The Child-Strippers.
How different are the estimates people form of mankind! Some say thatthe world is just very much as you take it--the old notion that truth isjust as you think it. If you wear a rough glove, you may think all thoseyou shake hands with are rough in the palms; and if you wear a soft one,so in the other way; and no doubt if you grin in a glass, you will get agrin in return--if you smile, you will be repaid with a smile. All verywell this in the clever way; but I've a notion that there are depths ofdepravity not to be gauged in this short plumb way, just as there areheights of perfection not to be got at by our own estimates ofourselves. As for the general "top-to-toe rottenness" so congenial tosome religious sects, why there's a little truth there too--at least Iwould look sharp at a man who could turn his eye in and about his ownheart, and just say, with a nice smirk, "Well, I am glad to find thatman is an angel after all." It is as well for me anyhow that I am notgiven to making a kaleidoscope of my heart, turning up only varieties ofbeauty, without considering that a few hard pebbles form the elementsof the fine display, otherwise how could I have had any belief in theexistence of such beings as Kate Lang and Nell Duff. I would as readilyhave believed in M. Chaillo's account of the Gorillas; only theseoptimist gentry do admit, with a smile of satisfaction, that a hungrytiger is not to be trusted with a live infant--no more is Kate Lang, sayI.
The practice of child-stripping, which is not so common now, is one ofthose depths of depravity to which I have alluded. It is not that thereis so much cruelty done. It forms a fine subject for very tender peoplewho wail about the poor innocents left shivering in their shirts. Butthere is more fancy than fact here; they don't shiver long in a crowdedcity; nay, the stripping is sometimes productive of good, in so much asthe neighbours contrive to get the victim pretty well supplied with evenbetter clothes than those stolen. There is more sympathy due to the casewhich happens sometimes where a heartless thief makes off with theclothes, shirt and all, of a bather, about the solitary parts ofGranton; for here the situation of the victim is really terrible. To runafter the thief is nearly out of the question as regards success, evenif he could make up his mind to a chase in his very _natural_ condition;nor is his remaining remedy much better--a walk so unlike that of Adamthrough Paradise to the nearest house, a mile off, where he must knockat a door, drive away the opener with a scream, bolt like a robber intoa bed-room, and get a walk home in a suit of clothes in which hisfriends cannot recognise him. Our feelings depend often upon suchstrange turns of thought, that a case of this latter kind, so repletewith even agony, can scarcely be told without something like a smileworking among the gravely-disposed muscles of the face of the hearer;while that of the child, almost always left its _skin_ linen, is viewedwith indignation and pity. I cannot explain this difference; but it isnot difficult to see how, independently of the rather exaggeratednotions we entertain of the condition of the victim, the crime ofchild-stripping should be visited with the execration it generallymeets.
In 1838, and thereabouts, this offence of child-stripping increased toan extent which roused the fears of mothers. The depradators were ofcourse women. My only doubts were, whether there were more than one;for, as I have taken occasion to remark, all such peculiar and out ofthe way offences are generally the work of some one ingenious artiste;and if more are concerned, they are only parties to a league in whichthe inventor is the leader. I confess I was more inclined to believe inthe single performer, but I was destined in this instance to find myselfwrong. I was at least determined to get at the bottom of the mystery,and it wasn't long until I was gratified. In the month of May of theyear mentioned, the cases had accumulated, and as yet my inquiries hadbeen unsuccessful. In the new town the cases had been limited to thenarrow streets, and latterly they had increased about the foot of theCanongate. In that quarter, accordingly, I found it necessary to be,though not very expedient to be seen, and I soon got upon my properscent. One day I observed coming from the Watergate three or four women,all of the lowest section of Conglomerates--not altogether a perfectlyapplicable name here, in so much as my "clear grits" were not rounded byhealthy washings, but sharpened by the abrasion of vice and misery. Theywere busy tying up a bundle, and after indulging in many stealthy looksto the right and left, they made forward up the Canongate. I mightsafely have stopped them and made inquiry into the contents of theirbundle, but I had something else in view, and was content with notingthem, all known to me as they were--cast-off Fancies, not genteel enoughfor being leagued with respectable thieves, and yet below the summerheat of love--trulls or trollops--troganmongers during day, andtroglodytes during night.
