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diff --git a/old/60440-0.txt b/old/60440-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 7d56b87..0000000 --- a/old/60440-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,55825 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of London Labour and the London Poor (Vol. 2 -of 4), by Henry Mayhew - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: London Labour and the London Poor (Vol. 2 of 4) - -Author: Henry Mayhew - -Release Date: October 6, 2019 [EBook #60440] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LONDON LABOUR AND THE LONDON *** - - - - -Produced by Henry Flower, Jonathan Ingram, Suzanne Lybarger, -the booksmiths at eBookForge and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber's Note - - -Italic text is indicated by _underscores_, and bold text by ~swung -dashes~. Superscript text is indicated by caret signs, e.g. N^o. - - - - - LONDON LABOUR - AND THE LONDON POOR - - A Cyclopædia of the Condition and Earnings - - OF - - THOSE THAT _WILL_ WORK - THOSE THAT _CANNOT_ WORK, AND - THOSE THAT _WILL NOT_ WORK - - BY - HENRY MAYHEW - - THE LONDON STREET-FOLK - - COMPRISING - - STREET SELLERS · STREET BUYERS · STREET FINDERS - STREET PERFORMERS · STREET ARTIZANS · STREET LABOURERS - - WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS FROM PHOTOGRAPHS - - VOLUME TWO - - - - - First edition 1851 - (_Volume One only and parts of Volumes Two and Three_) - Enlarged edition (Four volumes) 1861-62 - New impression 1865 - - - - -CONTENTS - -OF - -VOLUME II. - -THE STREET-FOLK. - - - - - PAGE - INTRODUCTION 1 - STREET-SELLERS OF SECOND-HAND ARTICLES 5 - STREET-SELLERS OF LIVE ANIMALS 47 - STREET-SELLERS OF MINERAL PRODUCTIONS AND NATURAL CURIOSITIES 81 - THE STREET-BUYERS 103 - THE STREET-JEWS 115 - STREET-FINDERS OR COLLECTORS 136 - THE STREETS OF LONDON 181 - CHIMNEY-SWEEPERS 338 - CROSSING SWEEPERS 465 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. - - - PAGE - A VIEW IN PETTICOAT-LANE 36 - A VIEW IN ROSEMARY-LANE 39 - THE STREET DOG-SELLER 54 - THE CRIPPLED STREET BIRD-SELLER 66 - STREET-SELLER OF BIRDS’-NESTS 72 - THE JEW OLD-CLOTHES MAN 118 - THE BONE-GRUBBER 138 - THE MUD-LARK 155 - THE LONDON DUSTMAN 172 - VIEW OF A DUST-YARD 208 - THE LONDON SCAVENGER 226 - STREET ORDERLIES 253 - THE ABLE-BODIED PAUPER STREET-SWEEPER 262 - THE RUBBISH-CARTER 289 - THE LONDON SWEEP 346 - ONE OF THE FEW REMAINING CLIMBING-SWEEPS 354 - THE MILKMAID’S GARLAND 370 - THE SWEEP’S HOME 378 - THE SEWER-HUNTER 388 - MODE OF CLEANSING CESSPOOLS 406 - FLUSHING THE SEWERS 424 - THE RAT-CATCHERS OF THE SEWERS 431 - LONDON NIGHTMEN 433 - THE BEARDED CROSSING-SWEEPER AT THE EXCHANGE 471 - THE CROSSING-SWEEPER THAT HAS BEEN A MAID-SERVANT 479 - THE IRISH CROSSING-SWEEPER 481 - THE ONE-LEGGED CROSSING-SWEEPER AT CHANCERY-LANE 488 - THE BOY CROSSING-SWEEPERS 494 - - - - - LONDON LABOUR - AND - THE LONDON POOR. - - VOL. II. - - THE STREET-FOLK. - BOOK THE SECOND. - - - - -INTRODUCTION. - - -In commencing a new volume I would devote a few pages to the -consideration of the import of the facts already collected concerning -the London Street-Folk, not only as regards the street-people -themselves, but also in connection with the general society of which -they form so large a proportion. - -The precise extent of the proportion which the Street-Traders bear -to the rest of the Metropolitan Population is the first point to be -evolved; for the want, the ignorance, and the vice of a street-life -being in a direct ratio to the numbers, it becomes of capital -importance that we should know how many are seeking to pick up a -livelihood in the public thoroughfares. This is the more essential -because the Government returns never _have_ given us, and probably -never _will_ give us, any correct information respecting it. The -Census of 1841 set down the “Hawkers, Hucksters, and Pedlars” of the -Metropolis as numbering 2045; and from the inquiries I have made among -the street-sellers as to the means taken to obtain a full account -of their numbers for the next population return, the Census of 1851 -appears likely to be about as correct in its statements concerning the -Street Traders and Performers as the one which preceded it. - -According to the accounts which have been collected during the -progress of this work, the number of the London Street-People, so -far as the inquiry has gone, is upwards of 40,000. This sum is made -up of 30,000 Costermongers; 2000 Street-Sellers of “Green-Stuff,” as -Watercresses, Chickweed, and Groundsell, Turf, &c.; 4000 Street Sellers -of Eatables and Drinkables; 1000 selling Stationery, Books, Papers, -and Engravings in the streets; and 4000 other street-sellers vending -manufactured articles, either of metal, crockery, textile, chemical, or -miscellaneous substances, making altogether 41,000, or in round numbers -say 40,000 individuals. The 30,000 costermongers may be said to include -12,000 men, 6000 women, and 12,000 children. - -The above numbers comprise the main body of people selling in -the London streets; hence if we assert that, with the vendors of -second-hand articles, as old metal, glass, linen, clothes, &c., and -mineral productions, such as coke, salt, and sand, there are about -45,000 street-traders in the Metropolis, we shall not, I am satisfied, -be very far from the truth. - -The value of the Capital, or Stock in Trade, of these people, though -individually trifling, amounts, collectively, to a considerable sum -of money--indeed, to very nearly 40,000_l._, or at the rate of about -1_l._ per head. Under the term Capital are included the donkeys, -barrows, baskets, stalls, trays, boards, and goods belonging to the -several street-traders; and though the stock of the water-cress, the -small-ware, the lucifer, the flower, or the chickweed and groundsell -seller may not exceed in value 1_s._, and the basket or tray upon -which it is carried barely half that sum, that of the more prosperous -costermonger, possessed of his barrow and donkey; or of the Cheap John, -with his cart filled with hardware; or the Packman, with his bale of -soft wares at his back, may be worth almost as many pounds as the -others are pence. - -The gross amount of trade done by the London Street-Sellers in the -course of the year is so large that the mind is at first unable to -comprehend how, without reckless extravagance, want can be in any way -associated with the class. After the most cautious calculation, the -results having been checked and re-checked in a variety of ways, so -that the conclusion arrived at might be somewhat near and certainly -not beyond the truth, it appears that the “_takings_” of the London -Street-Sellers cannot be said to be less than 2,500,000_l._ per annum. -But vast as this sum may seem, and especially when considered as only a -portion of the annual expenditure of the Metropolitan Poor, still, when -we come to spread the gross yearly receipts over 40,000 people, we find -that the individual takings are but 62_l._ per annum, which (allowing -the rate of profit to be in all cases even 50 per cent., though I am -convinced it is often much less) gives to each street-trader an annual -income of 20_l._ 13_s._ 4_d._, or within a fraction of 8_s._ a week, -all the year round. And when we come to deduct from this the loss -by perishable articles, the keep of donkeys, the wear and tear, or -hire, of barrows--the cost of stalls and baskets, together with the -interest on stock-money (generally at the rate of 4_s._ a week--and -often 1_s._ a day--for 1_l._, or 1040_l._ per cent. per annum), we -may with safety assert that the average gain or clear income of the -Metropolitan Street-Sellers is rather under than over 7_s._ 6_d._ a -week. Some of the more expert street-traders may clear 10_s._ or even -15_s._ weekly throughout the year, while the weekly profit of the less -expert, the old people, and the children, may be said to be 3_s._ 6_d._ -These incomes, however, are the average of the gross yearly profits -rather than the regular weekly gains; the consequence is, that though -they might be sufficient to keep the majority of the street-sellers in -comparative comfort, were they constant and capable of being relied -upon, from week to week--but being variable and uncertain, and rising -sometimes from nothing in the winter to 1_l._ a week in the summer, -when street commodities are plentiful and cheap, and the poorer classes -have money wherewith to purchase them--and fluctuating moreover, even -at the best of times, according as the weather is wet or fine, and the -traffic of the streets consequently diminished or augmented--it is but -natural that the people subject to such alternations should lack the -prudence and temperance of those whose incomes are more regular and -uniform. - -To place the above facts clearly before the reader the following table -has been prepared. The first column states the titles of the several -classes of street-sellers; the second, the number of individuals -belonging to each of these classes; the third, the value of their -respective capitals or stock in trade; the fourth, the gross amount -of trade done by them respectively every year; the fifth, the average -yearly takings of each class; and the sixth, their average weekly -gains. This gives us, as it were, a bird’s-eye view of the earnings -and pecuniary condition of the various kinds of street-sellers already -treated of. It is here cited, as indeed all the statistics in this -work are, as an approximation to the truth rather than a definite and -accurate result. - - -------------------------------------+-----------+--------------+----------------------+-----------+--------- - | | Gross amount | | | - | Number of | of capital, | | Average | - DESCRIPTION OF CLASS. | Persons | or stock | Gross amount of | yearly | Average - | in each | in trade | trade annually done | receipts | weekly - | Class. | belonging to | by each class. | per head. | gains. - | | each class. | | | - -------------------------------------+-----------+--------------+----------------------+-----------+--------- - COSTERMONGERS[1] } | | | £ | | - Street-Sellers of Wet Fish } | | | 1,177,200 } | | - „ „ Dry fish } | | | 127,000 } | | - „ „ Shell Fish } | | | 156,600 } | | - } | | | --------- } | | - } | | | 1,460,800 } | | - „ „ Green Fruit } | | | 332,400 } | | - „ „ Dry Fruit } | 30,000[2] | £25,000 | 1,000 } | £60 | 8_s._ - „ „ Vegetables } | | | 292,200 } | | - } | | | --------- } | | - „ „ Game, Poultry, } | | | 625,600 } | | - Rabbits, &c. } | | | 80,000 } | | - } | | | 14,800 } | | - „ „ Flowers, } | | | --------- } | | - Roots &c. } | | | 2,181,200 } | | - | | | | | - STREET-SELLERS OF GREEN STUFF | | | | | - Watercresses[3] | 1,000 | 87 | 13,900 | 13 | 3_s._ 6_d._ - Chickweed, Groundsell, and | | | | | - Plantain[4] | 1,000 | 42 | 14,000 | 14 | 5_s._ - Turf-Cutters and Sellers | 40 | 20 | 570 | 14 | 5_s._ 6_d._ - | | | | | - STREET-SELLERS OF EATABLES AND | | | | | - DRINKABLES | 4,000 | 9,000 | 203,100 | 50 | 10_s._ - | | | | | - STREET-SELLERS OF STATIONERY, | | | | | - LITERATURE, AND THE FINE ARTS | 1,000 | 400 | 33,400 | 30 | 8_s._ - | | | | | - STREET-SELLERS OF MANUFACTURED | | | | | - ARTICLES of Metal, Crockery | | | | | - and Glass, Textile, Chemical, | | | | | - or Miscellaneous Substances | 4,000 | 2,800 | 188,200 | 47 | 10_s._ - -------------------------------------+-----------+--------------+----------------------+-----------+--------- - | 41,040 | £37,529 | £2,634,370 | £60 | 8_s._ - -------------------------------------+-----------+--------------+----------------------+-----------+--------- - -Now, according to the above estimate, it would appear that the gross -annual receipts of the entire body of street-sellers (for there are -many besides those above specified--as for instance, the vendors -of second-hand articles, &c.) may be estimated in round numbers at -3,000,000_l._ sterling, and their clear income at about 1,000,000_l._ -per annum. Hence, we are enabled to perceive the importance of -the apparently insignificant traffic of the streets; for were the -street-traders to be prohibited from pursuing their calling, and so -forced to apply for relief at the several metropolitan unions, the -poor-rates would be at the least doubled. The total sum expended in -the relief of the London poor, during 1848, was 725,000_l._, but this -we see is hardly three-fourths of the income of the street-traders. -Those, therefore, who would put an end to the commerce of our streets, -should reflect whether they would like to do so at the cost of doubling -the present poor-rates and of reducing one-fortieth part of the entire -metropolitan population from a state of comparative independence to -absolute pauperism. - -However unsatisfactory it may be to the aristocratic pride of the -wealthy commercial classes, it cannot be denied that a very important -element of the trade of this vast capital--this marvellous centre of -the commerce of the world--I cite the stereotype phrases of civic -eloquence, for they are at least truths--it is still undeniable, I -say, that a large proportion of the commerce of the capital of Great -Britain is in the hands of the Street-Folk. This simple enunciation -might appear a mere platitude were it not that the street-sellers are -a _proscribed class_. They are driven from stations to which long -possession might have been thought to give them a quasi legal right; -driven from them at the capricious desire of the shopkeepers, some of -whom have had bitter reason, by the diminution of their own business, -to repent their interference. They are bandied about at the will of a -police-officer. They must “move on” and not obstruct a thoroughfare -which may be crammed and blocked with the carriages of the wealthy -until to cross the road on foot is a danger. They are, in fine, a body -numbering thousands, who are allowed to live in the prosecution of -the most ancient of all trades, sale or barter in the open air, _by -sufferance alone_. They are classed as unauthorized or illegal and -intrusive traders, though they _“turn over” millions in a year_. - -The authorities, it is true, do not sanction any general arbitrary -enforcement of the legal proscription of the Street-Folk, but they have -no option if a section of shopkeepers choose to say to them, “Drive -away from our doors these street-people.” It appears to be sufficient -for an inferior class of tradesmen--for such the meddlers with the -street-folk generally seem to be--merely to desire such a removal in -order to accomplish it. It is not necessary for them to say in excuse, -“We pay heavy rents, and rates, and taxes, and are forced to let our -lodgings accordingly; we pay for licences, and some of us as well pay -fines for giving short weight to poor people, and that, too, when it -is hardly safe to give short weight to our richer patrons; but what -rates, taxes, or licences do these street-traders pay? Their lodgings -may be dear enough, but their rates are nominally nothing” (being -charged in the rent of their rooms). “From taxes they are blessedly -exempt. They are called upon to pay no imposts on their property or -income; they defray merely the trifling duties on their tobacco, beer, -tea, sugar, coffee” (though these by the way--the chief articles in -the excise and customs returns--make up one-half of the revenue of -the country). “They ought to be put down. _We_ can supply all that is -wanting. What may become of _them_ is simply their own concern.” - -The Act 50 Geo. III., c. 41, requires that every person “carrying to -sell or exposing to sale any goods, wares, or merchandize,” shall pay -a yearly duty. But according to s. 23, “nothing in this Act shall -extend to prohibit any person or persons from selling (by hawking in -the streets) any printed papers licensed by authority; or any fish, -fruit, or victuals.” Among the privileged articles are also included -barm or yeast, and coals. The same Act, moreover, contains nothing to -prohibit the maker of any home-manufacture from exposing his goods -to sale in any town-market or fair, nor any tinker, cooper, glazier, -or other artizan, from going about and carrying the materials of his -business. The unlicensed itinerant vendors of such things however as -lucifer-matches, boot-laces, braces, fuzees, or any wares indeed, not -of their own manufacture, are violators of the law, and subject to a -penalty of 10_l._, or three months’ imprisonment for each offence. It -is in practice, however, only in the hawking of such articles as those -on which the duty is heavy and of considerable value to the revenue -(such as tea, tobacco, or cigars), that there is any actual check in -the London streets. - -Nevertheless, a large proportion of the street-trading without a -licence is contrary to law, and the people seeking to obtain a living -by such means are strictly liable to fine or imprisonment, while even -those street-traders whom the Act specially exempts--as for instance -the street-sellers of fish, fruit, and vegetables, and of eatables and -drinkables, as well as the street artizans, and who are said to have -the right of “exposing their goods to sale in any market or fair in -every city, borough, town-corporate, and market-town”--even these, I -say, are liable to be punished for obstructing the highway whenever -they attempt to do so. - -Now these are surely anomalies which it is high time, in these -free-trade days, should cease. _The endeavour to obtain an honest and -independent livelihood should subject no man to fine or imprisonment_; -nor should the poor hawker--the neediest perhaps of all tradesmen--be -required to pay 4_l._ a year for the liberty to carry on his business -when the wealthy shopkeeper can do so “scot-free.” Moreover, it is a -glaring iniquity that the rich tradesman should have it in his power, -by complaining to the police, to deprive his poorer rival of the -right to dispose of his goods in the streets. It is often said, in -justification, that as the shopkeepers pay the principal portion of -the rates and taxes, _they_ must be protected in the exercise of their -business. But this, in the first place, is far from the truth. As -regards the taxes, the poorer classes pay nearly half of the national -imposts: they pay the chief portion of the malt duty, and that is in -round numbers 5,000,000_l._ a year; the greater part of the spirit -duty, which is 4,350,000_l._; the tobacco duty, 4,250,000_l._; the -sugar duty, 4,500,000_l._; and the duty on tea, 5,330,000_l._; making -altogether 23,430,000_l._, out of about 50,000,000_l._ Concerning the -rates, however, it is not so easy to estimate what proportion the poor -people contribute towards the local burdens of the country; but if -they are householders, they have to pay quota of the parish and county -expenses directly, and, if lodgers, indirectly in the rent of their -apartments. Hence it is evident, that to consider the street-sellers -unworthy of being protected in the exercise of their calling because -they pay neither rates nor taxes, is to commit a gross injustice, not -only to the street-sellers themselves by forcing them to contribute -in their tea and sugar, their beer, gin, and tobacco, towards the -expenses of a Government which exerts itself rather to injure than -benefit them, but likewise to the ratepayers of the parish; for it is -a necessary consequence, if the shopkeepers have the power to deprive -the street-dealers of their living whenever the out-of-door tradesmen -are thought to interfere with the business of those indoors (perhaps -by underselling them), that the street-dealers, being unable to live -by their own labour, must betake themselves to the union and live upon -the labour of the parishioners, and