CLOUDS AND SUNSHINE. 91 At this town we were directed to a master millwright who wanted hands; but we found that he had only a prospect of obtaining a new mill to build as soon as the days were a little longer. I told him how we had been treated in London, that our funds were exhausted, and that we should be glad of even two or three days' work. He appeared interested in our story, said we were two nice young men, and offered us half-a-crown to help us on our way. At this kind offer my pride took alarm, and though we were without money, and almost fainting for want of food, very much to the annoyance of Hogg, who pressed hard in whispers for me to take it, I peremptorily refused the half-crown, and whilst passing through the churchyard, Hogg seated himself on a wet tombstone, burst into tears, and obstinately refused to move an inch further. I used every endeavour to pacify him, but the only reply was a cutting remonstrance at my having refused to accept the money. I sat down beside him, and the weather having in some degree cleared up, the sun burst from under a dark cloud, and seizing the occasion, I remarked that we were perfectly safe, as the beams of the setting sun thus bursting upon us were a sure omen of our ultimate success. We moved on at a slow pace towards the outskirts of the town, and had not proceeded far, when arriving at a wheelwright's shop I stopped to enquire if he knew of any place where we could obtain employment. The master entered freely into conversation, and after some further enquiries he recommended us to make the best of our way to Cheshunt, about ten miles off, where a person from Chelmsford was building a windmill, and was, he believed, in want of hands. With renewed hopes we moved on at a rapid pace, almost ankle-deep in melted snow, till we reached Cheshunt, nearly exhausted with hunger and fatigue. We took up our quarters at a little public-house, and on the faith of more encouragement for the morning, I had promised my friend that he should have an excellent supper, whether it was paid for or not. Accordingly, as soon as we were seated, the landlady, a goodtempered middle-aged woman, laid before us the remains of a cold leg of mutton, a large loaf, and a quart of ale. Nearly the whole disappeared to the bare bone before she returned from some domestic duties she had to attend to in another part of the house; when, casting her eyes on the table, she exclaimed, in a good-natured tone, Bless your hearts, but you must have been hungry.' We smiled in the affirmative, on which she handed out the cheese, with which we finished our repast, and then retired to rest. Early next morning we presented ourselves at the mill, and to our great joy procured employment for a fortnight. During that time we remained inmates with our kind friend, the landlady of the Black Bull. Our engagement being temporary, we received our wages at the expiration of the time, and with nearly three pounds in our pockets, were again on the road. We parted reluctantly from our kind friend at the Black Bull, and directing our steps towards London, we had time to consult as to our next movements, when, after some deliberation, we concluded to try London once more, and if unsuccessful there, to proceed forwards to Portsmouth, where we proposed to embark on board some ship, and work our passage to America. Our second entry into the metropolis was, however, more fortunate than the first; as my friend David met an old shopmate and schoolfellow from Coldstream, who ridiculed our ignorance of the trade and the ways of the town. He told us he had been only eighteen months in London, had only served three years to the business, had good employment at seven shillings a day, and made from nine to ten days in the week. Moreover, he was secretary to the Independent Millwrights' Society, 'a society,' as he stated, founded on liberal principles, and greatly superior to the vagabonds at Little Eastcheap.' From this man, whose name was Dewer, we learned that there were three Societies in London, viz., the old Society, the one at which we had been rejected; next, the new Society, and lastly, the Independent Society, who were less stringent in their rules than the other two. All of them, however, took cognizance of the hours of labour, which at that time were from light to dark in winter, and from six to six in summer, with two hours for refreshment. They also regulated the rate of wages, and no man was allowed to work for less than seven shillings a day, and as soon as he entered the Society he was bound by the rules to maintain the rights and privileges of the trade in their full integrity. This system of dictation and ex clusiveness was kept up in London for the whole of the last and part of the present century by a body of men, most of whom had never served any time to their business, and whose moral character was far from exemplary. The natural result of such a combination was to create disgust in the minds of their employers, and to raise a powerful opposition amongst a class equally meritorious as workmen, and infinitely superior in moral worth. From their excesses, and from the unwarrantable demands made by the Societies on the employers and the employed, the clubs in London may date the decline of their power, and the almost ultimate extinction of the name of millwright as a distinct profession. Previously to that time it was held in great respect in almost every part of the United Kingdom. The members were generally men of talent, and ranked amongst them the celebrated names of Brindley, Smeaton, and Rennie. To return, Dewer moved our admission as members of the Independent Society. This was accordingly done, and two days afterwards we were enrolled as members. Having been thus legalised, we shortly afterwards got employment at a Patent Ropery belonging to a Mr. Grundy at Shadwell, where both Hogg and I continued till the completion of the works, about eighteen months after we commenced. At the close of Mr. Grundy's work, I went for a few weeks to Wandsworth, and then to Mr. Penn, of Greenwich, where I continued till the spring of 1813, when business became slack, and I left the great metropolis in search of information and employment in another quarter. I cannot pass over two years of the most important period of my life without referring to the pleasures and advantages which I derived from my residence in London. During the greater portion of the time I had constant employment, and an income which varied from two to three pounds a week. I lived moderately, renewed my reading and studies, and subscribed to a library in Ratcliffe Highway, where I had a moderately good choice of books. I further got acquainted with some friends at the West End, attended the theatres once or twice a week, visited the Westminster Forum, and heard Major Cartwright and Gale Jones declaim. In a word my hat covered my family, and I had never before been so happy or so independent. During the whole of my residence in London I seldom missed dining on the Sundays with my relatives in St. Martin's Lane. They had a small shop in front, and a workshop behind. The first floor was the family residence, and a clergyman of the name of Hall occupied the chambers above. Mr. Hall was a regular Sunday guest at Mrs. Stewart's table, as well as myself; he was a great projector, had taken out a patent for making hemp from beanstalks, and was a writer in Tilloch's Philosophical Magazine,' and in several other periodicals of the day. He was a native of Perth, eccentric in his manners, somewhat loose in his religious principles, but a powerful reasoner, and intimately acquainted with most of the literary and scientific men of the day. Through Mr. Hall I was introduced to the Society of Arts, to Mr. Tilloch, and to several distinguished persons, and the advantages which I derived from this connection were greater than I could have expected, considering the position in which I was placed as a common workman. |