I have said I had hopes, and accordingly I had scarcely lost sight ofthem when I encountered, a little on this side of the Abbey strand, asmall Cupid of a fellow standing in the middle of the street, (he hadcrept from a stair foot,) having a little bit of a shirt on him comingdown to his knees, and crying lustily with beslubbered face.
That's my robbed traveller, said I to myself, as I made up to the youngsufferer who had so early fallen among thieves.
And just at the same time as the wondering women of the Watergate werepouring in to see the interesting personage, up comes the mother, who(as I afterwards learned) having sent out Johnny for a loaf of bread,and finding he didn't return, issued forth to seek for him. One mayguess her astonishment at meeting him within so short a time, probablynot ten minutes, in a state approaching to nudity, but the guess wouldhardly come up to the real thing. The notion of his having been robbedand stripped didn't occur to her, and her amazement did not abate untilI told her the truth, whereupon the women--like so many hens whosechickens had been seized by a hawk--broke into a scream of execrationwhich excited the wit of an Irishman, "Have the vagabonds taken thewatch from the gintleman? Why didn't they take the shirt too, and make anaked shaim ov it?" And having taken the name of the mother, I madeafter my strippers.
Nor was it long until I got them again within my vision. It seemed to bea feasting-day with the ogresses. They met and parted, every one lookingout for some little Red Ridinghood, who was doubtless unconscious of thetender mercies of the she-wolves. The league consisted of five, all ofwhom had been through my hands for thefts and robberies--CatharineLang, Helen Duff, Mary Joice, Margaret Joice, and Robina Finnie. If youhave ever been among the wynds, you can form an idea of these hags; ifyou haven't, you must excuse me--squalor-painting is at best a mud-daub.Amongst all, mark this strange feature--that though some of them hadbeen mothers, the mother was here inverted, the natural feelings turnedupside down; the innocent creatures for whom some stray sympathy mighthave been expected, changed into objects of rapine and cruelty for thesake of a few rags. I soon not only marked their movements, but saw thatan opportunity waited them--for where in the old town will you not findclots of children? and are not these, when engaged in play, artless andconfiding? Who, however degraded, will harm them? Nay, if there is anycreature secure from the drunkard, the libertine, or the thief, it isthe merry playmates of the pavement, whose gambols bring back to theseared heart of the vicious the happiness and innocence they have solong been strangers to. Yes, all true, though a little poetical; but Isuspect there is a depth even _below_ vice.
The wolves' eyes were, as I could see, on the merry Red Ridinghoods; andas their number was five, I beckoned to a constable to get one or two ofhis brethren and watch in the neighbouring close-mouths. As for myself,I betook me to a stair-foot at the top of New Street, where, besides theadvantage of a look-out, I had the chance, according to my calculation,of being on the very spot of the expected operation, for there were butfew convenient places about. The women were so intent upon theirvictims, that they seemed to have forgotten that while they weresupervising they might themselves be supervised. Nor was it long beforeI began to see that my expectations would be realised. Lang had almostimmediately the best dressed of the gambolers in her _motherly_ hand,and the bit of sugar-candy was working its charm; so true it is thatthere is awaiting every one a bait at the end of the stand
ing line,stretched out in the waters of life, about which we are always swimmingand flapping our tails, passing and repassing without ever dreaming ofthe hook. Ay, there are big fish intent upon large enterprises among thedeeper places, who will snap at the dead worm even in the midst ofliving gold-fish. And is it not a pleasure sometimes to see them caughtby the garbage when one can net the angler as well as the angled? Mymoral applies not to the gudgeons, but the pikes.