thus the shopkeepers may be said to -enrich themselves at the expense, not only of the poor street-people, -but likewise of their brother ratepayers. - -Nor can it be said that the _Street-Sellers_ are interlopers upon these -occasions, for if ancient custom be referred to, it will be found that -the Shopkeepers are the real intruders, they having succeeded the -Hawkers, who were, in truth, the original distributors of the produce -of the country. - -But though no body of Shopkeepers, nor, indeed, any other class of -people _individually_, should possess the power to deprive the Hawkers -of what is often the last shift of struggling independence--the sale -of a few goods in the street--still it is evident that the _general_ -convenience of the public must be consulted, and that, were the -Street-Traders to be allowed the right of pitching in any thoroughfare -they pleased, many of our principal streets would be blocked up with -costers’ barrows, and the kerb of Regent-street possibly crowded like -that of the New Cut, with the hawkers and hucksters that would be sure -to resort thither; while those thoroughfares which, like Fleet-street -and Cheapside, are now almost impassable at certain times of the day, -from the increased traffic of the City, would be rendered still more -impervious by the throngs of street-sellers that the crowd alone would -be sure to attract to the spot. - -Under the circumstances, therefore, it becomes necessary that we -should provide for the vast body of Street-Sellers some authorized -place of resort, where they might be both entitled and permitted to -obtain an honest living according to Act of Parliament. To think for a -moment of “putting down” street-trading is to be at once ignorant of -the numbers and character of the people pursuing it. To pass an Act -declaring 50,000 individuals rogues and vagabonds, would be to fill our -prisons or our workhouses with men who would willingly earn their own -living. Besides, the poor _will_ buy of the poor. Subject the petty -trader to fine and imprisonment as you please, still the very sympathy -and patronage of the petty purchaser will in this country always call -into existence a large body of purveyors to the poorer classes. I -would suggest, therefore, and I do so after much consideration, and -an earnest desire to meet all the difficulties of the case, that a -number of “poor men’s markets” be established throughout London, by -the purchase or rental of plots of ground in the neighbourhood of -the present street-markets; that a small toll be paid by each of the -Street-Sellers attending such markets, for the right to vend their -goods there--that the keeper or beadle of each market be likewise an -Inspector of Weights and Measures, and that any hawker found using -“slangs” of any kind, or resorting to any imposition whatever, be -prohibited entering the market for the future--that the conduct and -regulation of the markets be under the direction of a committee -consisting of an equal number of shareholders, sellers, and working -men--the latter as representatives of the buyers--and that the surplus -funds (if any, after paying all expenses, together with a fair interest -to the shareholders of the market) should be devoted to the education -of the children of the hawkers before and after the hours of sale. -There might also be a penny savings’-bank in connection with each of -the markets, and a person stationed at the gates on the conclusion of -the day’s business, to collect all he could from the hawkers as they -left. - -There are already a sufficient number of poor-markets established at -the East end of the town--though of a different character, such as -the Old Clothes Exchange--to prove the practicability of the proposed -plan among even the pettiest traders. And I am convinced, after long -deliberation, that such institutions could not but tend to produce a -rapid and marked improvement in the character of the London Hawkers. - -This is the only way evident to me of meeting the evil of our present -street-life--an evil which is increasing every day, and which -threatens, ere long, almost to overwhelm us with its abominations. To -revile the street-people is stark folly. Their ignorance is no demerit -to them, even as it is no merit to us to know the little that we do. -If we really wish the people better, let us, I say again, do for them -what others have done for us, and without which (humiliating as it may -be to our pride) we should most assuredly have been as they are. It is -the continued forgetfulness of this truth--a truth which our wretched -self-conceit is constantly driving from our minds--that prevents our -stirring to improve the condition of these poor people; though, if we -knew but the whole of the facts concerning them, and their sufferings -and feelings, our very fears alone for the safety of the state would -be sufficient to make us do something in their behalf. I am quite -satisfied, from all I have seen, that there are thousands in this great -metropolis ready to rush forth, on the least evidence of a rising of -the people, to commit the most savage and revolting excesses--men who -have no knowledge of the government of the country but as an armed -despotism, preventing their earning their living, and who hate all -law, because it is made to appear to them merely as an organised -tyranny--men, too, who have neither religious nor moral principles to -restrain the exercise of their grossest passions when once roused, and -men who, from our very neglect of them, are necessarily and essentially -the dangerous classes, whose existence we either rail at or deplore. - -The rate of increase among the street-traders it is almost impossible -to arrive at. The population returns afford us no data for the -calculation, and the street-people themselves are unable to supply the -least information on the subject; all they can tell us is, that about -20 years ago they took a guinea for every shilling that they get now. -This heavy reduction of their receipts they attribute to the cheapness -of commodities, and the necessity to carry and sell a greater quantity -of goods in order to get the same profit, as well as to the increase -in the number of street-traders; but when questioned as to the extent -of such increase, their answers are of the vaguest possible kind. -Arranging the street-people, however, as we have done, into three -distinct classes, according to the causes which have led to their -induction into a street-life, viz., those who are _born_ and _bred_ -to the streets--those who _take_ to the streets--and those who are -_driven_ to the streets, it is evident that the main elements of any -extraordinary increase of the street-folk must be sought for among the -two latter classes. Among the first the increase will, at the utmost, -be at the same rate as the ordinary increase of the population--viz., -1-1/2 per cent. per annum; for the English costermongers and -street-traders in general appear to be remarkable rather for the small -than the large number of their children, so that, even supposing all -the boys and girls of the street-sellers to be brought up to the -same mode of life as their father, we could not thus account for any -_enormous_ increase among the street-folk. With those, however, who -_take_ to the streets from the love of a “roving life,” or the desire -to “shake a free leg”--to quote the phrases of the men themselves--or -are _driven_ to the streets from an inability to obtain employment -at the pursuit to which they have been accustomed, the case is far -different. - -That there is every day a greater difficulty for working men to live -by their labour--either from the paucity of work, or from the scanty -remuneration given for it--surely no one will be disposed to question -when every one is crying out that the country is over-populated. -Such being the case, it is evident that the number of mechanics in -the streets must be daily augmenting, for, as I have before said, -street-trading is the last shift of an unemployed artizan to keep -himself and his family from the “Union.” The workman out of work, -sooner than starve or go to the parish for relief, takes to making -up and vending on his own account the articles of his craft, whilst -the underpaid workman, sooner than continue toiling from morning till -midnight for a bare subsistence, resorts to the easier trade of buying -and selling. Again, even among the less industrious of the working -classes, the general decline in wages has tended, and is continually -tending, to make their labour more and more irksome to them. There is -a cant abroad at the present day, that there is a special pleasure in -industry, and hence we are taught to regard all those who object to -work as appertaining to the class of natural vagabonds; but where is -the man among us that loves labour? for work or labour is merely that -which is irksome to perform, and which every man requires a certain -amount of remuneration to induce him to perform. If men really loved -work they would pay to be allowed to do it rather than require to be -paid for doing it. That occupation which is agreeable to us we call -amusement, and that and that only which is disagreeable we term labour, -or drudgery, according to the intensity of its irksomeness. Hence as -the amount of remuneration given by way of inducement to a man to go -through a certain amount of work becomes reduced, so does the stimulus -to work become weakened, and this, through the decline of wages, is -what is daily taking place among us. Our operatives are continually -ceasing to be producers, and passing from the creators of wealth -into the exchangers or distributors of it; becoming mere tradesmen, -subsisting on the labour of other people rather than their own, and -so adding to the very non-producers, the great number of whom is the -main cause of the poverty of those who make all our riches. To teach -a people the difficulty of living by labour is to inculcate the most -dangerous of all lessons, and this is what we are daily doing. Our -trading classes are increasing at a most enormous rate, and so giving -rise to that exceeding competition, and consequently, to that continual -reduction of prices--all of which must ultimately fall upon the working -man. This appears to me to be the main cause of the increase of the -London street people, and one for which I candidly confess I see no -remedy. - - - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SECOND-HAND ARTICLES. - - -I have already treated of the street-commerce in such things as -are presented to the public in the form in which they are to be -cooked, eaten, drank, or used. They have comprised the necessaries, -delicacies, or luxuries of the street; they have been either the raw -food or preparations ready cooked or mixed for immediate consumption, -as in the case of the street eatables and drinkables; or else they were -the proceeds of taste (or its substitute) in art or literature, or of -usefulness or ingenuity in manufacture. - -All these many objects of street-commerce may be classified in one -well-known word: they are bought and sold _first-hand_. I have next -to deal with the _second-hand_ sellers of our streets; and in this -division perhaps will be found more that is novel, curious, and -interesting, than in that just completed. - -Mr. Babbage, in his “Economy of Machinery and Manufactures,” says, -concerning the employment of materials of little value: “The worn-out -saucepan and tin-ware of our kitchens, when beyond the reach of the -tinker’s art, are not utterly worthless. We sometimes meet carts loaded -with old tin kettles and worn-out iron coal-skuttles traversing our -streets. These have not yet completed their useful course; the less -corroded parts are cut into strips, punched with small holes, and -varnished with a coarse black varnish for the use of the trunk-maker, -who protects the edges and angles of his boxes with them; the remainder -are conveyed to the manufacturing chemists in the outskirts, who employ -them in combination with pyroligneous acid, in making a black dye for -the use of calico-printers.” - -Mr. Babbage has here indicated one portion of the nature of the -street-trade in second-hand articles--the application of worn-out -materials to a new purpose. But this second-hand commerce of the -streets--for a street-commerce it mainly is, both in selling and -buying--has a far greater extent than that above indicated, and many -ramifications. Under the present head I shall treat only of street -_sellers_, unless when a street _purchase_ may be so intimately -connected with a street _sale_ that for the better understanding of the -subject it may be necessary to sketch both. Of the STREET-BUYERS and -the STREET-FINDERS, or COLLECTORS, both connected with the second-hand -trade, I shall treat separately. - -In London, where many, in order to live, struggle to extract a meal -from the possession of an article which seems utterly worthless, -nothing must be wasted. Many a thing which in a country town is -kicked by the penniless out of their path even, or examined and left -as meet only for the scavenger’s cart, will in London be snatched -up as a prize; it is money’s worth. A crushed and torn bonnet, for -instance, or, better still, an old hat, napless, shapeless, crownless, -and brimless, will be picked up in the street, and carefully placed -in a bag with similar things by one class of street-folk--the -STREET-FINDERS. And to tempt the well-to-do to _sell_ their second-hand -goods, the street-trader offers the barter of shapely china or shining -glass vessels; or blooming fuchsias or fragrant geraniums for “the -rubbish,” or else, in the spirit of the hero of the fairy tale, he -exchanges, “new lamps for old.” - -Of the street sale of second-hand articles, with all the collateral or -incidental matter bearing immediately on the subject, I shall treat -under the following heads, or under such heads as really constitute -the staple of the business, dismissing such as may be trifling or -exceptional. Of these traffickers, then, there are five classes, the -mere enumeration of the objects of their traffic being curious enough:-- - -1. _The Street-Sellers of Old Metal Articles_, such as knives, forks, -and butchers’ steels; saws, hammers, pincers, files, screw-drivers, -planes, chisels, and other tools (more frequently those of the workers -in wood than of other artisans); old scissors and shears; locks, -keys, and hinges; shovels, fire-irons, trivets, chimney-cranes, -fenders, and fire-guards; warming-pans (but rarely now); flat and -Italian irons, curling-tongs; rings, horse-shoes, and nails; coffee -and tea-pots, urns, trays, and canisters; pewter measures; scales and -weights; bed-screws and keys; candlesticks and snuffers; niggards, -generally called niggers (_i. e._, false bottoms for grates); tobacco -and snuff-boxes and spittoons; door-plates, numbers, knockers, and -escutcheons; dog-collars and dog-chains (and other chains); gridirons; -razors; coffee-mills; lamps; swords and daggers; gun and pistol-barrels -and locks (and occasionally the entire weapon); bronze and cast metal -figures; table, chair, and sofa castors; bell-pulls and bells; the -larger buckles and other metal (most frequently brass) articles of -harness furniture; compositors’ sticks (the depositories of the type -in the first instance); the multifarious kinds of tin-wares; stamps; -cork-screws; barrel-taps; ink-stands; a multiplicity of culinary -vessels and of old metal lids; footmen, broken machinery, and parts of -machinery, as odd wheels, and screws of all sizes, &c., &c. - -2. _The Street-Sellers of Old Linen, Cotton, and Woollen Articles_, -such as old sheeting for towels; old curtains of dimity, muslin, -cotton, or moreen; carpeting; blanketing for house-scouring cloths; -ticking for beds and pillows; sacking for different purposes, according -to its substance and quality; fringes; and stocking-legs for the supply -of “jobbing worsted,” and for re-footing. - -I may here observe that in the street-trade, second-hand linen -or cotton is often made to pay a double debt. The shirt-collars -sold, sometimes to a considerable extent and very cheap, in the -street-markets, are made out of linen which has previously been used in -some other form; so is it with white waistcoats and other habiliments. -Of the street-folk who vend such wares I shall speak chiefly in the -fourth division of this subject, viz. the second-hand street-sellers of -miscellaneous articles. - -3. _The Street-Sellers of Old Glass and Crockery_, including the -variety of bottles, odd, or in sets, or in broken sets; pans, pitchers, -wash-hand basins, and other crockery utensils; china ornaments; -pier, convex, and toilet glasses (often without the frames); pocket -ink-bottles; wine, beer, and liqueur glasses; decanters; glass -fish-bowls (occasionally); salt-cellars; sugar-basins; and lamp and gas -glasses. - -4. _The Street-Sellers of Miscellaneous Articles._ These are such as -cannot properly be classed under any of the three preceding heads, -and include a mass of miscellaneous commodities: Accordions and other -musical instruments; brushes of all descriptions; shaving-boxes -and razor-strops; baskets of many kinds; stuffed birds, with and -without frames; pictures, with and without frames; desks, work-boxes, -tea-caddies, and many articles of old furniture; boot-jacks and hooks; -shoe-horns; cartouche-boxes; pocket and opera glasses; rules, and -measures in frames; backgammon, and chess or draught boards and men, -and dice; boxes of dominoes; cribbage-boards and boxes, sometimes -with old packs of cards; pope-boards (boards used in playing the -game of “Pope,” or “Pope Joan,” though rarely seen now); “fish,” or -card counters of bone, ivory, or mother of pearl (an equal rarity); -microscopes (occasionally); an extensive variety of broken or faded -things, new or long kept, such as magic-lanterns, dissected maps or -histories, &c., from the toy warehouses and shops; Dutch clocks; -barometers; wooden trays; shells; music and books (the latter being -often odd volumes of old novels); tee-totums, and similar playthings; -ladies’ head-combs; umbrellas and parasols; fishing-rods and nets; -reins, and other parts of cart, gig, and “two-horse” harness; boxes -full of “odds and ends” of old leather, such as water-pipes; and a mass -of imperfect metal things, which had “better be described,” said an old -dealer, “as from a needle to an anchor.” - -5. _The Street-Sellers of Old Apparel_, including the body habiliments, -constituting alike men’s, women’s, boys’, girls’, and infants’ attire: -as well as hats, caps, gloves, belts, and stockings; shirts and -shirt-fronts (“dickeys”); handkerchiefs, stocks, and neck-ties; furs, -such as victorines, boas, tippets, and edgings; beavers and bonnets; -and the other several, and sometimes not easily describable, articles -which constitute female fashionable or ordinary wear. - -I may here observe, that of the wares which once formed a portion of -the stock of the street-sellers of the fourth and fifth divisions, -but which are now no longer objects of street sale, were, till within -the last few years, fans; back and shoulder boards (to make girls -grow straight!); several things at one time thought indispensable to -every well-nurtured child, such as a coral and bells; belts, sashes, -scabbards, epaulettes, feathers or plumes, hard leather stocks, and -other indications of the volunteer, militia, and general military -spirit of the early part of the present century. - - * * * * * - -Before proceeding immediately with my subject, I may say a few words -concerning what is, in the estimation of some, a _second-hand_ matter. -I