and boys) sang "Non nobis Domini" both before and after. At it again at 11 a.m., litany, anthem, and sermon; after which came post-communion; then home to dinner. After which I came back again at 3 p.m. to baptism, followed by afternoon service. After tea came evening prayer, at 7 p.m., with anthem and sermon. After these engagements, I and the rest would adjourn to the parsonage with the clergy, and have cake, or tea, or coffee, and then we would sing the "Benedictus," and, lastly, return home to bed. This is the way I spent seven years of my life, most happy in my mind, and living in the fear of God, and endeavoring to bring up my family in the same happy way. But this happiness was doomed to have an untimely end. The newspapers declared war against Mr. Bennett, and accused him of preaching the doctrines of the Church of Rome, asserting that the service was more like an opera than the sacred worship of God. The Bishop sent for him, and accused him with unfaithfulness to the Church of England. The outside public were against Mr. Bennett, and riots frequently took place on Sundays. I was sworn in as a special constable to protect the church property, and I used to go into the choir with a policeman's staff under my surplice. Meetings were called by the parishioners, and votes of censure were passed against the Bishop. In this trouble the poor also had their say. I was elected chairman of the Poor Man's Committee, with power to raise subscriptions for Mr. Bennett. A meeting was called for the rich and poor of the, parish, and I had to make a speech, in preparation of which I had sat up till two o'clock in the morning. When it was my turn to speak, however, I was so flurried that I could not make out my notes; and I resolved on speaking extemporaneously, and had the satisfaction of winning a hearty round of applause. My speech was published in the Daily Chronicle of February 8th, 1857. The unfortunate result of all this dissension was that the Rev, W. C. Bennett had to resign his living, and went on the continent for the benefit of his health, which was very much broken down by mental anxiety. His admirers in their sympathy presented him with a purse of £7,000, and I and thousands of others, lost a good friend. I left the church, and transferred my singing to Westminster Abbey, and also sang sometimes at St. Paul's Cathedral. These events made me very unhappy; and, through reading the newspapers, I became interested about Australia. Whilst thinking of emigration I fell ill with fever; but during my illness told my wife my thoughts on the subject. She stoutly refused to join me, and said, "Thomas, you may go; but I shall do nothing of the kind." After considering the advantages my children would have in a new country, I made up my mind to go. As a first step, I called on a nobleman whom I worked for, Sir Frederick Rogers, the Emigration Commissioner, and told him that I would like to go to Australia. "How many children have you?" asked Sir Frederick. "Six, Sir Frederick," I replied. "Then you can't go, as you have one child too many. If you only had five I would give you your passage at once." I thanked him, and returned home very down hearted and dissappointed. When I got home, I told my wife the result, and she was as glad as, was sorry. Not long afterwards the new incumbent called on me, and offered an appointment as verger and chorister at St. Barnabas's, with a decent salary and perquisites; and I accepted the offer. I forthwith got measured for a black cassock and new surplice, and on the following Sunday I presented quite a grand appearance. But in spite of all this Australia kept running in my mind. Now, it happened that one of my children was taken ill, and I called in a doctor, who said the boy had water on the brain, and accordingly treated him for it. The child, however, got no better, and I got the services of a physician who said the boy had been wrongly treated, for, instead of water on the brain the boy had disease of the lungs. This doctor gave no hopes of his recovery, and the child died shortly afterwards. I grieved very much over the loss of my boy; but I was visited and condoled by many of my Friends. The clergy were very kind to me in my trouble, and even allowed the chorister boys to go a distance of three miles to Brompton Cemetery to attend the funeral. It was very impressive to see them dressed in their surplices, and hear them sing psalms at the grave, and also a short 7 anthem at the close of the service. All this was very consoling to me, as it showed how much I was respected, and how deeply and truly they all sympathised with me. But in spite of all their love I was not happy; Australia still ran in my head. Mr. Bennett returned to England improved in health, and was offered a living as vicar of Frome, not far from Bath. It was in the gift of the Marchioness of Bath and Wells, and was worth £700 a-year, which Mr. Bennett accepted. Things went on at St. Barnabas as before. Private confessions to the clergy, baptismal regeneration, penance, fasting, keeping Saint