The juggler from whom I received the following account, was spoken of by his companions and friends as “one of the cleverest that ever came out.” He was at this time performing in the evening at one of the chief saloons on the other side of the water.
He certainly appears to have been successful enough when he first appeared in the streets, and the way in which he squandered the amount of money he then made is a constant source of misery to him, for he kept exclaiming in the midst of his narrative, “Ah! I might have been a gentleman now, if I hadn’t been the fool I was then.”
As a proof of his talents and success he assured me, that when Ramo Samee first came out, he not only learned how to do all the Indian’s tricks, but also did them so dexterously, that when travelling “Samee has often paid him ten shillings not to perform in the same town with him.”
He was a short man, with iron-grey hair, which had been shaved high upon the temples to allow him to assume the Indian costume. The skin of the face was curiously loose, and formed deep lines about the chin, whilst in the cheeks there were dimples, or rather hollows, almost as deep as those on a sofa cushion. He had a singular look, from his eyebrows and eyes being so black.
His hands were small and delicate, and when he took up anything, he did it as if he were lifting the cup with the ball under it.
“I’m a juggler,” he said, “but I don’t know if that’s the right term, for some people call conjurers jugglers; but it’s wrong. When I was in Ireland they called me a “manulist,” and it was a gentleman wrote the bill out for me. The difference I makes between conjuring and juggling is, one’s deceiving to the eye and the other’s pleasing to the eye—yes, that’s it—it’s dexterity.
“I dare say I’ve been at juggling 40 years, for I was between 14 and 15 when I begun, and I’m 56 now. I remember Ramo Samee and all the first process of the art. He was the first as ever I knew, and very good indeed; there was no other to oppose him, and he must have been good then. I suppose I’m the oldest juggler alive.
“My father was a whitesmith, and kept a shop in the Waterloo-road, and I ran away from him. There was a man of the name of Humphreys kept a riding-school in the Waterloo-road (there was very few houses there then, only brick-fields—aye, what is the Victoria theatre now was then a pin-factory and a hatter’s; it wasn’t opened for performance then), and I used to go to this riding-school and practise tumbling when the horse-dung was thrown out, for I was very ambitious to be a tumbler. When I used to go on this here dung-heap, sometimes father would want me to blow the fire or strike for him, and he’d come after me and catch me tumbling, and take off his apron and wallop me with it all the way home; and the leather strings used to hurt, I can tell you.
“I first went to work at the pin-factory, where the Coburg’s built now, and dropped tumbling then. Then I went to a hatter’s in Oakley-street, and there I took to tumbling again, and used to get practising on the wool-packs (they made the hats then out of wool stuff and hare-skins, and such-like, and you couldn’t get a hat then under 25s.); I couldn’t get my heart away from tumbling all the time I was there, for it was set on it. I’d even begin tumbling when I went out on errands, doing hand-spring, and starts-up (that’s laying on your back and throwing yourself up), and round-alls (that’s throwing yourself backwards on to your hands and back again to your feet), and walking on my hands. I never let any of the men see me practise. I had to sweep the warehouse up, and all the wool was there, and I used to have a go to myself in the morning before they was up.
“The way I got into my professional career was this: I used to have to go and get the men’s beer, for I was kept for that. You see, I had to go to the men’s homes to fetch their breakfasts, and the dinners and teas—I wish I had such a place now. The men gave me a shilling a-week, and there was twelve of them when in full work, and the master gave me 4s. 6d. Besides that they never worked on a Monday, but I was told to fetch their food just the same, so that their wives mightn’t know; and I had all their twelve dinners, breakfasts, and so on. I kept about six of the boys there, and anybody might have the victuals that liked, for I’ve sometimes put ’em on a post for somebody to find.