allude to the many uses to which that which is regarded, and indeed -termed, “offal,” or “refuse,” or “waste,” is put in a populous city. -This may be evidenced in the multiform uses to which the “offal” of -the animals which are slaughtered for our use are put. It is still -more curiously shown in the uses of the offal of the animals which are -killed, not for our use, but for that of our dogs and cats; and to this -part of the subject I shall more especially confine the remarks I have -to make. My observations on the uses of other waste articles will be -found in another place. - -What in the butcher’s trade is considered the offal of a bullock, was -explained by Mr. Deputy Hicks, before the last Select Committee of -the House of Commons on Smithfield Market: “The carcass,” he said, -“as it hangs clear of everything else, is the carcass, and all else -constitutes the offal.” - -The carcass may be briefly termed the four quarters, whereas the offal -then comprises the hide, which in the average-sized bullock that is -slaughtered in London is worth 12_s._; but with the hide are sold the -horns, which are worth about 10_d._ to the comb-makers, who use them -to make their “tortoise-shell” articles, and for similar purposes. -The hoofs are worth 2_d._ to the glue-makers, or prussiate of potash -manufacturers. What “comes out of a bullock,” to use the trade term, -is the liver, the lights (or lungs), the stomach, the intestinal canal -(sometimes 36 yards when extended), and the gall duct. These portions, -with the legs (called “feet” in the trade), form what is styled the -tripe-man’s portion, and are disposed of to him by the butcher for -5_s._ 6_d._ Separately, the value of the liver is 8_d._, of the lights, -6_d._ (both for dogs’-meat), and of the legs which are worked into -tooth-brush handles, dominoes, &c., 1_s._ The remaining 3_s._ 4_d._ is -the worth of the other portion. The heart averages rather more than -1_s._; the kidneys the same; the head, 1_s._ 9_d._; the blood (which -is “let down the drain” in all but the larger slaughtering houses) -1-1/2_d._ (being 3_d._ for 9 gallons); the tallow (7 stone) 14_s._; and -the tail, I was told, “from nothing to 2_s._,” averaging about 6_d._; -the tongue, 2_s._ 6_d._ Thus the offal sells, altogether, first hand, -for 1_l._ 18_s._ 6_d._ - -I will now show the uses to which what is far more decidedly pronounced -“offal,” and what is much more “second-hand” in popular estimation, -viz., a dead horse, is put, and even a dead horse’s offal, and I will -then show the difference in this curious trade between the Parisian and -London horse offal. - -The greatest horse-slaughtering establishments in France are at -Montfaucon, a short distance from the capital. When the animal has been -killed, it is “cut up,” and the choicer portions of the flesh are eaten -by the work-people of the establishment, and by the hangers-on and -jobbers who haunt the locality of such places, and are often men of a -desperate character. The rest of the carcass is sold for the feeding of -dogs, cats, pigs, and poultry, a portion being also devoted to purposes -of manure. The flesh on a horse of average size and fatness is 350 -lbs., which sells for 1_l._ 12_s._ 6_d._ But this is only one of the -uses of the dead animal. - -The skin is sold to a tanner for 10_s._ 6_d._ The hoofs to a -manufacturer of sal ammonia, or similar preparations, or of Prussian -blue, or to a comb or toy-maker, for 1_s._ 4_d._ The old shoes and the -shoe-nails are worth 2-1/2_d._ The hair of the mane and tail realizes -1-1/2_d._ The tendons are disposed of, either fresh or dried, to -glue-makers for 3_d._--a pound of dried tendons (separated from the -muscles) being about the average per horse. The bones are bought by -the turners, cutlers, fan-makers, and the makers of ivory black and sal -ammoniac, 90 lbs. being an average weight of the animal’s bones, and -realizing 2_s._ The intestines wrought into the different preparations -required of the gut-makers, or for manure, are worth 2_d._ - -The blood is used by the sugar-refiners, and by the fatteners of -poultry, pigeons, and turkeys (which devour it greedily), or else for -manure. When required for manure it is dried--20 lbs. of dried blood, -which is the average weight, being worth 1_s._ 9_d._ The fat is removed -from the carcass and melted down. It is in demand for the making of -gas, of soap, and (when very fine) of--bear’s grease; also for the -dubbing or grease applied to harness and to shoe-leather. This fat when -consumed in lamps communicates a greater portion of heat than does -oil, and is therefore preferred by the makers of glass toys, and by -enamellers and polishers. A horse at Montfaucon has been known to yield -60 lbs. of fat, but this is an extreme case; a yield of 12 lbs. is the -produce of a horse in fair condition, but at these slaughterhouses -there are so many lean and sorry jades that 8 lbs. may be taken as -an average of fat, and at a value of 6_d._ per lb. Nor does the list -end here; the dead and putrid flesh is made to teem with life, and to -produce food for other living creatures. A pile of pieces of flesh, -six inches in height, layer on layer, is slightly covered with hay or -straw; the flies soon deposit their eggs in the attractive matter, -and thus maggots are bred, the most of which are used as food for -pheasants, and in a smaller degree of domestic fowls, and as baits for -fish. These maggots give, or are supposed to give, a “game flavour” to -poultry, and a very “high” flavour to pheasants. One horse’s flesh thus -produces maggots worth 1_s._ 5_d._ The total amount, then, realized on -the dead horse, which may cost 10_s._ 6_d._, is as follows:-- - - £ _s._ _d._ - - The flesh 1 12 6 - The skin 0 10 6 - The hoofs 0 1 4 - The shoes and nails 0 0 2-1/2 - The mane and tail 0 0 1-1/2 - The tendons 0 0 3 - The bones 0 2 0 - The intestines 0 0 2 - The blood 0 1 9 - The fat 0 4 0 - The maggots 0 1 5 - ----------- - £2 14 3 - -The carcass of a French horse is also made available in another -way, and which relates to a subject I have lately treated of--the -destruction of rats; but this is not a regularly-accruing emolument. -Montfaucon swarms with rats, and to kill them the carcass of a horse -is placed in a room, into which the rats gain access through openings -in the floor contrived for the purpose. At night the rats are lured by -their keenness of scent to the room, and lured in numbers; the openings -are then closed, and they are prisoners. In one room 16,000 were killed -in four weeks. The Paris furriers gave from three to four francs for -100 skins, so that, taking the average at 3_s._ of our money, 16,000 -rat-skins would return 24_l._ - -In London the uses of the dead horse’s flesh, bones, blood, &c., are -different. - -Horse-flesh is not--as yet--a portion of human food in this country. In -a recent parliamentary inquiry, witnesses were examined as to whether -horse-flesh was used by the sausage-makers. There was some presumption -that such might be the case, but no direct evidence. I found, however, -among butchers who had the best means of knowing, a strong conviction -that such _was_ the case. One highly-respectable tradesman told me -he was as certain of it as that it was the month of June, though, if -called upon to produce legal evidence proving either that such was the -sausage-makers’ practice, or that this _was_ the month of June, he -might fail in both instances. - -I found among street-people who dealt in provisions a strong, or, at -any rate, a strongly-expressed, opinion that the tongues, kidneys, and -hearts of horses were sold as those of oxen. One man told me, somewhat -triumphantly, as a result of his ingenuity in deduction, that he had -thoughts at one time of trying to establish himself in a cats’-meat -walk, and made inquiries into the nature of the calling: “I’m satisfied -the ’osses’ ’arts,” he said, “is sold for beastesses’; ’cause you see, -sir, there’s nothing as ’ud be better liked for favourite cats and pet -dogs, than a nice piece of ’art, but ven do you see the ’osses’ ’arts -on a barrow? If they don’t go to the cats, vere does they go to? Vy, to -the Christians.” - -I am assured, however, by tradesmen whose interest (to say nothing of -other considerations) would probably make them glad to expose such -practices, that this substitution of the equine for the bovine heart is -not attempted, and is hardly possible. The bullock’s heart, kidneys, -and tongue, are so different in shape (the heart, more especially), and -in the colour of the fat, while the rough tip of the ox’s tongue is not -found in that of the horse, that this second-hand, or offal kind of -animal food could not be palmed off upon any one who had ever purchased -the heart, kidneys, or tongue of an ox. “If the horse’s tongue be used -as a substitute for that of any other,” said one butcher to me, “it -is for the dried reindeer’s--a savoury dish for the breakfast table!” -Since writing the above, I have had convincing proof given me that the -horses’ tongues are cured and sold as “neats.” The heart and kidneys -are also palmed, I find, for those of oxen!! Thus, in one respect, -there is a material difference between the usages, in respect of this -food, between Paris and London. - -One tradesman, in a large way of business--with many injunctions that -I should make no allusion that might lead to his being known, as -he said it might be his ruin, even though he never slaughtered the -meat he sold, but was, in fact, a dead salesman or a vendor of meat -consigned to him--one tradesman, I say, told me that he fancied there -was an _unreasonable_ objection to the eating of horse-flesh among us. -The horse was quite as dainty in his food as the ox, he was quite -as graminivorous, and shrunk more, from a nicer sense of smell, from -anything pertaining to a contact with animal food than did the ox. The -principal objection lies in the number of diseased horses sold at the -knackers. My informant reasoned only from analogy, as he had never -tasted horse-flesh; but a great-uncle of his, he told me, had relished -it highly in the peninsular war. - -The uses to which a horse’s carcass are put in London are these:--The -skin, for tanning, sells for 6_s._ as a low average; the hoofs, for -glue, are worth 2_d._; the shoes and nails, 1-1/2_d._; the mane and -tail, 1-1/2_d._; the bones, which in London (as it was described to -me) are “cracked up” for manure, bring 1_s._ 6_d._; the fat is melted -down and used for cart-grease and common harness oil; one person -acquainted with the trade thought that the average yield of fat was 10 -lbs. per horse (“taking it low”), another that it was 12 lbs. (“taking -it square”), so that if 11 lbs. be accepted as an average, the fat, -at 2_d._ per lb., would realize 1_s._ 10_d._ Of the tendons no use -is made; of the blood none; and no maggots are reared upon putrid -horse-flesh, but a butcher, who had been twenty years a farmer also, -told me that he knew from experience that there was nothing so good as -maggots for the fattening of poultry, and he thought, from what I told -him of maggot-breeding in Montfaucon, that we were _behind_ the French -in this respect. - -Thus the English dead horse--the vendor receiving on an average 1_l._ -from the knacker,--realizes the following amount, without including the -knacker’s profit in disposing of the flesh to the cats’-meat man; but -computing it merely at 2_l._ we have the subjoined receipts:-- - - £ _s._ _d._ - The flesh (averaging 2 cwt., - sold at 2-1/2_d._ per lb.) 2 0 0 - The skin 0 6 0 - The hoofs 0 0 2 - The shoes and nails 0 0 1-1/2 - The bones 0 1 6 - The fat 0 1 10 - The tendons 0 0 0 - The tongue, &c. ----------------- ? - The blood 0 0 0 - The intestines 0 0 0 - ----------------- - £2 9 7-1/2 - -The French dead horse, then, is made a source of nearly 5_s._ -higher receipt than the English. On my inquiring the reason of this -difference, and why the blood, &c., were not made available, I was -told that the demand by the Prussian blue manufacturers and the sugar -refiners was so fully supplied, and over-supplied, from the great -cattle slaughter-houses, that the private butchers, for the trifling -sum to be gained, let the blood be wasted. One bullock slaughterer -in Fox and Knot-yard, who kills 180 cattle in a week, receives only -1_l._ for the blood of the whole number, which is received in a well -in the slaughter-house. The amount paid for blood a few years back was -more than double its present rate. Under these circumstances, I was -told, it would be useless trying to turn the wasted offal of a horse -to any profitable purpose. There is, I am told, on an average, 1000 -horses slaughtered every week in London, and this, at 2_l._ 10_s._ -each animal, would make the value of the dead horses of the metropolis -amount to 130,000_l._ per annum. - -Were it not that I might be dwelling too long on the subject, I might -point out how the offal of the skins was made to subserve other -purposes from the Bermondsey tan-yards; and how the parings and -scrapings went to the makers of glue and size, and the hair to the -builders to mix with lime, &c., &c. - -I may instance another thing in which the worth of what in many places -is valueless refuse is exemplified, in the matter of “waste,” as -waste paper is always called in the trade. Paper in all its glossiest -freshness is but a reproduction of what had become in some measure -“waste,” viz. the rags of the cotton or linen fabric after serving -their original purpose. There is a body of men in London who occupy -themselves entirely in collecting waste paper. It is no matter of what -kind; a small prayer-book, a once perfumed and welcome love-note, -lawyers’ or tailors’ bills, acts of parliament, and double sheets of -the _Times_, form portions of the waste dealer’s stock. Tons upon tons -are thus consumed yearly. Books of every description are ingredients -of this waste, and in every language; modern poems or pamphlets and -old romances (perfect or imperfect), Shakespeare, Molière, Bibles, -music, histories, stories, magazines, tracts to convert the heathen -or to prove how easily and how immensely our national and individual -wealth might be enhanced, the prospectuses of a thousand companies, -each certain to prove a mine of wealth, schemes to pay off the national -debt, or recommendations to wipe it off, auctioneers’ catalogues and -long-kept letters, children’s copy-books and last century ledgers, -printed effusions which have progressed no further than the unfolded -sheets, uncut works and books mouldy from age--all these things are -found in the insatiate bag of the waste collector, who of late has -been worried because he could not supply enough! “I don’t know how it -is, sir,” said one waste collector, with whom I had some conversation -on the subject of street-sold books, with which business he was also -connected, “I can’t make it out, but paper gets scarcer or else I’m out -of luck. Just at this time my family and me really couldn’t live on my -waste if we had to depend entirely upon it.” - -I am assured that in no place in the world is this traffic carried on -to anything approaching the extent that it is in London. When I treat -of the street-buyers I shall have some curious information to publish -on the subject. I do but allude to it here as one strongly illustrative -of “second-hand” appliances. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SECOND-HAND METAL ARTICLES. - -I have in the preceding remarks specified the wares sold by the vendors -of the second-hand articles of metal manufacture, or (as they are -called in the streets) the “old metal” men. The several articles I -have specified may never be all found at one time upon one stall, but -they are all found on the respective stalls. “Aye, sir,” said one old -man whom I conversed with, “and there’s more things every now and then -comes to the stalls, and there used to be still more when I were young, -but I can’t call them all to mind, for times is worse with me, and so -my memory fails. But there used to be a good many bayonets, and iron -tinder-boxes, and steels for striking lights; I can remember them.” - -Some of the sellers have strong heavy barrows, which they wheel from -street to street. As this requires a considerable exertion of strength, -such part of the trade is carried on by strong men, generally of the -costermongering class. The weight to be propelled is about 300 lbs. Of -this class there are now a few, rarely more than half-a-dozen, who sell -on commission in the way I have described concerning the swag-barrowmen. - -These are the “old metal swags” of street classification, but their -remuneration is less fixed than that of the other swag-barrowmen. It is -sometimes a quarter, sometimes a third, and sometimes even a half of -the amount taken. The men carrying on this traffic are the servants of -the marine-store dealers, or vendors of old metal articles, who keep -shops. If one of these people be “lumbered up,” that is, if he find -his stock increase too rapidly, he furnishes a barrow, and sends a man -into the streets with it, to sell what the shopkeeper may find to be -excessive. Sometimes if the tradesman can gain only the merest trifle -more than he could gain from the people who buy for the melting-pot, he -is satisfied. - -There is, or perhaps was, an opinion prevalent that the street “old -metals” in this way of business got rid of stolen goods in such a -manner as the readiest mode of sale, some of which were purposely -rusted, and sold at almost any price, so that they brought but a profit -to the “fence,” whose payment to the thief was little more than the -price of old metal at the foundry. I understand, however, that this -course is not now pursued, nor is it likely that it ever was pursued to -any extent. The street-seller is directly under the eye of the police, -and when there is a search for stolen goods, it is not very likely that -they would be paraded, however battered or rusted for the purpose, -before men who possessed descriptions of all goods stolen. Until the -establishment of the present system of police, this might have been -an occasional practice. One street-seller had even heard, and he “had -it from the man what did it,” that a last-maker’s shop was some years -back broken into in the expectation that money would be met with, but -none was found; and as the thieves could not bring away such heavy -lumbering things as lasts, they cursed their ill-luck, and brought -away such tools as they could stow about their persons, and cover with -their loose great coats. These were the large knives, fixed to swivels, -and resembling a small scythe, used by the artizan to rough hew the -block of beech-wood; and a variety of excellent rasps and files (for -they must be of the best), necessary for the completion of the last. -These very tools were, in ten days after the robbery, sold from a -street-barrow. - -The second-hand metal goods are sold from stalls as well as from -barrows, and these stalls are often tended by women whose husbands may -be in some other branch of street-commerce. One of these stalls I saw -in the care of a stout elderly Jewess, who was fast asleep, nodding -over her locks and keys. She was awakened by the passing policeman, -lest her stock should be pilfered by the boys: “Come, wake up, mother, -and shake yourself,” he said, “I shall catch a weazel asleep next.” - -Some of these barrows and stalls are heaped with the goods, and some -are very scantily supplied, but the barrows are by far the best -stocked. Many of them (especially the swag) look like collections of -the different stages of rust, from its incipient spots to its full -possession of the entire metal. But amongst