days, and the real Presence in the Sacrament was the style of the teaching which was held and believed in by the congregation. "What has all this to do with Cockney Tom?" some people may ask. At any rate I could descry enough to see that there was more behind the scenes between the Bishop and Mr. Bennett than I had brains to understand. I gave notice to leave the church. I called on Sir Frederick Rogers and told him that having lost one of my children I was then within the limit. He told me to make ready as soon as I could, and let him know, and he would get my order made out so as to sail by the next ship. I undertook no more work. I sold off my household goods, collected my debts, paid all I owed, and took lodgings in Salisbury Court, Fleet Street. I received orders to be ready to go on board at Southampton on a certain day. When my wife saw the order she nearly fainted, and had a sleepless night, but I comforted her all I could, and bought her a new silk dress. I was busy every day preparing for the voyage, and took leave of my brothers and sister Sarah, my original dry nurse. Many tears were wont to wet our cheeks as the subject of my departure was discussed. I resolved to visit Frome before I left England. Accordingly I called on one of the church wardens, a friend of mine, and told him I would like to see Mr. Bennett before I left. He said "I will go with you, I want a trip out of town," so we fixed the time to start, and brought a perfect model of St Barnabas Church, made by one of our members (a very clever architect). We paid him three pounds for it, and it was well worth ten. So off we started by the morning train for Frome, and arrived at five in the evening. The vicar received us with all love and kindness. We dined with him and his family, and after dinner the presentation took place. He was delighted. I was given over to the parish clerk to find my lodgings. This clerk, who was born and bred in Frome, and had been parish clerk for twenty years, was, as they would say in America, a most "curious cuss." Nothing would suit the clerk, but he must take me to his "pub," where the choristers and himself used to booze. The ale was very good, and in fact the town had quite got its name up for its ale. But sad to say the clerk got drunk, and in the exuberance of his feelings would sing, thinking no doubt that he would astonish me. This, however, he failed to do. After much persuasion they got me to sing on Sunday at the church. I rose early on Saturday and visited the old church (where good Bishop Kenn was buried), and also the market, and the river which runs through the town. After breakfast and morning prayer at the church I visited the schools, and the hospital for the aged poor. In the evening I went up to their service, which was read by my friend, the clerk; then to bed. Up early on Sunday morning, a long walk, back to refresh, and get ready for church. Sang Jackson's "Te Deum" and "Jubilate," and was complimented by Mr. Bennett and the choir; arranged for the start back the next morning. Breakfasted early, received from Mr B. a present of a book to remind me of my visit to Frome, and lastly received his prayer and benediction. I got back safely, and found my wife willing to share my fate and to emigrate to Australia. When every thing was ready I received a letter from the Countess of Cardigan, full of good wishes for me and my family, and a cheque for £5 which I did not refuse. I and my family started from London to Southampton, where we arrived the same night, and stopped at the depot. Very little sleep. After breakfast took a walk over the old town of Southampton-nothing much to astonish a Londoner. Went on board to report myself and family to the doctor, and to learn when we were to be examined. On answering to my name on the roll being called, the doctor said humorously, "Are! you the person whom Sir Frederick Rogers wrote to me about?" I replied that I certainly had the honor of knowing Sir Frederick, but I knew nothing about any letter. "I will not forget you," said he, very kindly. "Tomorrow you will be examined, and will sail on Sunday morning." Next day I passed the examination, and was sent on board. I and my family got our berths allotted and our luggage stowed away, then the bell rang for the muster, and as the names were called out they had to pass from one side of the ship to the other. When my name was called out by the doctor, he bid me come forward, and calling the attention of the passengers, said that he had the right to appoint all constables, for the proper carrying out of the ship's regulations, and the general good order of the passengers, and it was his pleasure to appoint the said Cockney Tom first constable of the vessel 8 "William Stuart." We were all very jolly on board the ship on Saturday night, some singing, "I'm afloat, I'm afloat," others, "a life on the ocean wave, a home on the rolling deep." I felt rather dull. In the performance of my duty I had to walk the decks till all the single women were locked up for the night, and to protect them