by Thomas Hardy
“How to Prevent Drunkenness—A Problem”
Reading III
“On the Abolition of Malt Liquor in Public Offices”
For a good deep draught of the bright pale ale
I would give coppers three;
But yearn as I may ‘tis of no avail,
Cos of ale there is none for me.
How well I remember the good times of old,
And the laughs, and the jokes, and good cheer;
But alas! now in Gath do not let it be told
They forbid us o drink any beer.
Of wine, I opine, we may all take a dose,
But wine is uncommonly dear,
So water’s the beverage now, I suppose,
As they won’t let us drink any beer.
I now in the service have been a long time,
Like foliage in Autumn, am sear,
And ne’er thought that I was committing a crime
When imbibing a drop of good beer.
Now, up, brave officials, assert your own right,
Be plucky, and throw aside fear;
Impertinence now has attained its full height —
Is man to be robbed of his beer?
Reading IV
Hungry Johnny
Not many winters ago there lived in a large city a little boy, whom we shall call Johnny. His father was dead, and his mother, a very wicked woman, occupied a cellar in one of the lanes or alleys of the city. As she was frequently intoxicated, what little she could earn when sober was spent for liquor, instead o fbuying food and clothes for her little boy. So poor Johnny often went to bed cold and hungry. Very often, too, he might be seen going across the street to a public-house, with a dirty tin cup and a penny, which he had begged to buy rum for his mother.
About the time our story begins, Johnny’s mother had found some work to do, for which she had been paid partly in money and partly in bread. But the money was spent as before, and the crust that remained had made Johnny meals for two days.
Late on Sunday afternoon Johnny’s mother awoke from her drunken stupor, and knew that her liquor was all gone: so calling her little boy, she said—
“Johnny, you must go and beg a penny to buy some whisky with.”
“But,” said Johnny, “I cannot go—it is very cold; and what shall I tell them I want the penny for when they ask me?”
“Tell them you want to buy bread,” said his mother.
Johnny began to cry. “Mother,” said he, “I have no coat, no stockings, and my shoes are all worn out: I shall freeze to death.”
This fanned the last spark of a mother’s love in the drunken woman’s heart, and she said —
“Well, Johnny, go, and get Charley to go with you.”
Charley was a boy four or five years older, and lived a little further up the alley.
So off the poor little fellow started in the cold, and, finding Charley at home, he said —
“Charley, my mother wants me to go and beg a penny to buy liquor with. Will you go with me?”
“Why, no, Johnny,” exclaimed Charley; “you will freeze to death—it is so cold!”
“But I must go,” said Johnny; “and if you will not go with me, I must go alone,” and he began to cry again as though his heart would break.
“Well, I will go with you, Johnny,” said Charley, at last.
Then they went up a street to a large church where they had been before. They went in and sat down near the wall. Here they quietly waited for the service to close, when they should have an opportunity to beg. Very soon Johnny heard the preacher say, “God loves the truthful!” and he began to think, “I am not truthful; I have told a great many lies; I am very wicked.”
Again the minister said, “God loves the truthful, but hates all lying!” Turning around, Johnny said, “Charley, I am very wicked. I’ve lied a great deal, and God does not love me. Nobody loves me, not even my mother!”
But Charley replied, “Yes, Johnny, somebody loves you; I love you!”
“Charley, I’ll try never to tell another lie as long as I live,” said Johnny.
Presently the sermon was ended, and the people began to pass out, when little Johnny stepped up to a gentleman and said —
“Please give me a penny, sir?”
“What do you want a with a penny?” he asked.
“I will not tell a lie!” said Johnny to himself, and then answered, “My mother wants itto buy whiskey with.”
The gentleman passed on with a stare of surprise, and did not give the money.
Another came up, and Johnny held out his hand and asked.
“Will you give me a penny, sir?”
“And why a penny?” inquired the gentleman.
“God loves the truthful,” thought Johnny, “and I will not be a liar! My mother wants it to buy whiskey with,” he replied.
The gentleman stopped and looked Johnny full in the face.
“What’s your name, my boy, and where to you live?” he asked. So Johnny told him, and he wrote the name of the street in his pocket-book.
“Now what made you tell me that your mother wanted to buy whisky?”
“Because she does want it, and I heard the minister say, in the church there, that God loves the truthful, so I thought I would not tell any more lies.”
The gentleman smiled pleasantly, for he was the preacher in the church, only Johnny did not know him again, because it was so dark. He put a shilling into Johnny’s hand and said—
“Give it to your mother, and ask her if she will please buy you some supper with it; and before you go to sleep, kneel down and pray God to teach you how to love him, for Jesus Christ’s sake.” And so he passed on.
For a moment Johnny’s sad heart almost danced for joy as he exclaimed—
“What a nice supper I’ll have, for I’ve had nothing to eat today.”