these seemingly useless -things there is a gleam of brass or plated ware. On one barrow I saw an -old brass door-plate, on which was engraven the name of a late learned -judge, Baron B----; another had formerly announced the residence of a -dignitary of the church, the Rev. Mr. ----. - -The second-hand metal-sellers are to be seen in all the street-markets, -especially on the Saturday nights; also in Poplar, Limehouse, and the -Commercial-road, in Golden-lane, and in Old-street and Old-street-road, -St. Luke’s, in Hoxton and Shoreditch, in the Westminster Broadway, -and the Whitechapel-road, in Rosemary-lane, and in the district -where perhaps every street calling is pursued, but where some -special street-trades seem peculiar to the genius of the place, in -Petticoat-lane. A person unacquainted with the last-named locality may -have formed an opinion that Petticoat-lane is merely a lane or street. -But Petticoat-lane gives its name to a little district. It embraces -Sandys-row, Artillery-passage, Artillery-lane, Frying-pan-alley, -Catherine Wheel-alley, Tripe-yard, Fisher’s-alley, Wentworth-street, -Harper’s-alley, Marlborough-court, Broad-place, Providence-place, -Ellison-street, Swan-court, Little Love-court, Hutchinson-street, -Little Middlesex-street, Hebrew-place, Boar’s-head-yard, -Black-horse-yard, Middlesex-street, Stoney-lane, Meeting-house-yard, -Gravel-lane, White-street, Cutler-street, and Borer’s-lane, until the -wayfarer emerges into what appears the repose and spaciousness of -Devonshire-square, Bishopsgate-street, up Borer’s-lane, or into what -in the contrast really looks like the aristocratic thoroughfare of the -Aldgate High-street, down Middlesex-street; or into Houndsditch through -the halls of the Old Clothes Exchange. - -All these narrow streets, lanes, rows, passages, alleys, yards, courts, -and places, are the sites of the street-trade carried on in this -quarter. The whole neighbourhood rings with street cries, many uttered -in those strange east-end Jewish tones which do not sound like English. -Mixed with the incessant invitations to buy Hebrew dainties, or the -“sheepest pargains,” is occasionally heard the guttural utterance -of the Erse tongue, for the “native Irish,” as they are sometimes -called, are in possession of some portion of the street-traffic of -Petticoat-lane, the original Rag Fair. The savour of the place is -moreover peculiar. There is fresh fish, and dried fish, and fish being -fried in a style peculiar to the Jews; there is the fustiness of old -clothes; there is the odour from the pans on which (still in the Jewish -fashion) frizzle and hiss pieces of meat and onions; puddings are -boiling and enveloped in steam; cakes with strange names are hot from -the oven; tubs of big pickled cucumbers or of onions give a sort of -acidity to the atmosphere; lemons and oranges abound; and altogether -the scene is not only such as can only be seen in London, but only such -as can be seen in this one part of the metropolis. - -When I treat of the street-Jews, I shall have information highly -curious to communicate, and when I come to the fifth division of my -present subject, I shall more particularly describe Petticoat-lane, as -the head-quarters of the second-hand clothes business. - -I have here alluded to the character of this quarter as being one -much resorted to formerly, and still largely used by the sellers of -second-hand metal goods. Here I was informed that a strong-built man, -known as Jack, or (appropriately enough) as Iron Jack, had, until -his death six or seven years ago, one of the best-stocked barrows in -London. This, in spite of remonstrances, and by a powerful exercise of -his strength, the man lifted, as it were, on to the narrow foot-path, -and every passer-by had his attention directed almost perforce to the -contents of the barrow, for he must make a “_detour_” to advance on -his way. One of this man’s favourite pitches was close to the lofty -walls of what, before the change in their charter, was one of the -East India Company’s vast warehouses. The contrast to any one who -indulged a thought on the subject--and there is great food for thought -in Petticoat-lane--was striking enough. Here towered the store-house -of costly teas, and silks, and spices, and indigo; while at its foot -was carried on the most minute, and apparently worthless of all -street-trades, rusty screws and nails, such as only few would care to -pick up in the street, being objects of earnest bargaining! - -An experienced man in the business, who thought he was “turned 50, or -somewhere about that,” gave me the following account of his trade, his -customers, &c. - -“I’ve been in most street-trades,” he said, “and was born to it, like, -for my mother was a rag-gatherer--not a bad business once--and I helped -her. I never saw my father, but he was a soldier, and it’s supposed -lost his life in foreign parts. No, I don’t remember ever having heard -what foreign parts, and it don’t matter. Well, perhaps, this is about -as tidy a trade for a bit of bread as any that’s going now. Perhaps -selling fish may be better, but that’s to a man what knows fish well. -I can’t say I ever did. I’m more a dab at cooking it (with a laugh). I -like a bloater best on what’s an Irish gridiron. Do you know what that -is, sir? I know, though I’m not Irish, but I married an Irish wife, and -as good a woman as ever was a wife. It’s done on the tongs, sir, laid -across the fire, and the bloater’s laid across the tongs. Some says -it’s best turned and turned very quick on the coals themselves, but -the tongs is best, for you can raise or lower.” [My informant seemed -interested in his account of this and other modes of cookery, which I -need not detail.] “This is really a very trying trade. O, I mean it -tries a man’s patience so. Why, it was in Easter week a man dressed -like a gentleman--but I don’t think he was a real gentleman--looked -out some bolts, and a hammer head, and other things, odds and ends, -and they came to 10-1/2_d._ He said he’d give 6_d._ ‘Sixpence!’ says -I; ‘why d’ you think I stole ’em?’ ‘Well,’ says he, ‘if I didn’t think -you’d stole ’em, I shouldn’t have come to _you_.’ I don’t think he was -joking. Well, sir, we got to high words, and I said, ‘Then I’m d--d -if you have them for less than 1_s._’ And a bit of a crowd began to -gather, they was most boys, but the p’liceman came up, as slow as you -please, and so my friend flings down 1_s._, and puts the things in his -pocket and marches off, with a few boys to keep him company. That’s the -way one’s temper’s tried. Well, it’s hard to say what sells best. A -latch-lock and keys goes off quick. I’ve had them from 2_d._ to 6_d._; -but it’s only the lower-priced things as sells now in any trade. Bolts -is a fairish stock, and so is all sorts of tools. Well, not saws so -much as such things as screwdrivers, or hammers, or choppers, or tools -that if they’re rusty people can clean up theirselves. Saws ain’t so -easy to manage; bed-keys is good. No, I don’t clean the metal up unless -it’s very bad; I think things don’t sell so well that way. People’s -jealous that they’re just done up on purpose to deceive, though they -may cost only 1_d._ or 2_d._ There’s that cheese-cutter now, it’s -getting rustier and there’ll be very likely a better chance to sell it. -This is how it is, sir, I know. You see if a man’s going to buy old -metal, and he sees it all rough and rusty, he says to himself, ‘Well, -there’s no gammon about it; I can just see what it is.’ Then folks -like to clean up a thing theirselves, and it’s as if it was something -made from their own cleverness. That was just my feeling, sir, when -I bought old metals for my own use, before I was in the trade, and I -goes by that. O, working people’s by far my best customers. Many of -’em’s very fond of jobbing about their rooms or their houses, and they -come to such as me. Then a many has fancies for pigeons, or rabbits, -or poultry, or dogs, and they mostly make up the places for them -theirselves, and as money’s an object, why them sort of fancy people -buys hinges, and locks, and screws, and hammers, and what they want of -me. A clever mechanic can turn his hand to most things that he wants -for his own use. I know a shoemaker that makes beautiful rabbit-hutches -and sells them along with his prize cattle, as I calls his great big -long-eared rabbits. Perhaps I take 2_s._ 6_d._ or 3_s._ a day, and it’s -about half profit. Yes, this time of the year I make good 10_s._ 6_d._ -a week, but in winter not 1_s._ a day. That would be very poor pickings -for two people to live on, and I can’t do without my drop of beer, but -my wife has constant work with a first-rate laundress at Mile End, and -so we rub on, for we’ve no family living.” - -This informant told me further of the way in which the old metal stocks -sold in the streets were provided; but that branch of the subject -relates to street-buying. Some of the street-sellers, however, buy -their stocks of the shopkeepers. - -I find a difficulty in estimating the number of the second-hand -metal-ware street-sellers. Many of the stalls or barrows are the -property of the marine-store shopkeepers, or old metal dealers (marine -stores being about the only things the marine-store men do not sell), -and these are generally placed near the shop, being indeed a portion -of its contents out of doors. Some of the marine-store men (a class of -traders, by the by, not superior to street-sellers, making no “odious” -comparison as to the honesty of the two), when they have purchased -largely--the refuse iron for instance after a house has been pulled -down--establish two or three pitches in the street, confiding the -stalls or barrows to their wives and children. I was told by several -in the trade that there were 200 old metal sellers in the streets, but -from the best information at my command not more than 50 appear to be -strictly _street_-sellers, unconnected with shop-keeping. Estimating -a weekly receipt, per individual, of 15_s._ (half being profit), the -yearly street outlay among this body alone amounts to 1950_l._ - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SECOND-HAND METAL TRAYS, &c. - -There are still some few portions of the old metal trade in the streets -which require specific mention. - -Among these is the sale of second-hand trays, occasionally with such -things as bread-baskets. Instead of these wares, however, being matters -of daily traffic, they are offered in the streets only at intervals, -and generally on the Saturday and Monday evenings, while a few are -hawked to public-houses. An Irishman, a rather melancholy looking -man, but possessed of some humour, gave me the following account. His -dress was a worn suit, such as masons work in; but I have seldom seen -so coarse, and never on an Irishman of his class, except on a Sunday, -so clean a shirt, and he made as free a display of it as if it were -the choicest cambric. He washed it, he told me, with his own hands, -as he had neither wife, nor mother, nor sister. “I was a cow-keeper’s -man, your honour,” he said, “and he sent milk to Dublin. I thought I -might do betthur, and I got to Liverpool, and walked here. Have I done -betthur, is it? Sorry a betthur. Would I like to returren to Dublin? -Well, perhaps, plaze God, I’ll do betthur here yit. I’ve sould a power -of different things in the sthreets, but I’m off for counthry work -now. I have a few therrays left if your honour wants such a thing. I -first sould a few for a man I lodged along wid in Kent-street, when -he was sick, and so I got to know the therrade. He tould me to say, -and it’s the therruth, if anybody said, ‘They’re only second-hand,’ -that they was all the betthur for that, for if they hadn’t been real -good therrays at first, they would niver have lived to be second-hand -ones. I calls the bigghur therrays butlers, and the smhaller, waithers. -It’s a poor therrade. One woman’ll say, ‘Pooh! ould-fashioned things.’ -‘Will, thin, ma’am,’ I’ll say, ‘a good thing like this is niver -ould-fashioned, no more than the bhutiful mate and berrid, and the -bhutiful new praties a coming in, that you’ll be atin off of it, and -thratin’ your husband to, God save him. No lady iver goes to supper -widout her therray.’ Yes, indeed, thin, and it is a poor therrade. It’s -the bhutiful therrays I’ve sould for 6_d._ I buys them of a shop which -dales in sich things. The perrofit! Sorry a perrofit is there in it at -all at all; but I thries to make 4_d._ out of 1_s._ If I makes 6_d._ of -a night it’s good worruk.” - -These trays are usually carried under the arm, and are sometimes piled -on a stool or small stand, in a street market. The prices are from -2_d._ to 10_d._, sometimes 1_s._ The stronger descriptions are sold to -street-sellers to display their goods upon, as much as to any other -class. Women and children occasionally sell them, but it is one of the -callings which seems to be disappearing from the streets. From two men, -who were familiar with this and other second-hand trades, I heard the -following reasons assigned for the decadence. One man thought it was -owing to “swag-trays” being got up so common and so cheap, but to look -“stunning well,” at least as long as the shininess lasted. The other -contended that poor working people had enough to do now-a-days to get -something to eat, without thinking of a tray to put it on. - -If 20 persons, and that I am told is about the number of sellers, take -in the one or two nights’ sale 4_s._ a week each, on second-hand trays -(33 per cent. being the rate of profit), the street expenditure is -208_l._ in a year. - -In other second-hand metal articles there is now and then a separate -trade. Two or three sets of small _fire-irons_ may be offered in a -street-market on a Saturday night; or a small stock of _flat and -Italian irons_ for the laundresses, who work cheap and must buy -second-hand; or a _collection of tools_ in the same way; but these -are accidental sales, and are but ramifications from the general “old -metal” trade that I have described. Perhaps, in the sale of these -second-hand articles, 20 people may be regularly employed, and 300_l._ -yearly may be taken. - -In Petticoat-lane, Rosemary-lane, Whitecross-street, Ratcliff-highway, -and in the street-markets generally, are to be seen men, women, and -children selling _dinner knives and forks, razors, pocket-knives, and -scissors_. The pocket-knives and scissors are kept well oiled, so that -the weather does not rust them. These goods have been mostly repaired, -ground, and polished for street-commerce. The women and children -selling these articles are the wives and families of the men who -repair, grind, and polish them, and who belong, correctly speaking, -to the class of street-artizans, under which head they will be more -particularly treated of. It is the same also with the street-vendors -of second-hand tin saucepans and other vessels (a trade, by the way, -which is rapidly decreasing), for these are generally made of the old -drums of machines retinned, or are old saucepans and pots mended for -use by the vendors, who are mostly working tinmen, and appertain to the -artizan class. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SECOND-HAND LINEN, &c. - -I now come to the second variety of the several kinds of street-sellers -of second-hand articles. The accounts of the street-trade in -second-hand linens, however, need be but brief; for none of the -callings I have now to notice supply a mode of subsistence to the -street-sellers independently of other pursuits. They are resorted to -whenever an opportunity or a prospect of remuneration presents itself -by the class of general street-sellers, women as well as men--the women -being the most numerous. The sale of these articles is on the Saturday -and Monday nights, in the street-markets, and daily in Petticoat and -Rosemary lanes. - -One of the most saleable of all the second-hand textile commodities of -the streets, is an article the demand for which is certainly creditable -to the poorer and the working-classes of London--_towels_. The -principal supply of this street-towelling is obtained from the several -barracks in and near London. They are a portion of what were the -sheets (of strong linen) of the soldiers’ beds, which are periodically -renewed, and the old sheeting is then sold to a contractor, of whom the -street-folk buy it, and wash and prepare it for market. It is sold to -the street-traders at 4_d._ per pound, 1 lb. making eight penny towels; -some (inferior) is as low as 2_d._ The principal demand is by the -working-classes. - -“Why, for one time, sir,” said a street-seller to me, “there wasn’t -much towelling in the streets, and I got a tidy lot, just when I -knew it would go off, like a thief round a corner. I pitched in -Whitecross-street, and not far from a woman that was making a great -noise, and had a good lot of people about her, for cheap mackarel -weren’t so very plenty then as they are now. ‘Here’s your cheap -mack’rel,’ shouts she, ‘cheap, cheap, cheap mac-mac-mac-_mack_’rel. -Then _I_ begins: ‘Here’s your cheap towelling; cheap, cheap, cheap, -tow-tow-tow-_tow_-ellings. Here’s towels a penny a piece, and two for -twopence, or a double family towel for twopence.’ I soon had a greater -crowd than she had. O, yes! I gives ’em a good history of what I has -to sell; patters, as you call it; a man that can’t isn’t fit for the -streets. ‘Here’s what every wife should buy for her husband, and every -husband for his wife,’ I goes on. ‘Domestic happiness is then secured. -If a husband licks his wife, or a wife licks her husband, a towel is -the handiest and most innocent thing it can be done with, and if it’s -wet it gives you a strong clipper on the cheek, as every respectable -married person knows as well as I do. A clipper that way always does me -good, and I’m satisfied it does more good to a gentleman than a lady.’ -Always patter for the women, sir, if you wants to sell. Yes, towels is -good sale in London, but I prefer country business. I’m three times -as much in the country as in town, and I’m just off to Ascot to sell -cards, and do a little singing, and then I’ll perhaps take a round to -Bath and Bristol, but Bath’s not what it was once.” - -Another street-seller told me that, as far as his experience went, -Monday night was a better time for the sale of second-hand sheetings, -&c., than Saturday, as on Monday the wives of the working-classes who -sought to buy cheaply what was needed for household use, usually went -out to make their purchases. The Saturday-night’s mart is more one for -immediate necessities, either for the Sunday’s dinner or the Sunday’s -wear. It appears to me that in all these little distinctions--of -which street-folk tell you, quite unconscious that they tell anything -new--there is something of the history of the character of a people. - -“Wrappers,” or “bale-stuff,” as it is sometimes styled, are also sold -in the streets as second-hand goods. These are what have formed the -covers of the packages of manufactures, and are bought (most frequently -by the Jews) at the wholesale warehouses or the larger retail shops, -and re-sold to the street-people, usually at 1-1/2_d._ and 2_d._ per -pound. These goods are sometimes sold entire, but are far more often -cut into suitable sizes for towels, strong aprons, &c. They soon get -“bleached,” I was told, by washing and wear. - -_“Burnt” linen or calico_ is also sold in the streets as a second-hand -article. On the occasion of a fire at any tradesman’s, whose stock of -drapery had been injured, the damaged wares are bought by the Jewish or -other keepers of the haberdashery swag-shops. Some of these are sold -by the second-hand street dealers, but the traffic for such articles -is greater among the hawkers. Of this I have already given an account. -The street-sale of these burnt (and sometimes _designedly_ burnt) wares -is in pieces, generally from 6_d._ to 1_s._ 6_d._ each, or in yards, -frequently at 6_d._ per yard, but of course the price varies with the -quality. - -I believe that no _second-hand sheets_ are sold in the streets as -sheets, for when tolerably good they are received at the pawn-shops, -and if indifferent, at the dolly-shops, or illegal pawn-shops. Street -folk have told me of sheets being sold in the street-markets, but so -rarely as merely to supply an exception. In Petticoat-lane, indeed, -they are sold, but it is mostly by the Jew shopkeepers, who also expose -their goods in the streets, and they are sold by them very often to -street-traders, who convert them into other purposes. - -The statistics of this trade present great difficulties. The -second-hand linen, &c., is not a regular street traffic. It may be -offered to the public 20 days or nights in a month, or not one. If a -“job-lot” have been secured, the second-hand street-seller may confine -himself to that especial stock. If his means compel him to offer only -a paucity of second-hand goods, he may sell but one kind. Generally, -however, the same man or woman trades in two, three, or more of the -second-hand textile productions which I have specified, and it is -hardly one street-seller out of 20, who if he have cleared his 10_s._ -in a given time, by vending different articles, can tell the relative -amount he cleared on each. The trade is, therefore, irregular, and is -but a consequence, or--as one street-seller very well expressed it--a -“tail” of other trades. For instance, if there has been a great auction -of any corn-merchant’s effects, there will be more sacking than usual -in the street-markets; if there have been sales, beyond the average -extent, of old household furniture, there will be a more ample street -stock of curtains, carpeting, fringes, &c. Of the articles I have -enumerated the sale of second-hand linen, more especially that from the -barrack-stores, is the largest of any. - -The most intelligent man whom I met with in this trade calculated that -there were 80 of these second-hand street-folk plying their trade two -nights in the week; that they took 8_s._ each weekly, about half of it -being profit; thus the street expenditure would be 1664_l._ per annum. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SECOND-HAND CURTAINS. - -Second-Hand Curtains, but only good ones, I was assured, can now be -sold in the streets, “because common new ones can be had so cheap.” -The “good second-hands,” however, sell readily. The most saleable of -all second-hand curtains are those of chintz, especially old-fashioned -chintz, now a scarce article; the next in demand are what were -described to me as “good check,” or the blue and white cotton curtains. -White dimity curtains, though now rarely seen in a street-market, -are not bought to be re-used as curtains--“there’s too much washing -about them for London”--but for petticoats, the covering of large -pincushions, dressing-table covers, &c., and for the last-mentioned -purpose they are bought by the householders of a small tenement who let -a “well-furnished” bed-room or two. - -The uses to which the second-hand chintz or check curtains are put, -are often for “Waterloo” or “tent” beds. It is common for a single -woman, struggling to “get a decent roof over her head,” or for a -young couple wishing to improve their comforts in furniture, to do so -piece-meal. An old bedstead of a better sort may first be purchased, -and so on to the concluding “decency,” or, in the estimation of some -poor persons, “dignity” of curtains. These persons are customers of the -street-sellers--the second-hand curtains costing them from 8_d._ to -1_s._ 6_d._ - -Moreen curtains have also a good sale. They are bought by working -people (and by some of the dealers in second-hand furniture) for the -re-covering of sofas, which had become ragged, the deficiency of -stuffing being supplied with hay (which is likewise the “stuffing” of -the new sofas sold by the “linen-drapers,” or “slaughter-houses”). -Moreen curtains, too, are sometimes cut into pieces, for the -re-covering of old horse-hair chairs, for which purpose they are sold -at 3_d._ each piece. - -Second-hand curtains are moreover cut into portions and sold for the -hanging of the testers of bedsteads, but almost entirely for what -the street-sellers call “half-teesters.” These are required for the -Waterloo bedsteads, “and if it’s a nice thing, sir,” said one woman, -“and perticler if it’s a chintz, and to be had for 6_d._, the women’ll -fight for it.” - -The second-hand curtains, when sold entire, are from 6_d._ to 2_s._ -6_d._ One man had lately sold a pair of “good moreens, only faded, but -dyeing’s cheap,” for 3_s._ 6_d._ - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SECOND-HAND CARPETING, FLANNELS, -STOCKING-LEGS, &c., &c. - -I class these second-hand wares together, as they are all of woollen -materials. - -_Carpeting_ has a fair sale, and in the streets is vended not as an -entire floor or stair-carpet, but in pieces. The floor-carpet pieces -are from 2_d._ to 1_s._ each; the stair-carpet pieces are from 1_d._ to -4_d._ a yard. Hearth-rugs are very rarely offered to street-customers, -but when offered are sold from 4_d._ to 1_s._ Drugget is also sold in -the same way as the floor-carpeting, and sometimes for house-scouring -cloths. - -“I’ve sold carpet, sir,” said a woman street-seller, who called all -descriptions--rugs and drugget too--by that title; “and I would like to -sell it regular, but my old man--he buys everything--says it can’t be -had regular. I’ve sold many things in the streets, but I’d rather sell -good second-hand in carpet or curtains, or fur in winter, than anything -else. They’re nicer people as buys them. It would be a good business -if it was regular. Ah! indeed, in my time, and before I was married, -I have sold different things in a different way; but I’d rather not -talk about that, and I make no complaints, for seeing what I see. -I’m not so badly off. Them as buys carpet are very particular--I’ve -known them take a tape out of their pockets and measure--but they’re -honourable customers. If they’re satisfied they buy, most of them does, -at once; without any of your ‘is that the lowest?’ as ladies asks in -shops, and that when they don’t think of buying, either. Carpet is -bought by working people, and they use it for hearth-rugs, and for -bed-sides, and such like. I know it by what I’ve heard them say when -I’ve been selling. One Monday evening, five or six years back, I took -10_s._ 9_d._ in carpet; there had been some great sales at old houses, -and a good quantity of carpet and curtains was sold in the streets. -Perhaps I cleared 3_s._ 6_d._ on that 10_s._ 9_d._ But to take 4_s._ -or 5_s._ is good work now, and often not more than 3_d._ in the 1_s._ -profit. Still, it’s a pretty good business, when you can get a stock of -second-hands of different kinds to keep you going constantly.” - -What in the street-trade is known as “_Flannels_,” is for the most part -second-hand blankets, which having been worn as bed furniture, and then -very probably, or at the same time, used for ironing cloths, are found -in the street-markets, where they are purchased for flannel petticoats -for the children of the poor, or when not good enough for such use, for -house cloths, at 1_d._ each. - -The trade in _stocking legs_ is considerable. In these legs the feet -have been cut off, further darning being impossible, and the fragment -of the stocking which is worth preserving is sold to the careful -housewives who attach to it a new foot. Sometimes for winter wear a -new cheap sock is attached to the footless hose. These legs sell from -1/2_d._ to 3_d._ the pair, but very rarely 3_d._, and only when of the -best quality, though the legs would not be saleable in the streets at -all, had they not been of a good manufacture originally. Men’s hose are -sold in this way more largely than women’s. - -The trade in second-hand stockings is very considerable, but they form -a part of the second-hand apparel of street-commerce, and I shall -notice them under that head. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SECOND-HAND BED-TICKING, SACKING, FRINGE, &c. - -For _bed-ticking_ there is generally a ready sale, but I was told “not -near so ready as it was a dozen year or more back.” One reason which -I heard assigned for this was, that new ticking was made so cheap -(being a thin common cotton, for the lining of common carpet-bags, -portmanteaus, &c.), that poor persons scrupled to give any equivalent -price for good sound second-hand linen bed-ticking, “though,” said a -dealer, “it’ll still wear out half a dozen of their new slop rigs. I -should like a few of them there slop-masters, that’s making fortins out -of foolish or greedy folks, to have to live a few weeks in the streets -by this sort of second-hand trade; they’d hear what was thought of them -then by all sensible people, which aren’t so many as they should be by -a precious long sight.” - -The ticking sold in the street is bought for the patching of beds and -for the making of pillows and bolsters, and for these purposes is -sold in pieces at from 2_d._ to 4_d._ as the most frequent price. One -woman who used to sell bed-ticking, but not lately, told me that she -knew poor women who cared nothing for such convenience themselves, buy -ticking to make pillows for their children. - -_Second-hand Sacking_ is sold without much difficulty in the -street-markets, and usually in pieces at from 2_d._ to 6_d._ This -sacking has been part of a corn sack, or of the strong package in which -some kinds of goods are dispatched by sea or railway. It is bought for -the mending of bedstead sacking, and for the making of porters’ knots, -&c. - -_Second-hand Fringe_ is still in fair demand, but though cheaper than -ever, does not, I am assured, “sell so well as when it was dearer.” -Many of my readers will have remarked, when they have been passing the -apartments occupied by the working class, that the valance fixed from -the top of the window has its adornment of fringe; a blind is sometimes -adorned in a similar manner, and so is the valance from the tester of -a bedstead. For such uses the second-hand fringe is bought in the -street-markets in pieces, sometimes called “quantities,” of from 1_d._ -to 1_s._ - -_Second-hand Table-cloths_ used to be an article of street-traffic -to some extent. If offered at all now--and one man, though he was a -regular street-seller, thought he had not seen one offered in a market -this year--they are worn things such as will not be taken by the -pawnbrokers, while the dolly-shop people would advance no more than the -table-cloth might be worth for the rag-bag. _The glazed table-covers_, -now in such general use, are not as yet sold second-hand in the streets. - -I was told by a street-seller that he had heard an old man (since -dead), who was a buyer of second-hand goods, say that in the old times, -after a great sale by auction--as at Wanstead-house (Mr. Wellesley -Pole’s), about 30 years ago--the open-air trade was very brisk, as the -street-sellers, like the shop-traders, proclaimed all their second-hand -wares as having been bought at “the great sale.” For some years no such -“_ruse_” has been practised by street-folk. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SECOND-HAND GLASS AND CROCKERY. - -These sellers are another class who are fast disappearing from the -streets of London. Before glass and crockery, but more especially -glass, became so low-priced when new, the second-hand glass-man was -one of the most prosperous of the open-air traders; he is now so much -the reverse that he must generally mix up some other calling with -his original business. One man, whose address was given to me as an -experienced glass-man, I found selling mackarel and “pound crabs,” -and complaining bitterly that mackarel were high, and that he could -make nothing out of them that week at 2_d._ each, for poor persons, he -told me, would not give more. “Yes, sir,” he said, “I’ve been in most -trades, besides having been a pot-boy, both boy and man, and I don’t -like this fish-trade at all. I could get a pot-boy’s place again, but -I’m not so strong as I were, and it’s slavish work in the place I could -get; and a man that’s not so young as he was once is chaffed so by the -young lads and fellows in the tap-room and the skittle-ground. For this -last three year or more I had to do something in addition to my glass -for a crust. Before I dropped it as a bad consarn, I sold old shoes as -well as old glass, and made both ends meet that way, a leather end and -a glass end. I sold off my glass to a rag and bottle shop for 9_s._, -far less than it were worth, and I swopped my shoes for my fish-stall, -and water-tub, and 3_s._ in money. I’ll be out of this trade before -long. The glass was good once; I’ve made my 15_s._ and 20_s._ a week -at it: I don’t know how long that is ago, but it’s a good long time. -Latterly I could do no business at all in it, or hardly any. The old -shoes was middling, because they’re a free-selling thing, but somehow -it seems awkward mixing up any other trade with your glass.” - -The stall or barrow of a “second-hand glass-man” presented, and still, -in a smaller degree, presents, a variety of articles, and a variety -of colours, but over the whole prevails that haziness which seems to -be considered proper to this trade. Even in the largest rag and bottle -shops, the second-hand bottles always look dingy. “It wouldn’t pay to -wash them all,” said one shopkeeper to me, “so we washes none; indeed, -I b’lieve people would rather buy them as they is, and clean them -themselves.” - -The street-assortment of second-hand glass may be described as one of -“odds and ends”--odd goblets, odd wine-glasses, odd decanters, odd -cruet-bottles, salt-cellars, and mustard-pots; together with a variety -of “tops” to fit mustard-pots or butter-glasses, and of “stoppers” to -fit any sized bottle, the latter articles being generally the most -profitable. Occasionally may still be seen a blue spirit-decanter, -one of a set of three, with “brandy,” in faded gold letters, upon it, -or a brass or plated label, as dingy as the bottle, hung by a fine -wire-chain round the neck. Blue finger-glasses sold very well for use -as sugar-basins to the wives of the better-off working-people or small -tradesmen. One man, apparently about 40, who had been in this trade -in his youth, and whom I questioned as to what was the quality of his -stock, told me of the demand for “blue sugars,” and pointed out to me -one which happened to be on a stand by the door of a rag and bottle -shop. When I mentioned its original use, he asked further about it, -and after my answers seemed sceptical on the subject. “People that’s -quality,” he said, “that’s my notion on it, that hasn’t neither to yarn -their dinner, nor to cook it, but just open their mouths and eat it, -can’t dirty their hands so at dinner as to have glasses to wash ’em in -arterards. But there’s queer ways everywhere.” - -At one time what were called “doctors’ bottles” formed a portion of -the second-hand stock I am describing. These were phials bought by -the poorer people, in which to obtain some physician’s gratuitous -prescription from the chemist’s shop, or the time-honoured nostrum of -some wonderful old woman. For a very long period, it must be borne in -mind, all kinds of glass wares were dear. Small glass frames, to cover -flower-roots, were also sold at these stalls, as were fragments of -looking-glass. Beneath his stall or barrow, the “old glass-man” often -had a few old wine or beer-bottles for sale. - -At the period before cast-glass was so common, and, indeed, -subsequently, until glass became cheap, it was not unusual to see at -the second-hand stalls, rich cut-glass vessels which had been broken -and cemented, for sale at a low figure, the glass-man being often a -mender. It was the same with China punch-bowls, and the costlier kind -of dishes, but this part of the trade is now unknown. - -There is one curious sort of ornament still to be met with at these -stalls--wide-mouthed bottles, embellished with coloured patterns of -flowers, birds, &c., generally cut from “furniture prints,” and kept -close against the sides of the interior by the salt with which the -bottles are filled. A few second-hand pitchers, teapots, &c., are still -sold at from 1_d._ to 6_d._ - -There are now not above six men (of the ordinary street-selling -class) who carry on this trade regularly. Sometimes twelve stalls or -barrows may be seen; sometimes one, and sometimes none. Calculating -that each of the six dealers takes 12_s._ weekly, with a profit of -6_s._ or 7_s._, we find 187_l._ 4_s._ expended in this department of -street-commerce. The principal place for the trade is in High-street, -Whitechapel. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SECOND-HAND MISCELLANEOUS ARTICLES. - -I have in a former page specified some of the goods which make up the -sum of the second-hand miscellaneous commerce of the streets of London. - -I may premise that the trader of this class is a sort of street broker; -and it is no more possible minutely to detail his especial traffic -in the several articles of his stock, than it would be to give a -specific account of each and several of the “sundries” to be found in -the closets or corners of an old-furniture broker’s or marine-store -seller’s premises, in describing his general business. - -The members of this trade (as will be shown in the subsequent -statements) are also “miscellaneous” in their character. A few have -known liberal educations, and have been established in liberal -professions; others have been artisans or shopkeepers, but the mass are -of the general class of street-sellers. - -I will first treat of the _Second-Hand Street-Sellers of Articles for -Amusement_, giving a wide interpretation to the word “amusement.” - -The backgammon, chess, draught, and cribbage-boards of the second-hand -trade have originally been of good quality--some indeed of a very -superior manufacture; otherwise the “cheap Germans” (as I heard -the low-priced foreign goods from the swag-shops called) would by -their superior cheapness have rendered the business a nullity. The -backgammon-boards are bought of brokers, when they are often in a worn, -unhinged, and what may be called ragged condition. The street-seller -“trims them up,” but in this there is nothing of artisanship, although -it requires some little taste and some dexterity of finger. A new hinge -or two, or old hinges re-screwed, and a little pasting of leather and -sometimes the application of strips of bookbinder’s gold, is all that -is required. The backgammon-boards are sometimes offered in the streets -by an itinerant; sometimes (and more frequently than otherwise in a -deplorable state, the points of the table being hardly distinguishable) -they are part of the furniture of a second-hand stall. I have seen one -at an old book-stall, but most usually they are vended by being hawked -to the better sort of public-houses, and there they are more frequently -disposed of by raffle than by sale. It is not once in a thousand times, -I am informed, that second-hand “men” are sold with the board. Before -the board has gone through its series of hands to the street-seller, -the men have been lost or scattered. New men are sometimes sold or -raffled with the backgammon-boards (as with the draught) at from 6_d._ -to 2_s._ 6_d._ the set, the best being of box-wood. - -Chess-boards and men--for without the men of course a draught, or -the top of a backgammon-board suffices for chess--are a commodity now -rarely at the disposal of the street-sellers; and, as these means -of a leisurely and abstruse amusement are not of a ready sale, the -second-hand dealers do not “look out” for them, but merely speculate -in them when the article “falls in their way” and seems a palpable -bargain. Occasionally, a second-hand chess apparatus is still sold -by the street-folk. One man--upon whose veracity I have every reason -to rely--told me that he once sold a beautiful set of ivory men and -a handsome “leather board” (second-hand) to a gentleman who accosted -him as he saw him carry them along the street for sale, inviting him -to step in doors, when the gentleman’s residence was reached. The -chess-men were then arranged and examined, and the seller asked 3_l._ -3_s._ for them, at once closing with the offer of 3_l._; “for I found, -sir,” he said, “I had a gentleman to do with, for he told me he thought -they were really cheap at 3_l._, and he would give me that.” Another -dealer in second-hand articles, when I asked him if he had ever sold -chess-boards and men, replied, “Only twice, sir, and then at 4_s._ and -5_s._ the set; they was poor. I’ve seen chess played, and I should say -it’s a rum game; but I know nothing about it. I once had a old gent for -a customer, and he was as nice and quiet a old gent as could be, and -I always called on him when I thought I had a curus old tea-caddy, or -knife-box, or anything that way. He didn’t buy once in twenty calls, -but he always gave me something for my trouble. He used to play at -chess with another old gent, and if, after his servant had told him I’d -come, I waited ’til I could wait no longer, and then knocked at his -room door, he swore like a trooper.” - -Draught-boards are sold at from 3_d._ to 1_s._ second-hand. -Cribbage-boards, also second-hand, and sometimes with cards, are only -sold, I am informed, when they are very bad, at from 1_d._ to 3_d._, -or very good, at from 2_s._ 6_d._ to 5_s._ One street-seller told me -that he once sold a “Chinee” cribbage-board for 18_s._, which cost -him 10_s._ “It was a most beautiful thing,” he stated, “and was very -high-worked, and was inlaid with ivory, and with green ivory too.” - -The Dice required for the playing of backgammon, or for any purpose, -are bought of the waiters at the club-houses, generally at 2_l._ the -dozen sets. They are retailed at about 25 per cent. profit. Dice in -this way are readily disposed of by the street-people, as they are -looked upon as “true,” and are only about a sixth of the price they -could be obtained for new ones in the duly-stamped covers. A few dice -are sold at 6_d._ to 1_s._ the set, but they are old and battered. - -There are but two men who support themselves wholly by the street-sale -and the hawking of the different boards, &c., I have described. There -are two, three, or sometimes four occasional participants in the -trade. Of these one held a commission in Her Majesty’s service, but -was ruined by gaming, and when unable to live by any other means, he -sells the implements with which he had been but too familiar. “He lost -everything in Jermyn-street,” a man who was sometimes his comrade in -the sale of these articles said to me, “but he is a very gentlemanly -and respectable man.” - -The profits in this trade are very uncertain. A man who was engaged -in it told me that one week he had cleared 2_l._, and the next, with -greater pains-taking, did not sell a single thing. - -The other articles which are a portion of the second-hand miscellaneous -trade of this nature are sold as often, or more often, at stalls than -elsewhere. Dominoes, for instance, may be seen in the winter, and they -are offered only in the winter, on perhaps 20 stalls. They are sold at -from 4_d._ a set, and I heard of one superior set which were described -to me as “brass-pinned,” being sold in a handsome box for 5_s._, -the shop price having been 15_s._ The great sale of dominoes is at -Christmas. - -Pope-Joan boards, which, I was told, were fifteen years ago sold -readily in the streets, and were examined closely by the purchasers -(who were mostly the wives of tradesmen), to see that the print -or paint announcing the partitions for “intrigue,” “matrimony,” -“friendship,” “Pope,” &c., were perfect, are now never, or rarely, -seen. Formerly the price was 1_s._ to 1_s._ 9_d._ In the present year I -could hear of but one man who had even offered a Pope-board for sale in -the street, and he sold it, though almost new, for 3_d._ - -“Fish,” or the bone, ivory, or mother-o’-pearl card counters in the -shape of fish, or sometimes in a circular form, used to be sold -second-hand as freely as the Pope-boards, and are now as rarely to be -seen. - -Until about 20 years ago, as well as I can fix upon a term from the -information I received, the apparatus for a game known as the “Devil -among the tailors” was a portion of the miscellaneous second-hand -trade or hawking of the streets. In it a top was set spinning on -a long board, and the result depended upon the number of men, or -“tailors,” knocked down by the “devil” (top) of each player, these -tailors being stationed, numbered, and scored (when knocked down) in -the same way as when the balls are propelled into the numbered sockets -in a bagatelle-board. I am moreover told that in the same second-hand -calling were boards known as “solitaire-boards.” These were round -boards, with a certain number of holes, in each of which was a peg. One -peg was removed at the selection of the player, and the game consisted -in taking each remaining peg, by advancing another over its head into -any vacant hole, and if at the end of the game only one peg remained -in the board, the player won; if winning it could be called when -the game could only be played by one person, and was for “solitary” -amusement. Chinese puzzles, sometimes on a large scale, were then also -a part of the second-hand traffic of the streets. These are a series -of thin woods in geometrical shapes, which may be fitted into certain -forms or patterns contained in a book, or on a sheet. These puzzles -are sold in the streets still, but in smaller quantity and diminished -size. Different games played with the teetotum were also a part of -second-hand street-sale, but none of these bygone pastimes were vended -to any extent. - -From the best data I have been able to obtain it appears that the -amount received by the street-sellers or street-hawkers in the sale of -these second-hand articles of amusement is 10_l._ weekly, about half -being profit, divided in the proportions I have intimated, as respects -the number of street-sellers and the periods of sale; or 520_l._ -expended yearly. - -I should have stated that the principal customers of this branch -of second-hand traders are found in the public-houses and at the -cigar-shops, where the goods are carried by street-sellers, who hawk -from place to place. - -These dealers also attend the neighbouring, and, frequently in the -summer, the more distant races, where for dice and the better quality -of their “boards,” &c., they generally find a prompt market. The sale -at the fairs consists only of the lowest-priced goods, and in a very -scant proportion compared to the races. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SECOND-HAND MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS. - -Of this trade there are two branches; the sale of instruments which -are really second-hand, and the sale of those which are pretendedly -so; in other words, an honest and a dishonest business. As in street -estimation the whole is a second-hand calling, I shall so deal with it. - -At this season of the year, when fairs are frequent and the river -steamers with their bands of music run oft and regularly, and out-door -music may be played until late, the calling of the street-musician -is “at its best.” In the winter he is not unfrequently starving, -especially if he be what is called “a chance hand,” and have not -the privilege of playing in public-houses when the weather renders -it impossible to collect a street audience. Such persons are often -compelled to part with their instruments, which they offer in the -streets or the public-houses, for the pawnbrokers have been so often -“stuck” (taken in) with inferior instruments, that it is difficult to -pledge even a really good violin. With some of these musical men it -goes hard to part with their instruments, as they have their full share -of the pride of art. Some, however, sell them recklessly and at almost -any price, to obtain the means of prolonging a drunken carouse. - -From a man who is now a dealer in second-hand musical instruments, and -is also a musician, I had the following account of his start in the -second-hand trade, and of his feelings when he first had to part with -his fiddle. - -“I was a gentleman’s footboy,” he said, “when I was young, but I was -always very fond of music, and so was my father before me. He was a -tailor in a village in Suffolk and used to play the bass-fiddle at -church. I hardly know how or when I learned to play, but I seemed to -grow up to it. There was two neighbours used to call at my father’s -and practise, and one or other was always showing me something, and so -I learned to play very well. Everybody said so. Before I was twelve, -I’ve played nearly all night at a dance in a farm-house. I never played -on anything but the violin. You must stick to one instrument, or you’re -not up to the mark on any if you keep changing. When I got a place as -footboy it was in a gentleman’s family in the country, and I never was -so happy as when master and mistress was out dining, and I could play -to the servants in the kitchen or the servants’ hall. Sometimes they -got up a bit of a dance to my violin. If there was a dance at Christmas -at any of the tenants’, they often got leave for me to go and play. It -was very little money I got given, but too much drink. At last master -said, he hired me to be his servant and not for a parish fiddler, so I -must drop it. I left him not long after--he got so cross and snappish. -In my next place--no, the next but one--I was on board wages, in -London, a goodish bit, as the family were travelling, and I had time -on my hands, and used to go and play at public-houses of a night, just -for the amusement of the company at first, but I soon got to know other -musicians and made a little money. Yes, indeed, I could have saved -money easily then, but I didn’t; I got too fond of a public-house life -for that, and was never easy at home.” - -I need not very closely pursue this man’s course to the streets, but -merely intimate it. He had several places, remaining in some a year or -more, in others two, three, or six months, but always unsettled. On -leaving his last place he married a fellow-servant, older than himself, -who had saved “a goodish bit of money,” and they took a beer-shop in -Bermondsey. A “free and easy” (concert), both vocal and instrumental, -was held in the house, the man playing regularly, and the business -went on, not unprosperously, until the wife died in child-bed, the -child surviving. After this everything went wrong, and at last the man -was “sold up,” and was penniless. For three or four years he lived -precariously on what he could earn as a musician, until about six -or seven years ago, when one bitter winter’s night he was without a -farthing, and had laboured all day in the vain endeavour to earn a -meal. His son, a boy then of five, had been sent home to him, and an -old woman with whom he had placed the lad was incessantly dunning for -12_s._ due for the child’s maintenance. The landlord clamoured for -15_s._ arrear of rent for a furnished room, and the hapless musician -did not possess one thing which he could convert into money except his -fiddle. He must leave his room next day. He had held no intercourse -with his friends in the country since he heard of his father’s death -some years before, and was, indeed, resourceless. After dwelling on -the many excellences of his violin, which he had purchased, “a dead -bargain,” for 3_l._ 15_s._, he said: “Well, sir, I sat down by the -last bit of coal in the place, and sat a long time thinking, and -didn’t know what to do. There was nothing to hinder me going out in -the morning, and working the streets with a mate, as I’d done before, -but then there was little James that was sleeping there in his bed. -He was very delicate then, and to drag him about and let him sleep -in lodging-houses would have killed him, I knew. But then I couldn’t -think of parting with my violin. I felt I should never again have such -another. I felt as if to part with it was parting with my last prop, -for what was I to do? I sat a long time thinking, with my instrument -on my knees, ’til--I’m sure I don’t know how to describe it--I felt -as if I was drunk, though I hadn’t even tasted beer. So I went out -boldly, just as if I _was_ drunk, and with a deal of trouble persuaded -a landlord I knew to lend me 1_l._ on my instrument, and keep it by him -for three months, ’til I could redeem it. I have it now, sir. Next day -I satisfied my two creditors by paying each half, and a week’s rent in -advance, and I walked off to a shop in Soho, where I bought a dirty old -instrument, broken in parts, for 2_s._ 3_d._ I was great part of the -day in doing it up, and in the evening earned 7_d._ by playing solos by -Watchorn’s door, and the Crown and Cushion, and the Lord Rodney, which -are all in the Westminster-road. I lodged in Stangate-street. There was -a young man--he looked like a respectable mechanic--gave me 1_d._, and -said: ‘I wonder how you can use your fingers at all such a freezing -night. It seems a good fiddle.’ I assure you, sir, I was surprised -myself to find what I could do with my instrument. ‘There’s a beer-shop -over the way,’ says the young man, ‘step in, and I’ll pay for a pint, -and try my hand at it.’ And so it was done, and I sold him my fiddle -for 7_s._ 6_d._ No, sir, there was no take in; it was worth the money. -I’d have sold it now that I’ve got a connection for half a guinea. Next -day I bought such another instrument at the same shop for 3_s._, and -sold it after a while for 6_s._, having done it up, in course. This -it was that first put it into my head to start selling second-hand -instruments, and so I began. Now I’m known as a man to be depended on, -and with my second-hand business, and engagements every now and then as -a musician, I do middling.” - -In this manner is the honest second-hand street-business in musical -instruments carried on. It is usually done by hawking. A few, however, -are sold at miscellaneous stalls, but they are generally such as -require repair, and are often without the bow, &c. The persons carrying -on the trade have all, as far as I could ascertain, been musicians. - -Of the street-sale of musical instruments by drunken members of the -“profession” I need say little, as it is exceptional, though it is -certainly a branch of the trade, for so numerous is the body of -street-musicians, and of so many classes is it composed, that this -description of second-hand business is being constantly transacted, -and often to the profit of the more wary dealers in these goods. The -statistics I shall show at the close of my remarks on this subject. - - -OF THE MUSIC “DUFFERS.” - -Second-Hand Guitars are vended by the street-sellers. The price -varies from 7_s._ 6_d._ to 15_s._ _Harps_ form no portion of the -second-hand business of the streets. A _drum_ is occasionally, and -only occasionally, sold to a showman, but the chief second-hand traffic -is in violins. _Accordions_, both new and old, used to sell readily in -the streets, either from stalls or in hawking, “but,” said a man who -had formerly sold them, “they have been regularly ‘duffed’ out of the -streets, so much cheap rubbish is made to sell. There’s next to nothing -done in them now. If one’s offered to a man that’s no judge of it, -he’ll be sure you want to cheat him, and perhaps abuse you; if he be a -judge, of course it’s no go, unless with a really good article.” - -Among the purchasers of second-hand musical instruments are those of -the working-classes who wish to “practise,” and the great number of -street-musicians, street-showmen, and the indifferently paid members of -the orchestras of minor (and not always of minor) theatres. Few of this -class ever buy new instruments. There are sometimes, I am informed, as -many as 50 persons, one-fourth being women, engaged in this second-hand -sale. Sometimes, as at present, there are not above half the number. -A broker who was engaged in the traffic estimated--and an intelligent -street-seller agreed in the computation--that, take the year through, -at least 25 individuals were regularly, but few of them fully, occupied -with this traffic, and that their weekly takings averaged 30_s._ each, -or an aggregate yearly amount of 190_l._ The weekly profits run from -10_s._ to 15_s._, and sometimes the well-known dealers clear 40_s._ -or 50_s._ a week, while others do not take 5_s._ Of this amount about -two-thirds is expended on violins, and one-tenth of the whole, or -nearly a tenth, on “duffing” instruments sold as second-hand, in which -department of the business the amount “turned over” used to be twice, -and even thrice as much. The sellers have nearly all been musicians in -some capacity, the women being the wives or connections of the men. - - * * * * * - -What I have called the “dishonest trade” is known among the street-folk -as “music-duffing.” Among the swag-shopkeepers, at one place in -Houndsditch more especially, are dealers in “duffing fiddles.” These -are German-made instruments, and are sold to the street-folk at 2_s._ -6_d._ or 3_s._ each, bow and all. When purchased by the music-duffers, -they are discoloured so as to be made to look old. A music-duffer, -assuming the way of a man half-drunk, will enter a public-house or -accost any party in the street, saying: “Here, I must have money, for I -won’t go home ’til morning, ’til morning, ’til morning, I won’t go home -’til morning, ’til daylight does appear. And so I may as well sell my -old fiddle myself as take it to a rogue of a broker. Try it anybody, -it’s a fine old tone, equal to any Cremonar. It cost me two guineas -and another fiddle, and a good ’un too, in exchange, but I may as well -be my own broker, for I must have money any how, and I’ll sell it for -10_s._” - -Possibly a bargain is struck for 5_s._; for the duffing violin is -perhaps purposely damaged in some slight way, so as to appear easily -reparable, and any deficiency in tone may be attributed to that -defect, which was of course occasioned by the drunkenness of the -possessor. Or possibly the tone of the instrument may not be bad, but -it may be made of such unsound materials, and in such a slop-way, -though looking well to a little-practised eye, that it will soon fall -to pieces. One man told me that he had often done the music-duffing, -and had sold trash violins for 10_s._, 15_s._, and even 20_s._, -“according,” he said, “to the thickness of the buyer’s head,” but that -was ten or twelve years ago. - -It appears that when an impetus was given to the musical taste of the -country by the establishment of cheap singing schools, or of music -classes, (called at one time “singing for the million”), or by the -prevalence of cheap concerts, where good music was heard, this duffing -trade flourished, but now, I am assured, it is not more than a quarter -of what it was. “There’ll always be something done in it,” said the -informant I have before quoted, “as long as you can find young men -that’s conceited about their musical talents, fond of taking their -medicine (drinking). If I’ve gone into a public-house room where I’ve -seen a young gent that’s bought a duffing fiddle of me, it don’t happen -once in twenty times that he complains and blows up about it, and -only then, perhaps, if he happens to be drunkish, when people don’t -much mind what’s said, and so it does me no harm. People’s too proud -to confess that they’re ever ‘done’ at any time or in anything. Why, -such gents has pretended, when I’ve sold ’em a duffer, and seen them -afterwards, that they’ve done _me!