against all intruders, which I afterwards found to be so difficult a. task, as to be almost more than I could manage. The tug came alongside next morning and took us on our way, not rejoicing, but feeling rather "dicky" as we got out to sea. Sea-sickness is a general complaint, and caused the passengers to turn up their noses even at the sight of a roast beef and plum pudding dinner. Singular to say, but nevertheless quite true, nobody found fault with the food for the first week, but after that, when the appetite returned, there was a great deal of grumpling at finding the supplies insufficient to satisfy their ravenous hunger although there were many on board who had never lived so well in their lives before. Some of them got as fat as pigs, others ate very little, on account of being almost always sick. I was one of the latter. A few days sailing brought the ship into the Bay of Biscay. It was a grand thing for bilious people, for it was as good as physic to most. At length we got out of the "troubled waters," and arrived at Maderia, and could see the land and houses looking very beautiful. The weather was fine, and dancing and concerts of an evening, and fishing in the day time, made all very comfortable. Crossed the line; weather very hot. Could not sleep below, so laid on deck, crowded together like sardines in a box. After being becalmed nearly a week we got a start with the trade winds, and bore away down south into the cold regions. Now I will tell you something that happened to my wife. It was then very stormy weather, and the sea ran mountains high, when she was confined and gave birth to a son, which they partially named after the ship, Stuart; the name of my brother Philip, being placed first. A great rejoicing took place on board, and all the sailors got extra grog. I was appointed nurse, and had no objection to the billet at night, except the difficulty of carrying in the dark the necessaries required in such cases. For instance, when the ship was rolling heavily my foot slipped and I fell down and nearly my arm, at which mishap the sailors indulged in a hearty laugh. One night when I was doing duty as nurse, a knock came to the hospital door. "Who's there," cried Tom. "It is Jones, Mr. Constable," said the visitor, "there is a smell of fire in the ship." I was out in a jiffey, and soon discovered that the second mate's cabin was on fire. We bust the door open, and there he was fast asleep, and part of his clothes burning. There was a cask of rum in his cabin and other spirits. We roused him out, got help, and soon put the fire out. Had the wind blown in the opposite direction the ship would have been burned to the water's edge, and every soul have gone to "Davy Jones' locker," How thankful I felt for this delivery of all from the very jaws or death. Soon after this I got into a little trouble. I had warned the sailors to keep away from the single women, and threatened to complain to the doctor. The sailors discussed the subject, and one of them was sent to inform me to look out, or I would never reach Adelaide alive, but would be sent to feed the fishes instead, which I did not believe in. The voyage, however, was nearly at an end, and I kept my eyes open; thought much, but said nothing, At length we anchored off the Semaphore after a voyage of seventy-eight days, ill nearly all the time. Next morning I went on shore, having arranged with my wife that I would go up to Adelaide in search of a house and work. In closing the first part of my narrative, I feel constrained to record my sense of the Providence of God that had preserved me amid so many vicissitudes and privations, and although it has been said it is good to bear the yolk in our youth, I cannot help thinking that had my earlier history been spent under the advantages of good education I might have developed a much better character and nobler career. The young, especially, should learn to value the privileges and seize the opportunities for good which in these days are so freely offered to them, but which were very sparingly bestowed in my time. I, however, do not repine, but refer the kind reader to the more hopeful passages, and altogether brighter aspects which marked my later history, and which will appear in the second and third parts of this autobiography. PART II. I was rather surprised to find Adelaide such a miserable looking place; but that was in 1853. It is very different now. I failed at first in getting work, and found that house rent was high and food dear. I thought I would dine at a pub, for there were no restaurants were one could get a good "feed" for one shilling in those days. I had to pay 2s. 6d. for my meal, which rather astonished my weak nerves. Almost in despair I took up the daily paper, and saw the following advertisement, 'Wanted a conductor for the Star Concert Hall.' "I think I understand that business," said I to myself, so I called to see what it was like. The landlord told me I might 9 come that night, and let him hear what sort of a singer I was. I next waited on the Dean, and