When Johnny got home he found his mother had fallen asleep, so he crept away to his filthy straw, for this was all the bed he had. The next morning he awoke with a burning fever and was very ill. During the day he sent for Charley, to whom he repeated the words the clergyman had said the evening before, and told him how badly he felt because he had been so wicked, and had told so many falsehoods. The third day he had grown much worse, and sent for Charley again. When he arrived, Johnny said —
“I am very sick. I think I am going to die, and God does not love me! Nobody loves me but you, Charley. I wish I knew where to find the man that said, ‘God loves the truthful!’ Maybe he would tell me how to love God, and whether he will love me.”
While he was speaking they heard a tap at the door, and when Charley opened it, he was surprised to see the preacher himself come in. When Johnny saw his face and heard his voice, he knew that the gentleman he saw in the church was the same that met him outside and gave him the shilling.
“Oh, sire, I am so glad you have come!” he exclaimed. “You said God loved the truthful, but I have been very wicked, I have told a great many lies. And now I am going to die, and God does not love me! No one loves me but Charley. Can’t you tell me how to love God, and whether he will love me or not?”
Then the good man told him of the Saviour’s love, and prayed beside him; and while he prayed, little Johnny prayed too, and his face beamed with joy, and he cried out—
“Now I know that God loves me! Jesus loves me!” It seemed, sir, when you were praying, as though the Saviour came down and lifted a great load from my heart! I am going to live with Jesus! I shall not be wicked any more. I shall never feel hungry again. I shall never be cold!”
His mother, who was sober now, presently came in, and wept bitter tears over him, and he put his hand on her head and whispered to pray God to make her love him.
The minister then went away, saying that he would call again the next day. He did so, but found Johnny lying cold and white as a marble on his bed of straw. He had died early that morning, and his spirit had gone to live with the God of truth for ever.
In the church wher
e Johnny went that Sunday, there are a great many free seats; and one of those seats, near the wall, you may see regularly, at the morning and evening service, a poor woman, decently dressed, but very pale, and weak, and careworn. She joins devoutly in the worship, and her aspect is that of a humble penitent, who receives with meekness the Word of Life. That is Johnny’s mother.
Smugglers Smuggling
Cask for Smuggling Cider
Typical methods of checking the contents of a cask were useless with casks like this. A bent rod was necessary to check for tobacco concealed in the ends.
How the Deal Boatmen used to Smuggle Tea Ashore illustrating how boatmen from Deal concealed tea from Customs officers. Up to 30 lbs. of tea could be secreted under a man’s hat, coat, and trousers.
Reading V
An excerpt from Memoirs of a Smuggler, compiled from the journal of John Rattenbury
Before I set out on my last voyage, I had fixed my affections on a young woman in the neighbourhood, and it was agreed that our union should take place immediately on my return. I now claimed the fulfilment of this promise, and we were married on the 17th of April, 1801. We then went to reside at Lyme, and finding that I could not obtain any regular employment at home, I again determined to try my fortune in privateering, and accordingly engaged myself with Captain Diamond, to go with him on board the Alert, a lugger belonging to Weymouth, which was then fitting out at Bridport for that purpose. Having completed our stores, in the month of May we set sail for Alderney, and there took in our stock of wine and spirits. We then steered to the Western islands, on a cruise, in expectation of falling in with Spanish vessels, and after being at sea for three months, put in at St. Michael’s, where we found in the roads a large ship from Rio-de-la-Plata, laden with hides and tallow; but to our great disappointment, after trying various manœuvres to allure her out, that being a neutral port, we were obliged to put to sea again, leaving her behind.
The same day, we fell in with the Concord frigate, and our captain going on board, after having mentioned the circumstance, was informed that there was another ship from the river La Plata, that came out at the same time, at Fayal. The captain then went in to measure the distance, but found that we were within the limits.
We kept in company with the frigate for some days, and were parted during the night. After cruising for some time, we went into Fayal, to look after the Spanish ship, of which the captain of the Concord gave us information, and found her there; but, after having had recourse to every scheme in our power to decoy her out, and finding that all our stratagems were without effect, we relinquished the pursuit for a time, and put into Port-a-Pin close by. There we went on shore and drank with the Spaniards, and got the boatswain and four others to enter on board our vessel, which they had agreed to do; but, when they got on shore, they were found out, and taken prisoners. A few days afterwards, we went in again, and our captain spoke to the consul, who advised us to make off as quick as possible, as he was apprehensive that the Spaniards intended to fire on us. We accordingly took this advice, and went on another cruise; and on returning from it, put into St. Ubes in Portugal, to replenish our stock of provisions. The captain then asked us if we were inclined to go to sea for one month longer, and we agreed to do so, upon his promising to give us a month’s wages in advance. After performing quarantine at St. Ubes, we took in our stock of provisions; and, leaving that port, continued cruising without any success till Christmas day. The captain then mustered all hands, and asked whether we were inclined to abandon the undertaking, and return to England: to this we readily gave our consent; and, putting the helm hard-a-weather immediately, steered for home.