_” - -Nor is it to violins that this duffing or sham second-hand trade is -confined. At the swag-shops _duffing cornopeans_, _French horns_, and -_clarionets_ are vended to the street-folk. One of these cornopeans -may be bought for 14_s._; a French horn for 10_s._; and a clarionet -for 7_s._ 6_d._; or as a general rule at one-fourth of the price of a -properly-made instrument sold as reasonably as possible. These things -are also made to look old, and are disposed of in the same manner as -the duffing violins. The sale, however, is and was always limited, -for “if there be one working man,” I was told, “or a man of any sort -not professional in music, that tries his wind and his fingers on -a clarionet, there’s a dozen trying their touch and execution on a -violin.” - -Another way in which the duffing music trade at one time was made -available as a second-hand business was this:--A band would play before -a pawnbroker’s door, and the duffing German brass instruments might be -well-toned enough, the inferiority consisting chiefly in the materials, -but which were so polished up as to appear of the best. Some member of -the band would then offer his brass instrument in pledge, and often -obtain an advance of more than he had paid for it. - -One man who had been himself engaged in what he called this “artful” -business, told me that when two pawnbrokers, whom he knew, found that -they had been tricked into advancing 15_s._ on cornopeans, which they -could buy new in Houndsditch for 14_s._, they got him to drop the -tickets of the pledge, which they drew out for the purpose, in the -streets. These were picked up by some passer-by--and as there is a -very common feeling that there is no harm, or indeed rather a merit, -in cheating a pawnbroker or a tax-gatherer--the instruments were soon -redeemed by the fortunate finder, or the person to whom he had disposed -of his prize. Nor did the roguery end here. The same man told me that -he had, in collusion with a pawnbroker, dropped tickets of (sham) -second-hand musical instruments, which he had bought new at a swag-shop -for the very purpose, the amount on the duplicate being double the -cost, and as it is known that the pawnbrokers do not advance the value -of any article, the finders were gulled into redeeming the pledge, as -an advantageous bargain. “But I’ve left off all that dodging now, sir,” -said the man with a sort of a grunt, which seemed half a sigh and half -a laugh; “I’ve left it off entirely, for I found I was getting into -trouble.” - -The derivation of the term “duffing” I am unable to discover. The Rev. -Mr. Dixon says, in his “Dovecote and Aviary,” that the term “_Duffer_,” -applied to pigeons, is a corruption of _Dovehouse_,--but _query_? In -the slang dictionaries a “_Duffer_” is explained as “a man who hawks -things;” hence it would be equivalent to _Pedlar_, which means strictly -beggar--being from the Dutch _Bedclaar_, and the German _Bettler_. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SECOND-HAND WEAPONS. - -The sale of second-hand pistols, for to that weapon the street-sellers’ -or hawkers’ trade in arms seems confined, is larger than might be -cursorily imagined. - -There must be something seductive about the possession of a pistol, for -I am assured by persons familiar with the trade, that they have sold -them to men who were ignorant, when first invited to purchase, how the -weapon was loaded or discharged, and seemed half afraid to handle it. -Perhaps the possession imparts a sense of security. - -The pistols which are sometimes seen on the street-stalls are almost -always old, rusted, or battered, and are useless to any one except to -those who can repair and clean them for sale. - -There are three men now selling new or second-hand pistols, I am told, -who have been gunmakers. - -This trade is carried on almost entirely by hawking to public-houses. -I heard of no one who depended solely upon it, “but this is the way,” -one intelligent man stated to me, “if I am buying second-hand things -at a broker’s, or in Petticoat-lane, or anywhere, and there’s a pistol -that seems cheap, I’ll buy it as readily as anything I know, and I’ll -soon sell it at a public-house, or I’ll get it raffled for. Second-hand -pistols sell better than new by such as me. If I was to offer a new -one I should be told it was some Brummagem slop rubbish. If there’s -a little silver-plate let into the wood of the pistol, and a crest -or initials engraved on it--I’ve got it done sometimes--there’s a -better chance of sale, for people think it’s been made for somebody -of consequence that wouldn’t be fobbed off with an inferior thing. I -don’t think I’ve often sold pistols to working-men, but I’ve known them -join in raffles for them, and the winner has often wanted to sell it -back to me, and has sold it to somebody. It’s tradesmen that buy, or -gentlefolks, if you can get at them. A pistol’s a sort of a plaything -with them.” - -On my talking with a street-dealer concerning the street-trade in -second-hand pistols, he produced a handsome pistol from his pocket. -I inquired if it was customary for men in his way of life to carry -pistols, and he expressed his conviction that it was, but only when -travelling in the country, and in possession of money or valuable -stock. “I gave only 7_s._ 6_d._ for this pistol,” he said, “and have -refused 10_s._ 6_d._ for it, for I shall get a better price, as it’s an -excellent article, on some of my rounds in town. I bought it to take to -Ascot races with me, and have it with me now, but it’s not loaded, for -I’m going to Moulsey Hurst, where Hampton races are held. You’re not -safe if you travel after a great muster at a race by yourself without a -pistol. Many a poor fellow like me has been robbed, and the public hear -nothing about it, or say it’s all gammon. At Ascot, sir, I trusted my -money to a booth-keeper I knew, as a few men slept in his booth, and he -put my bit of tin with his own under his head where he slept, for safe -keeping. There’s a little doing in second-hand pistols to such as me, -but we generally sell them again.” - -Of _second-hand guns_, or other offensive weapons, there is no street -sale. A few “_life-preservers_,” some of gutta percha, are hawked, -but they are generally new. Bullets and powder are not sold by the -pistol-hawkers, but a _mould_ for the casting of bullets is frequently -sold along with the weapon. - -Of these second-hand pistol-sellers there are now, I am told, more than -there were last year. “I really believe,” said one man, laughing, but I -heard a similar account from others, “people were afraid the foreigners -coming to the Great Exhibition had some mischief in their noddles, and -so a pistol was wanted for protection. In my opinion, a pistol’s just -one of the things that people don’t think of buying, ’til it’s shown to -them, and then they’re tempted to have it.” - -The principal street-sale, independently of the hawking to -public-houses, is in such places as Ratcliffe-highway, where the mates -and petty officers of ships are accosted and invited to buy a good -second-hand pistol. The wares thus vended are generally of a well-made -sort. - -In this traffic, which is known as a “straggling” trade, pursued by -men who are at the same time pursuing other street-callings, it may be -estimated, I am assured, that there are 20 men engaged, each taking -as an average 1_l._ a week. In some weeks a man may take 5_l._; in -the next month he may sell no weapons at all. From 30 to 50 per cent. -is the usual rate of profit, and the yearly street outlay on these -second-hand offensive or defensive weapons is 1040_l._ - -One man who “did a little in pistols” told me, “that 25 or 30 years -ago, when he was a boy, his father sometimes cleared 2_l._ a week in -the street-sale and hawking of second-hand _boxing-gloves_, and that -he himself had sometimes carried the ‘gloves’ in his hand, and pistols -in his pocket for sale, but that now boxing-gloves were in no demand -whatever among street-buyers, and were ‘a complete drug.’ He used to -sell them at 3_s._ the set, which is four gloves.” - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SECOND-HAND CURIOSITIES. - -Several of the things known in the street-trade as “curiosities” can -hardly be styled second-hand with any propriety, but they are so styled -in the streets, and are usually vended by street-merchants who trade in -second-hand wares. - -Curiosities are displayed, I cannot say temptingly (except perhaps to a -sanguine antiquarian), for there is a great dinginess in the display, -on stalls. One man whom I met wheeling his barrow in High-street, -Camden-town, gave me an account of his trade. He was dirtily rather -than meanly clad, and had a very self-satisfied expression of face. -The principal things on his barrow were _coins_, _shells_, and _old -buckles_, with a pair of the very high and wooden-heeled _shoes_, worn -in the earlier part of the last century. - -The coins were all of copper, and certainly did not lack variety. -Among them were tokens, but none very old. There was the head of -“Charles Marquis Cornwallis” looking fierce in a cocked hat, while -on the reverse was Fame with her trumpet and a wreath, and banners -at her feet, with the superscription: “His fame resounds from east -to west.” There was a head of Wellington with the date 1811, and the -legend of “Vincit amor patriæ.” Also “The R. Hon. W. Pitt, Lord Warden -Cinque Ports,” looking courtly in a bag wig, with his hair brushed -from his brow into what the curiosity-seller called a “topping.” This -was announced as a “Cinque Ports token payable at Dover,” and was -dated 1794. “Wellingtons,” said the man, “is cheap; that one’s only a -halfpenny, but here’s one here, sir, as you seem to understand coins, -as I hope to get 2_d._ for, and will take no less. It’s ‘J. Lackington, -1794,’ you see, and on the back there’s a Fame, and round her is -written--and it’s a good speciment of a coin--‘Halfpenny of Lackington, -Allen & Co., cheapest booksellers in the world.’ That’s scarcer and -more vallyballer than Wellingtons or Nelsons either.” Of the current -coin of the realm, I saw none older than Charles II., and but one of -his reign, and little legible. Indeed the reverse had been ground quite -smooth, and some one had engraved upon it “Charles Dryland Tunbridg.” -A small “e” over the “g” of Tunbridg perfected the orthography. This, -the street-seller said, was a “love-token” as well as an old coin, and -“them love-tokens was getting scarce.” Of foreign and colonial coins -there were perhaps 60. The oldest I saw was one of Louis XV. of France -and Navarre, 1774. There was one also of the “Republique Francaise” -when Napoleon was First Consul. The colonial coins were more numerous -than the foreign. There was the “One Penny token” of Lower Canada; -the “one quarter anna” of the East India Company; the “half stiver -of the colonies of Essequibo and Demarara;” the “halfpenny token of -the province of Nova Scotia,” &c. &c. There were also counterfeit -halfcrowns and bank tokens worn from their simulated silver to rank -copper. The principle on which this man “priced” his coins, as he -called it, was simple enough. What was the size of a halfpenny he asked -a penny for; the size of a penny coin was 2_d._ “It’s a difficult trade -is mine, sir,” he said, “to carry on properly, for you may be so easily -taken in, if you’re not a judge of coins and other curiosities.” - -The shells of this man’s stock in trade he called “conks” and “king -conks.” He had no “clamps” then, he told me, but they sold pretty well; -he described them as “two shells together, one fitting inside the -other.” He also had sold what he called “African cowries,” which were -as “big as a pint pot,” and the smaller cowries, which were “money in -India, for his father was a soldier and had been there and saw it.” The -shells are sold from 1_d._ to 2_s._ 6_d._ - -The old buckles were such as used to be worn on shoes, but the plate -was all worn off, and “such like curiosities,” the man told me, “got -scarcer and scarcer.” - -Many of the stalls which are seen in the streets are the property of -adjacent shop or store-keepers, and there are not now, I am informed, -more than six men who carry on this trade apart from other commerce. -Their average takings are 15_s._ weekly each man, about two-thirds -being profit, or 234_l._ in a year. Some of the stands are in Great -Wyld-street, but they are chiefly the property of the second-hand -furniture brokers. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SECOND-HAND TELESCOPES AND POCKET GLASSES. - -In the sale of second-hand telescopes only one man is now engaged -in any extensive way, except on mere chance occasions. Fourteen or -fifteen years ago, I was informed, there was a considerable street sale -in small telescopes at 1_s._ each. They were made at Birmingham, my -informant believed, but were sold as second-hand goods in London. Of -this trade there is now no remains. - -The principal seller of second-hand telescopes takes a stand on Tower -Hill or by the Coal Exchange, and his customers, as he sells excellent -“glasses,” are mostly sea-faring men. He has sold, and still sells, -telescopes from 2_l._ 10_s._ to 5_l._ each, the purchasers generally -“trying” them, with strict examination, from Tower Hill, or on the -Custom-House Quay. There are, in addition to this street-seller, six -and sometimes eight others, who offer telescopes to persons about the -docks or wharfs, who may be going some voyage. These are as often new -as second-hand, but the second-hand articles are preferred. This, -however, is a Jewish trade which will be treated of under another head. - -An old opera-glass, or the smaller articles best known as -“pocket-glasses,” are occasionally hawked to public-houses and offered -in the streets, but so little is done in them that I can obtain no -statistics. A spectacle seller told me that he had once tried to sell -two second-hand opera-glasses at 2_s._ 6_d._ each, in the street, and -then in the public-houses, but was laughed at by the people who were -usually his customers. “Opera-glasses!” they said, “why, what did they -want with opera-glasses? wait until they had opera-boxes.” He sold the -glasses at last to a shopkeeper. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF OTHER MISCELLANEOUS SECOND-HAND ARTICLES. - -The other second-hand articles sold in the streets I will give under -one head, specifying the different characteristics of the trade, when -any striking peculiarities exist. To give a detail of the whole trade, -or rather of the several kinds of articles in the whole trade, is -impossible. I shall therefore select only such as are sold the more -extensively, or present any novel or curious features of second-hand -street-commerce. - -_Writing-desks_, _tea-caddies_, _dressing-cases_, and _knife-boxes_ -used to be a ready sale, I was informed, when “good second-hand;” but -they are “got up” now so cheaply by the poor fancy cabinet-makers -who work for the “slaughterers,” or furniture warehouses, and for -some of the general-dealing swag-shops, that the sale of anything -second-hand is greatly diminished. In fact I was told that as regards -second-hand writing-desks and dressing-cases, it might be said there -was “no trade at all now.” A few, however, are still to be seen at -miscellaneous stalls, and are occasionally, but very rarely, offered -at a public-house “used” by artisans who may be considered “judges” of -work. The tea-caddies are the things which are in best demand. “Working -people buy them,” I was informed, and “working people’s wives. When -women are the customers they look closely at the lock and key, as they -keep ‘my uncle’s cards’ there” (pawnbroker’s duplicates). - -One man had lately sold second-hand tea-caddies at 9_d._, 1_s._, and -1_s._ 3_d._ each, and cleared 2_s._ in a day when he had stock and -devoted his time to this sale. He could not persevere in it if he -wished, he told me, as he might lose a day in looking out for the -caddies; he might go to fifty brokers and not find one caddy cheap -enough for his purpose. - -_Brushes_ are sold second-hand in considerable quantities in the -streets, and are usually vended at stalls. Shoe-brushes are in the -best demand, and are generally sold, when in good condition, at 1_s._ -the set, the cost to the street-seller being 8_d._ They are bought, I -was told, by the people who clean their own shoes, or have to clean -other people’s. Clothes’ brushes are not sold to any extent, as the -“hard brush” of the shoe set is used by working people for a clothes’ -brush. Of late, I am told, second-hand brushes have sold more freely -than ever. They were hardly to be had just when wanted, in a sufficient -quantity, for the demand by persons going to Epsom and Ascot races, who -carry a brush of little value with them, to brush the dust gathered -on the road from their coats. The coster-girls buy very hard brushes, -indeed mere stumps, with which they brush radishes; these brushes are -vended at the street-stalls at 1_d._ each. - -In _Stuffed Birds_ for the embellishment of the walls of a room, there -is still a small second-hand street sale, but none now in images or -chimney-piece ornaments. “Why,” said one dealer, “I can now buy new -figures for 9_d._, such as not many years ago cost 7_s._, so what -chance of a second-hand sale is there?” The stuffed birds which sell -the best are starlings. They are all sold as second-hand, but are often -“made up” for street-traffic; an old bird or two, I was told, in a new -case, or a new bird in an old case. Last Saturday evening one man told -me he had sold two “long cases” of starlings and small birds for 2_s._ -6_d._ each. There are no stuffed parrots or foreign birds in this sale, -and no pheasants or other game, except sometimes wretched old things -which are sold because they happen to be in a case. - -The street-trade in second-hand _Lasts_ is confined principally -to Petticoat and Rosemary lanes, where they are bought by the -“garret-masters” in the shoemaking trade who supply the large wholesale -warehouses; that is to say, by small masters who find their own -materials and sell the boots and shoes by the dozen pairs. The lasts -are bought also by mechanics, street-sellers, and other poor persons -who cobble their own shoes. A shoemaker told me that he occasionally -bought a last at a street stall, or rather from street hampers in -Petticoat and Rosemary lanes, and it seemed to him that second-hand -stores of street lasts got neither bigger nor smaller: “I suppose -it’s this way,” he reasoned; “the garret-master buys lasts to do the -slop-snobbing cheap, mostly women’s lasts, and he dies or is done up -and goes to the “great house,” and his lasts find their way back to -the streets. You notice, sir, the first time you’re in Rosemary-lane, -how little a great many of the lasts have been used, and that shows -what a terrible necessity there was to part with them. In some there’s -hardly any peg-marks at all.” The lasts are sold from 1_d._ to 3_d._ -each, or twice