The mixed family, as we have already seen, did not live in harmony.
Mrs. Thompson, it has been said, was rarely without a black eye, and shrieking and swearing were not uncommonly heard proceeding from the house. Yet Peace gave himself the reputation of a humane and moral man with a character to maintain, who must not be familiarly accosted by milkmen, greengrocers, and other people who resorted to public-house bars in the morning.
Peace was very rarely seen till late in the day. People in the vicinity who gave the matter any consideration supposed he was busy with his scientific pursuits, of which he was fond of talking in an effusive manner.
He occasionally invited his neighbours into his house to take something, and by all accounts he was a jovial host.
He was possessed of seven or eight guitars, and almost as many violins. When he came outside the gate in the afternoon and took a look at the weather he was communicative and critical to whoever was passing that knew him, and he especially delighted in a chat about crime and criminals with the unsuspicious policeman of his district.
In conversation he had an odd habit of digging his hands deep into his pockets and twisting himself round in the pantomimic contortions of a clown. Social visits he never paid, and he did not encourage unexpected visits to his house.
At Peckham he formed a menagerie of pets, which was certainly extraordinary for so unpretentious an establishment; but being “a gentleman devoted to science” his neighbours thought he might be allowed to indulge a hobby for zoology.
That he should be fond of animals is strange, seeing the traits of his character have been disclosed, which indicate that he was cruel and selfish to the last degree.
Some of his pets he had learned to execute tricks wonderful enough to earn a showman his living. His pony especially showed marvellous obedience to his command.
At a word this faithful animal would rear up and remain standing on his hind legs, and at another word he would lie down as if dead.