“The foolish fondness of an indulgent mother, and some want of firmness in paternal discipline, accelerated the growth of every weed of infamy in Nicholas, and baffled every experiment, by sea and land, to ‘set’ him up in life.
“Scarcely was he out of his teens, when he honoured the sister country with his visits and his depredations. About the centre of Sackville-street, Dublin, there lived a wealthy silversmith of the name of Wise. Into his shop (accompanied by one of his pals in livery) went Nicholas, whose gentlemanly exterior, as I have already hinted, would disarm suspicion in a stranger.
“‘Good morning sir, is your name Wise?—Yes, sir.—Well, that is my name.—Indeed, of the English family, I suppose?—Yes, sir, East Kent.—Oh, indeed! related to the ladies of Leeds Castle, I presume?—I have the honour to be their brother.—James, is your name James or John?—Neither, sir, it is Jacob.—Oh, indeed! a very ancient name.—Well, I have occasion to give a party at the Corn Exchange Tavern, and I want a little plate on hire, can you supply me?’—A very polite affirmative settled this part of the business. Plate to the amount of 150l. was selected and arranged, when Nicholas discovered that his pocket-book was at home (to complete the deception, his right arm was in a sling). ‘Will you, Mr. Wise (you see my infirmity), write me a few lines?—With the greatest pleasure,’ was the silversmith’s reply.—‘Well, let me see. “My dear, do not be surprised at this; I want 150l., or all the money you can send, per bearer; I will explain at dinner-time.
J. Wise.”
“‘Now, John, take this to your mistress, and be quick.’ As John was not very hasty in his return, Nicholas went to look for him, leaving a strict injunction that the plate should be sent to the Corn Exchange Tavern, as soon as the deposit was received. This happened at eleven in the forenoon—the clock struck five and no return of either the master or the man.
“The jeweller left a message with his apprentice, and went home to his dinner. He was met at the door of his suburban villa by his ‘better half,’ who wondered what made him so late, and wished to know the nature of the exigency which had caused him to send home for so much money? The good man’s perplexity was at an end when he saw his own handwriting on the note; and every means within the range of constabulary vigilance was taken to capture the offender, but Nicholas and his servant got clear off.
“This man’s ingenuity was then taxed as to the next move, so he thought it expedient to tax somebody else. He went with his ‘pal’ to a miscellaneous repository, where they bought a couple of old ledgers—useful only as waste paper, a bag to hold money, two ink-bottles, &c. Thus equipped, they waited on the farmers of the district, and exhibited a ‘fakement,’ setting forth parliamentary authority for imposing a tax upon the geese! They succeeded to admiration, and weeks elapsed before the hoax was discovered. The coolness of thus assuming legislatorial functions, and being, at the same time, the executive power, has rarely been equalled.
“There is an old proverb, that ‘It is an ill wind that blows nobody good.’ The gallant ‘captain’ was domiciled at a lodging-house in Gainsborough, Lincolnshire, where he found all the lodgers complaining of the badness of the times—most of them were makers of nets. He sallied forth to all the general shops, and left his (fictitious) ‘captain’ card at each, with an order for an unusual number of nets. This ‘dodge’ gave a week’s work to at least twenty poor people; but whether the shopkeepers were ‘caught in a net,’ or the articles were paid for and removed by the ‘captain,’ or whether it was a piece of pastime on his part, I did not stay long enough to ascertain.
“Nicholas A—— is now in his sixty-second year, a perfect hypochondriac. On his own authority—and it is, no doubt, too true—he has been ‘lurking’ on every conceivable system, from forging a bill of exchange down to ‘maundering on the fly,’ for the greater part of his life; and, excepting the ‘hundred and thirteen times’ he has been in provincial jails, society has endured the scourge of his deceptions for a quarter of a century at least. He now lives with a young prostitute in Portsmouth, and contributes to her wretched earnings an allowance of 5s. a week, paid to him by the attorney of a distant and disgusted relative.”
The writer of this account was himself two whole years on the “monkry,” before he saw a lodging-house for tramps; and the first he ever saw was one well-known to every patterer in Christendom, and whose fame he says is “gone out into all lands,” for its wayfaring inmates are very proud of its popularity.