presented a letter to him from the Bishop's brother in England to Bishop Short of Adelaide. The Dean read the letter and told me it was simply asking him to find employment for me, and that I might call on him again, as the Bishop had gone to England, and he would see what could be done for me and my family; but he never asked me to sit down, or whether I wanted any assistance, although he was told that I had a wife and six children on board the ship "William Stuart." I left the Dean with a broken spirit, for I had expected to have been received kindly by the clergy of the church that I had endeavoured to serve with all sincerity in the old country. As night came on I found my way into a shoemaker's shop, and asking for employment I was told that there was scarcely any work to be done, as nearly all the men were at the diggings in Victoria, and that Adelaide was like a deserted village. The shoemaker kindly advanced me five shillings, and told me to repay it when I got work. I did so, and afterwards the same man became bankrupt, and was so reduced in circumstances that he had to go to the Destitute Asylum, where he died; but I never forgot the old shoemaker and his five shillings. My first song was sung at the Concert Hall. It was a long room, and would hold about 100 people. A big chair at the end for the conductor, who, with piano and violin players, made up the company of artists engaged; amateurs did the rest. When I entered the room I found it full of smoke, and lots of drink going on; and the landlord was acting as chairman. He possessed a fine baritone voice, and sang several of Russell's songs in good style; and, subsequently, played the flute and comet with good taste, which told me that I had no bad judge to sing to. After a time the chairman rose and said, "Gentlemen, we have here to-night a gentleman from London, who will oblige us with a little harmony." Cries of "Bravo!" came from all sides of the room. I went up to the piano, and asked the player if he knew such airs; but to which he replied in broken English that he had never heard them. He was a German, and a very bad accompanist; so I sang without music one of my favorite songs, "Give me a Cot in the Valley I Love," and as I sang I thought of my dear wife on board, and broke down. I Sat down and felt thoroughly ashamed of myself. I had nothing to drink, and altogether felt quite ill. Presently a gold digger came in and sat down by my side. "What are you drinking?" he asked. "I am not drinking at all," said I. "Then I'm going to shout," he replied. "Have a glass of hot brandy with me; it will set you all right." I consented, and the digger narrated some strange stories about the diggings. I was listening at the same time to some comic songs that seemed to please the company better than the sentimental ones. A very good violinist then showed up, and I called to him to have a chat with me. I told him that I was also a professional, and asked him to accompany me in a comic song, "With pleasure," said he. "Do you know the first figure in the Irish Quadrilles?" "Yes," said he. "Can you play in the key of D?" "Yes," said he. "All right." I replied, and began to feel quite a new man. The brandy began to operate, and when I felt its stimulating effects, I rose to my feet. The chairman called to order, and I said, "Mr. Conductor and gentlemen I find that I made a great mistake in my first effort, and if you will give me another trial I will endeavor to make amends, and will sing you a song of my own composing." "All attention!" said the conductor. The fiddler and the pianist played an introduction, and I commenced to sing, and the company began to laugh. Every one was delighted, and I had to sing it over three times. The landlord then sent for me and said. "What will you take to drink? Come and take the chair, and consider yourself engaged. You shall stay here to-night, and breakfast with me in the morning, and then we will settle about salary and other matters." I went to bed that night in better Spirits than I had expected, and the next morning, being Sunday, I prepared for church, to return thanks to my maker for my safe voyage. I had dinner with my new master, and agreed to sing every night, Sundays excepted, for three months at one pound ten shillings per week, with board and lodging. I signed an agreement to that effect, and was sorry afterwards that I had done so. The next day I went to the Port to see if the ship was in, and was informed that she would not be in for some time, on account of low tide. I was very much disappointed at this, especially as it cost me twenty shillings to be taken from the shore to the ship and back again, which I could ill afford. I returned to town, and wrote a letter to my wife, telling her all the news, and promising to be at the Port when the ship came into harbor. After this I took my nightly seat as conductor, and the place was always crowded. I now began to feel myself at home again, and I made all sorts of acquaintances, some of whom I did not care for, I was next offered an engagement at a concert room, at salary of £l per night, which, owing to my engagement, I was obliged to refuse. I next took a house, not far from the hall, at a rent of 25s. per week, so as to have a home to take my wife and children to when they got on shore. I brought some furniture, a load of wood, and such other things that were 10 [...]