I was born near Waltham, in Hampshire, but I have lived ever since I was about fifteen years of age at Portsea, and every one that knows me knew no harm of me; and the masters that I have lived with sent me a character for me to give to the Jury, but the Jury never saw the character.
I married a girl that I loved, and she had a little property, and I continued working till I could get nothing to do, and I went into business, and it turned out very unfortunately, and I lost a great deal of money, not through drinking and gambling, for I never went to a public-house in my life but to smoke my pipe, or for the sake of company. I can assure your most gracious Majesty, that I never was tipsey but three times in my life, and that was not through the love of liquor.
The times being so very bad at Portsea, and I had nothing to do, me and my wife made up our minds to come to London: me and my family left Portsea the beginning of May 1819. I thought when I came to town I should get a situation, but to my sad disappointment I soon found all my hopes was blasted. I tried every means I was master of to get employ for the support my family: I did not know how to act, for it was not my intention when I came to town to enter into business, I had a little money by me, for me and my wife mortgaged her property—a house I mean—to the full value of it, if it was to be sold now.
I went and took a butcher’s shop in Baker’s-row, Whitechapel-road, and I carried on business from Midsummer to Michaelmas. When I came to look over my little stock of money, I found it was very much reduced, and the summer being so very hot, was very much against me; and after I had paid my rent, and a few little bills beside, my money was nearly all gone.
I left Baker’s-row at Michaelmas, and I took a house in Old Montague-street, Brick-lane, and I fitted it up for a coffee-house, and then my money was gone. It did not turn out to my expectation, for I did not take money enough, if it had been all profit, to keep my family. I persuaded my wife to return to Portsea with the children: the reason was, I thought she had better be among her friends without money than in London.
I remained in the house a short time after my wife had left me: there was a man used to come frequently and take a cup of coffee, and he used to enter into conversation about the Manchester massacre, and Government, &c. I did not make but very little reply, for I took him to be some officer.
After I had left my house, I met him in Smithfield-market; he said I have caught you out, I shall make you stand treat. I am sorry it is not in my power, for I am very short at present; if I do not get some work very shortly, I must sell my few things. What have you to sell? A sofa-bedstead—it is the best piece of furniture I have. I should like to see it; if I like it I will buy it, and give you as much as any person will. I took him to my lodging, No. 20, Primrose-street, Bishopsgate, and shewed him my sofa, but it did not suit him, and he took me to a friend of his, a broker, to buy my sofa, but it did not suit him, and we parted early in January.
I met him in Fleet-market, and he asked me how I did? I told him I was very low in spirits: come, he says, have a glass of gin—that will rise your spirits. No, I thank you, I never drink so soon in the morning. We walked up Fleet-street, and we went and bought the very sword that was produced in the Court, and I took it to the cutler’s, and I left my name.
If I had known at that time what was going to be done, I am sure I should not have left my name. He took me to the White Hart, and gave me beef-steaks, &c. for my dinner, and I thought he was the best friend I had, for he used to give me victuals and drink when I was very short; and this was Edwards that introduced me to the party, which I never should have known if it had not been for him.