In the course of our voyage, we fell in with the Alert, king’s cutter; and our captain, going on board, received a threat from the principal officer that he would impress all his men; to which he replied, that he commanded such a set of resolute and desperate fellows, that, if he attempted any such thing, they would blow him and his vessel out of the water. When our captain returned, having heard what had taken place, we immediately put him below, and took charge of the vessel ourselves; we then hoisted all the sail we could, and got safe into Weymouth, on Sunday the 28th of December, 1801. Immediately on my return, I went to see my wife at Lyme, and remained at home about four years, being principally engaged in piloting and victualling ships. During this time, an American brig came into the bay, and I went off to her with three other men; but as soon as we were on the deck, the prize-master ordered the people to bring up his pistols, and detained me on board to pilot the brig into Weymouth, as there was not sufficient water to bring her into Lyme. I performed this office very much to his satisfaction, and at parting he gave me twenty guineas, in consideration of the services I had rendered him.
On another occasion, I was sent for to Bridport, to take charge of a vessel; and, the same night, a lieutenant belonging to the Diamond frigate, in the Greyhound cutter, came on board to impress men who took me and put me in confinement, and a man over the scuttle to keep me down, while he overhauled other vessels that were lying there. When he was gone, I said to the man who was put to guard me, “I will give you a guinea if you will let me come up,” which offer he accepted. As soon as I came upon deck, I jumped overboard, but the man giving an alarm, the gang surrounded and re-captured me, after which they carried me in triumph to the boat. I now employed my wits in endeavouring to find out some way of escape; and, when daylight came, I said to the lieutenant, “If you will go on shore, I will show you where there are some fine young fellows:” to this he readily agreed. We then went on shore, and I pointed out a public-house to him; but, not finding any there, he began to suspect that my design was to get free, and ordered me down into the boat with the rest of his men. As we were going there I saw my wife coming towards me, and entreated him to let me stop a moment to speak to her; this he gruffly refused, and in an angry tone, again ordered me forward to the boat. As soon as I got on board, I made a start through the water, and up the town; he followed me with nine of his men, upon which my wife collared him, and he threw her down; a scuffle then ensued, in which the townspeople took part, while I made my escape, and got clear off.
After this adventure, I went to reside at Beer, and made a great many trips in smuggling, several of them attended with the most complete success; but, at other times, I had the mortification to see my property captured, through the vigilance of those officers who, like harpies, were continually hovering round the shore, and looking out for prey. Among the foremost of these was the lieutenant of the Greyhound, from whose clutches I had so recently escaped. One instance in which I very narrowly eluded his pursuit was attended with such extraordinary, and at the same time ludicrous circumstances, that I will insert it here, as I think it will amuse the reader. Being at Weymouth, and finding that he was endeavouring to pounce upon me, I took refuge in a public-house, with the landlord of which I was well acquainted. But having obtained intelligence of my lurking-place, about two o’clock in the morning he paid us a visit, and roused us from the arms of sleep, swearing that if the landlord did not come down and open the door, he would fire at him through the window, and force an entrance. Immediately on his giving the alarm, I climbed up the chimney, and remained there about an hour, while he was narrowly inspecting the premises. On his departure, when all was quiet, I came down, covered with soot all over, making a most dismal appearance; and I likewise found I had bruised myself considerably, through the narrowness of the aperture in which I had been confined, and the difficulty of breathing in it; but I now triumphed over the sense of pain itself, in the exultation which I experienced at having once more escaped out of the clutches of this keen-eyed lieutenant and indefatigable pickaroon.
Recipe—Rhubarb Wine
When the green stalks or stems of the rhubarb plant are arrived at their full size, which will generally be about the middle of the month of May, pluck from the plant the stems or stalks; then cut off the leaves, and throw them away. Bruise the stalks or stems in a large
mortar, or other convenient means, so as to reduce them to a pulp; put the pulp into an open vat or tub, and to every five pounds’ weight of the stalk or stem add one gallon of cold spring water. Let it infuse for three days, stirring it three or four times a day: on the fourth day, press the pulp in the usual manner, and strain off the liquor, which place in an open vat or tub, and to every gallon of the liquor add three pounds of white loaf-sugar, stirring it until the sugar is quite dissolved. Then let it rest, and in four, five, or six days, the fermentation will begin to subside, and a crust, or head, will be formed, which is to be skimmed off, or the liquor drawn from it, just when the crust or head begins to crack or separate. Then put the wine into the cask, but do not then stop it down. If it should begin to ferment in the cask, rack it into another cask. In about a fortnight stop down the cask, and let it remain till the beginning of the month of March in the next year, when you must rack it, and again stop down the cask; but if, from continued slight fermentation in any cask, the wine then should have lost any of its original sweetness, you must put into the racked wine a sufficient quantity of loaf-sugar to sweeten it, and stop down the cask, taking care in all cases that the cask should be full. In a month or six weeks it will be fit to bottle, and in the summer to drink; but the wine will be improved by remaining a year or more in the cask after it has been racked. It should be remarked that the plant in the autumn (about the latter end of August) will produce a second crop, when you can make another quantity or wine, by pursuing a like process.