... dance at all, and others who attempted and failed The most amusing part was the women laying their heads together and taking stock of each other's dresses; and the vanity they displayed-some with gold rings on every finger, others with necklaces composed of nuggets of gold, with holes pierced through them, and strung together on a piece of narrow ribbon, the same with their bracelets, and their dresses... behind him in the chase As they neared the Botonie Gardens they lost sight of Baldiston for a short time, but a boy having given information that he had seen a man get over the railing into the stableyards of Sir Henry Ayers, the detective, and thee mob that had gathered, besieged the yard and stable Doyle got into the hayloft, turned over the hay, and found the wretched man rolled like a dog The detective... charge of the baths, and I flattered myself that I would make my fortune out of the speculation; but at the end of the year I found myself on the wrong side of the ledger I then had to turn my attention once more to professional pursuits, and accordingly I engaged to serve Mr George Coppin as money-taker at the Town Hall and Theatre Royal; and I was also engaged with the South Australian Jockey Club in the. .. full confession of what he had done and left undone Amongst the latter was a design to blow up the City Baths He stated in his letter that he intended getting on to the roof of the baths and dropping down the chimneys sundry bags of gunpowder, so that when the strings got burnt the bags of powder would fall, and a general 33 blow-up of the whole place would have been the happy result The Rev Wilton... down to the Port to see us off The captain was a friend of mine, and had been the chief mate of the "William Stuart" that brought me out from England, so we wanted for nothing during the trip round, which was a very pleasant one We arrived safely in Melbourne on a Saturday night at dark There was a great rush to the wharf by the sailors, as they wanted to get rid of their cargo, and I nearly lost the best... in the unfinished cathedral The funeral was the largest ever known in Adelaide, and was attended by all classes and denominations Afterwards, when the cathedral was partially finished and opened, I was requested to join the choir, and consenting, was appointed receiver of all moneys taken at the doors by the collectors; which money I had to pay into the bank every Monday to the credit of the Cathedral... from the proprietor, Mr Geo White, on behalf of Madame The bank authorities allowed me the privilege of taking the engagement of White's Rooms so long as I did not neglect my duty at the bank, and by such engagements I was brought into the society of all the leading artists who visited Adelaide Perhaps it would not be out of place to mention some of their names, viz., Madame Caley, fellow pupil of Jenny... his mother since I also sang some comic songs, which, by the aid of a little grog, made them all merry My new friends were very strict Ronan Catholics, and they persuaded me to attend the Cathedral with them to hear the grand music and their imposing ceremonies, which at once put me in mind of St Barnabas's They afterwards introduced me to their priest, who was greatly affected with my account of St... killed The digger was arrested, and the man was taken into a small tent, where the camp doctor mesmerised him, and got him round, and then sent him to the camp to be taken of, and the next day the digger was fined £15 for assault The ball was kept up til 5 o'clock in the morning, and then, by way of a change, they indulged in skittles and champague, and how they got to their homes is a mystery We found... friends, Mr Sweetwilliam, who was then Mayor of Adelaide, and Mr Johns, who was then a large tradesman, and who since then has been a corporation councillor, and a member of Parliament A meeting was called at which the Mayor took the chair, and Turkish baths were decided on The first thing to be then done was to get the opinion of the medical faculty, and a promise of their support, and I undertook that . and multiplied the earth to the extent of ten children, I being the wind-up of the lot, which consisted of nine boys and one girl. Now began some of the stirring and painful events of my wonderful. appreciated much to the satisfaction of myself and Fiddler Jim. We stopped there that night, but there was no sleep as they all got drunk. Champagne was the order, not of the day, but of the night, and. Sober Man, and Write this Autobiography Dates and Particulars * * * * * LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS [These are shown at the end of the ebook] * * * * * 2 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF "COCKNEY TOM" PART