Yes, I was right, Lang, with the girl in her hand, and followed by Duffand one of the Joices, made right for my entry. I stepped up the stair afew paces to be out of the way. I wanted for ardent reasons that theoperation should be as complete as possible, for the cancer had becometoo deep for any good from mere skin-cutting. The moment they got theconfiding soul in, who no doubt thought herself in hands far more kindlythan her mother's, the sugar-candy of temptation was changed for thealoes of force. The three, stimulated by the fear of some one coming inupon them, either from below or above, flew at her like hawks pouncingupon a gowdie. Did ever before the fingers of ogresses go with suchrapidity to strip the clothes that they might gobble up the body? Thelittle mouth, still stuffed with the sweet bait, was taken care of by arough hand. The plucking was the work of an instant--bonnet, pinny,napkin, frock, petticoats, boots and stockings.
"It's a good shurt, Kate."
"Worth a shilling, Nell."
"Off wid it," cried Joice.
The little chemise is whirled over the head, and the minum "nude" isleft roaring alone--a chance living lay figure, which would have charmedeven Lord Haddo, if he had a palette and brush, with its exquisitenatural tints.
If I had had time to wait and see, I might have observed a bit of childlife also worthy of a Paton or a Faed; for just as I was hurrying down,in came rushing the playmates, all with wondering eyes to see Phemy (Iascertained her name afterwards) standing naked within a few minutesafter she had left their play. Do you think they would ever forget thatsight all their born days? But I had another sight in view moreinteresting to me--even one in wolf-life, with some difference inexpression and tints--the grandmammas with the canines and long claws,so formidable to the Ridinghoods. Nor was I disappointed. I had set mytrap so well that I had no need of the candy-bait. The instant theconstables had seen what was going on, they had laid hold of the otherJoice and Robina Finnie, and the three who had been engaged, having seentheir dear sisters in custody, turned down New Street, up which they hadgone a few steps, and were seized by me and another constable frombehind. Meanwhile the cries of the little nude, mixed with those of hertiny sisterhood, brought a crowd, who, instantly ascertaining the causeof all the uproar, showered their indignation on the culprits with aseverity that excluded even Irish humour. Nay, so furious were thehen-mothers, that unless we had taken good care of our sparrow-hawks,there would that day have been more stript than Phemy and herbrother-victim of the Watergate; nor would I have answered fordiscolorations or broken bones. But care was also taken of the tenderchicken, who, rolled up in a shawl, became in the midst of the crowd alittle heroine, honoured with more endearing epithets and sympatheticcondolences than would perhaps ever fall to her portion again.
At the top of the street we collected our prisoners, and marched themgallantly up the Canongate and High Street. One likes to possess thefavour of the female part of the people, and this day I got as much ofthe incense of hero-worship as if I had stopped a massacre of theinnocents. I am not sure if some males, too, much given to baby-love,did not glugger with reddened gills in anger at the spoilers of theirwives' darlings; all which was no doubt heightened by the impressionthen in the public mind, produced by the repeated accounts of theinstances of this nefarious traffic. The prisoners had even during theprevious part of that day committed four strippings of the same kindbesides those I had witnessed.
It was not long till I ascertained that I had been wrong in my originalconjecture, and that the whole of these thefts had been perpetrated by agang. During their confinement, and when we expected that they wouldhold out in their denial of guilt, it was quite a scene to witness theidentifications. The witnesses were, of course, the little victimsthemselves, on whose minds the features of the women had been soindelibly impressed, especially where, like the case of Phemy, "theshurt was a good un," that they not only knew them, but screamed withterror the moment they were brought before them. And to the women, nodoubt, they were of that kind of terrible infants so well described bythe French, the more by reason, perhaps, that among that people thechildren have more strange things to see than in our decent country.From searches we got the evidence of the little wardrobes themselves,chiefly through pawns, shewing the immense extent of their assiduouslabours. Nor had it been an unprofitable traffic to them; many of thedresses were taken from well-dressed youngsters in the new town, and youhave only to buy those things to know what money it costs to rigg out alittle man or woman in our day, when the children are taught pride and alove of finery with the supping of porridge. But, after all, it came outthat we didn't need these evidences. The vagabonds broke down in the endunder the accumulation of proof, and admitted to I do not know how manystrippings. They each got eighteen months' imprisonment, and thecommunity was relieved from the cold-blooded and unfeeling practice ofchild-stripping for a long period afterwards.
At War with Society; or, Tales of the Outcasts Page 10