that amount in pairs, “rights and lefts,” according to -the size and the condition. There are about 20 street last-sellers in -the second-hand trade of London--“at least 20,” one man said, after he -seemed to have been making a mental calculation on the subject. - -_Second-hand harness_ is sold largely, and when good is sold very -readily. There is, I am told, far less slop-work in harness-making than -in shoemaking or in the other trades, such as tailoring, and “many -a lady’s pony harness,” it was said to me by a second-hand dealer, -“goes next to a tradesman, and next to a costermonger’s donkey, and if -it’s been good leather to begin with--as it will if it was made for a -lady--why the traces’ll stand clouting, and patching, and piecing, and -mending for a long time, and they’ll do to cobble old boots last of -all, for old leather’ll wear just in treading, when it might snap at a -pull. Give me a good quality to begin with, sir, and it’s serviceable -to the end.” In my inquiries among the costermongers I ascertained -that if one of that body started his donkey, or rose from that to his -pony, he never bought new harness, unless it were a new collar if he -had a regard for the comfort of his beast, but bought old harness, and -“did it up” himself, often using iron rivets, or clenched nails, to -reunite the broken parts, where, of course, a harness-maker would apply -a patch. Nor is it the costermongers alone who buy all their harness -second-hand. The sweep, whose stock of soot is large enough to require -the help of an ass and a cart in its transport; the collector of bones -and offal from the butchers’ slaughter-houses or shops; and the many -who may be considered as co-traders with the costermonger class--the -greengrocer, the street coal-seller by retail, the salt-sellers, the -gravel and sand dealer (a few have small carts)--all, indeed, of -that class of traders, buy their harness second-hand, and generally -in the streets. The chief sale of second-hand harness is on the -Friday afternoons, in Smithfield. The more especial street-sale is in -Petticoat and Rosemary lanes, and in the many off-streets and alleys -which may be called the tributaries to those great second-hand marts. -There is no sale of these wares in the Saturday night markets, for -in the crush and bustle generally prevailing there at such times, -no room could be found for things requiring so much space as sets -of second-hand harness, and no time sufficiently to examine them. -“There’s so much to look at, you understand, sir,” said one second-hand -street-trader, who did a little in harness as well as in barrows, “if -you wants a decent set, and don’t grudge a shilling or two--and I never -grudges them myself when I has ’em--so that it takes a little time. You -must see that the buckles has good tongues--and it’s a sort of joke in -the trade that a bad tongue’s a d----d bad thing--and that the pannel -of the pad ain’t as hard as a board (flocks is the best stuffing, sir), -and that the bit, if it’s rusty, can be polished up, for a animal no -more likes a rusty bit in his mouth than we likes a musty bit of bread -in our’n. O, a man as treats his ass as a ass ought to be treated--and -it’s just the same if he has a pony--can’t be too perticler. If I -had my way I’d ’act a law making people perticler about ’osses’ and -asses’ shoes. If your boot pinches you, sir, you can sing out to your -bootmaker, but a ass can’t blow up a farrier.” It seems to me that in -these homely remarks of my informant, there is, so to speak, a sound -practical kindliness. There can be little doubt that a fellow who -maltreats his ass or his dog, maltreats his wife and children when he -dares. - -_Clocks_ are sold second-hand, but only by three or four foreigners, -Dutchmen or Germans, who hawk them and sell them at 2_s._ 6_d._ or -3_s._ each, Dutch clocks only being disposed of in this way. These -traders, therefore, come under the head of STREET-FOREIGNERS. “Ay,” one -street-seller remarked to me, “it’s only Dutch now as is second-handed -in the streets, but it’ll soon be Americans. The swags is some of them -hung up with Slick’s;” [so he called the American clocks, meaning the -“Sam _Slicks_,” in reference to Mr. Justice Hallyburton’s work of that -title;] “they’re hung up with ’em, sir, and no relation whatsomever -(pawnbroker) ’ll give a printed character of ’em (a duplicate), and -so they must come to the streets, and jolly cheap they’ll be.” The -foreigners who sell the second-hand Dutch clocks sell also new clocks -of the same manufacture, and often on tally, 1_s._ a week being the -usual payment. - -_Cartouche-boxes_ are sold at the miscellaneous stalls, but only after -there has been what I heard called a “Tower sale” (sale of military -stores). When bought of the street-sellers, the use of these boxes is -far more peaceful than that for which they were manufactured. Instead -of the receptacles of cartridges, the divisions are converted into nail -boxes, each with its different assortment, or contain the smaller kinds -of tools, such as awl-blades. These boxes are sold in the streets at -1/2_d._ or 1_d._ each, and are bought by jobbing shoemakers more than -by any other class. - -Of the other second-hand commodities of the streets, I may observe -that in _Trinkets_ the trade is altogether Jewish; in _Maps_, with -frames, it is now a nonentity, and so it is with _Fishing-rods_, -_Cricket-bats_, _&c._ - -In _Umbrellas_ and _Parasols_ the second-hand traffic is large, but -those vended in the streets are nearly all “done up” for street-sale by -the class known as “Mush,” or more properly “Mushroom Fakers,” that is -to say, the makers or _fakers_ (_facere_--the slang _fakement_ being -simply a corruption of the Latin _facimentum_) of those articles which -are similar in shape to _mushrooms_. I shall treat of this class and -the goods they sell under the head of Street-Artisans. The collectors -of Old Umbrellas and Parasols are the same persons as collect the -second-hand habiliments of male and female attire. - - * * * * * - -The men and women engaged in the street-commerce carried on in -second-hand articles are, in all respects, a more mixed class than the -generality of street-sellers. Some hawk in the streets goods which they -also display in their shops, or in the windowless apartments known -as their shops. Some are not in possession of shops, but often buy -their wares of those who are. Some collect or purchase the articles -they vend; others collect them by barter. The itinerant crock-man, the -root-seller, the glazed table-cover seller, the hawker of spars and -worked stone, and even the costermonger of the morning, is the dealer -in second-hand articles of the afternoon and evening. The costermonger -is, moreover, often the buyer and seller of second-hand harness in -Smithfield. I may point out again, also, what a multifariousness of -wares passes in the course of a month through the hands of a general -street-seller; at one time new goods, at another second-hand; sometimes -he is stationary at a pitch vending “lots,” or “swag toys;” at others -itinerant, selling braces, belts, and hose. - -I found no miscellaneous dealer who could tell me of the proportionate -receipts from the various articles he dealt in even for the last -month. He “did well” in this, and badly in the other trade, but beyond -such vague statements there is no precise information to be had. It -should be recollected that the street-sellers do not keep accounts, or -those documents would supply references. “It’s all headwork with us,” a -street-seller said, somewhat boastingly, to me, as if the ignorance of -book-keeping was rather commendable. - - -OF SECOND-HAND STORE SHOPS. - -Perhaps it may add to the completeness of the information here given -concerning the trading in old refuse articles, and especially those -of a miscellaneous character, the manner in which, and the parties -by whom the business is carried on, if I conclude this branch of the -subject by an account of the shops of the second-hand dealers. The -distance between the class of these shopkeepers and of the stall and -barrow-keepers I have described is not great. It may be said to be -merely from the street to within doors. Marine-store dealers have -often in their start in life been street-sellers, not unfrequently -costermongers, and street-sellers they again become if their ventures -be unsuccessful. Some of them, however, make a good deal of money in -what may be best understood as a “hugger-mugger way.” - -On this subject I cannot do better than quote Mr. Dickens, one of the -most minute and truthful of observers:-- - -“The reader must often have perceived in some by-street, in a poor -neighbourhood, a small dirty shop, exposing for sale the most -extraordinary and confused jumble of old, worn-out, wretched articles, -that can well be imagined. Our wonder at their ever having been bought, -is only to be equalled by our astonishment at the idea of their ever -being sold again. On a board, at the side of the door, are placed about -twenty books--all odd volumes; and as many wine-glasses--all different -patterns; several locks, an old earthenware pan, full of rusty keys; -two or three gaudy chimney ornaments--cracked, of course; the remains -of a lustre, without any drops; a round frame like a capital O, which -has once held a mirror; a flute, complete with the exception of the -middle joint; a pair of curling-irons; and a tinder-box. In front of -the shop-window, are ranged some half-dozen high-backed chairs, with -spinal complaints and wasted legs; a corner cupboard; two or three -very dark mahogany tables with flaps like mathematical problems; some -pickle-bottles, some surgeons’ ditto, with gilt labels and without -stoppers; an unframed portrait of some lady who flourished about the -beginning of the thirteenth century, by an artist who never flourished -at all; an incalculable host of miscellanies of every description, -including armour and cabinets, rags and bones, fenders and street-door -knockers, fire-irons, wearing-apparel and bedding, a hall-lamp, and -a room-door. Imagine, in addition to this incongruous mass, a black -doll in a white frock, with two faces--one looking up the street, and -the other looking down, swinging over the door; a board with the -squeezed-up inscription ‘Dealer in marine stores,’ in lanky white -letters, whose height is strangely out of proportion to their width; -and you have before you precisely the kind of shop to which we wish to -direct your attention. - -“Although the same heterogeneous mixture of things will be found at -all these places, it is curious to observe how truly and accurately -some of the minor articles which are exposed for sale--articles of -wearing-apparel, for instance--mark the character of the neighbourhood. -Take Drury-lane and Covent-garden for example. - -“This is essentially a theatrical neighbourhood. There is not a potboy -in the vicinity who is not, to a greater or less extent, a dramatic -character. The errand-boys and chandlers’-shop-keepers’ sons, are -all stage-struck: they ‘get up’ plays in back kitchens hired for the -purpose, and will stand before a shop-window for hours, contemplating -a great staring portrait of Mr. somebody or other, of the Royal Coburg -Theatre, ‘as he appeared in the character of Tongo the Denounced.’ -The consequence is, that there is not a marine-store shop in the -neighbourhood, which does not exhibit for sale some faded articles of -dramatic finery, such as three or four pairs of soiled buff boots with -turn-over red tops, heretofore worn by a ‘fourth robber,’ or ‘fifth -mob;’ a pair of rusty broad-swords, a few gauntlets, and certain -resplendent ornaments, which, if they were yellow instead of white, -might be taken for insurance plates of the Sun Fire-office. There are -several of these shops in the narrow streets and dirty courts, of -which there are so many near the national theatres, and they all have -tempting goods of this description, with the addition, perhaps, of a -lady’s pink dress covered with spangles; white wreaths, stage shoes, -and a tiara like a tin lamp reflector. They have been purchased of some -wretched supernumeraries, or sixth-rate actors, and are now offered -for the benefit of the rising generation, who, on condition of making -certain weekly payments, amounting in the whole to about ten times -their value, may avail themselves of such desirable bargains. - -“Let us take a very different quarter, and apply it to the same -test. Look at a marine-store dealer’s, in that reservoir of dirt, -drunkenness, and drabs: thieves, oysters, baked potatoes, and pickled -salmon--Ratcliff-highway. Here, the wearing-apparel is all nautical. -Rough blue jackets, with mother-of-pearl buttons, oil-skin hats, -coarse checked shirts, and large canvass trousers that look as if -they were made for a pair of bodies instead of a pair of legs, are -the staple commodities. Then, there are large bunches of cotton -pocket-handkerchiefs, in colour and pattern unlike any one ever saw -before, with the exception of those on the backs of the three young -ladies without bonnets who passed just now. The furniture is much the -same as elsewhere, with the addition of one or two models of ships, -and some old prints of naval engagements in still older frames. In the -window are a few compasses, a small tray containing silver watches in -clumsy thick cases; and tobacco-boxes, the lid of each ornamented with -a ship, or an anchor, or some such trophy. A sailor generally pawns or -sells all he has before he has been long ashore, and if he does not, -some favoured companion kindly saves him the trouble. In either case, -it is an even chance that he afterwards unconsciously repurchases the -same things at a higher price than he gave for them at first. - -“Again: pay a visit, with a similar object, to a part of London, as -unlike both of these as they are to each other. Cross over to the Surry -side, and look at such shops of this description as are to be found -near the King’s Bench prison, and in ‘the Rules.’ How different, and -how strikingly illustrative of the decay of some of the unfortunate -residents in this part of the metropolis! Imprisonment and neglect have -done their work. There is contamination in the profligate denizens of -a debtors’ prison; old friends have fallen off; the recollection of -former prosperity has passed away; and with it all thoughts for the -past, all care for the future. First, watches and rings, then cloaks, -coats, and all the more expensive articles of dress, have found their -way to the pawnbroker’s. That miserable resource has failed at last, -and the sale of some trifling article at one of these shops, has been -the only mode left of raising a shilling or two, to meet the urgent -demands of the moment. Dressing-cases and writing-desks, too old to -pawn but too good to keep; guns, fishing-rods, musical instruments, all -in the same condition; have first been sold, and the sacrifice has been -but slightly felt. But hunger must be allayed, and what has already -become a habit, is easily resorted to, when an emergency arises. Light -articles of clothing, first of the ruined man, then of his wife, at -last of their children, even of the youngest, have been parted with, -piecemeal. There they are, thrown carelessly together until a purchaser -presents himself, old, and patched and repaired, it is true; but the -make and materials tell of better days: and the older they are, the -greater the misery and destitution of those whom they once adorned.” - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SECOND-HAND APPAREL. - -The multifariousness of the articles of this trade is limited only by -what the uncertainty of the climate, the caprices of fashion, or the -established styles of apparel in the kingdom, have caused to be worn, -flung aside, and reworn as a revival of an obsolete style. It is to -be remarked, however, that of the old-fashioned styles none that are -costly have been revived. Laced coats, and embroidered and lappeted -waistcoats, have long disappeared from second-hand traffic--the last -stage of fashions--and indeed from all places but court or fancy balls -and the theatre. - -The great mart for second-hand apparel was, in the last century, -in Monmouth-street; now, by one of those arbitrary, and almost -always inappropriate, changes in the nomenclature of streets, termed -Dudley-street, Seven Dials. “Monmouth-street finery” was a common term -to express tawdriness and pretence. Now Monmouth-street, for its new -name is hardly legitimated, has no finery. Its second-hand wares are -almost wholly confined to old boots and shoes, which are vamped up with -a good deal of trickery; so much so that a shoemaker, himself in the -poorer practice of the “gentle craft,” told me that blacking and brown -paper were the materials of Monmouth-street cobbling. Almost every -master in Monmouth-street now is, I am told, an Irishman; and the great -majority of the workmen are Irishmen also. There were a few Jews and a -few cockneys in this well-known street a year or two back, but now this -branch of the second-hand trade is really in the hands of what may be -called a clan. A little business is carried on in second-hand apparel, -as well as boots and shoes, but it is insignificant. - -The head-quarters of this second-hand trade are now in Petticoat and -Rosemary lanes, especially in Petticoat-lane, and the traffic there -carried on may be called enormous. As in other departments of commerce, -both in our own capital, in many of our older cities, and in the cities -of the Continent, the locality appropriated to this traffic is one of -narrow streets, dark alleys, and most oppressive crowding. The traders -seem to judge of a Rag-fair garment, whether a cotton frock or a ducal -coachman’s great-coat, by the touch, more reliably than by the sight; -they inspect, so to speak, with their fingers more than their eyes. -But the business in Petticoat and Rosemary lanes is mostly of a retail -character. The wholesale mart--for the trade in old clothes has both a -wholesale and retail form--is in a place of especial curiosity, and one -of which, as being little known, I shall first speak. - - -OF THE OLD CLOTHES EXCHANGE. - -The trade in second-hand apparel is one of the most ancient of -callings, and is known in almost every country, but anything like the -Old Clothes Exchange of the Jewish quarter of London, in the extent and -order of its business, is unequalled in the world. There is indeed no -other such place, and it is rather remarkable that a business occupying -so many persons, and requiring such facilities for examination and -arrangement, should not until the year 1843 have had its regulated -proceedings. The Old Clothes Exchange is the latest of the central -marts, established in the metropolis. - -Smithfield, or the Cattle Exchange, is the oldest of all the markets; -it is mentioned as a place for the sale of horses in the time of -Henry II. Billingsgate, or the Fish Exchange, is of ancient, but -uncertain era. Covent Garden--the largest Fruit, Vegetable, and -Flower Exchange--first became established as the centre of such -commerce in the reign of Charles II.; the establishment of the Borough -and Spitalfields markets, as other marts for the sale of fruits, -vegetables, and flowers, being nearly as ancient. The Royal Exchange -dates from the days of Queen Elizabeth, and the Bank of England and the -Stock-Exchange from those of William III., while the present premises -for the Corn and Coal Exchanges are modern. - -Were it possible to obtain the statistics of the last quarter of a -century, it would, perhaps, be found that in none of the important -interests I have mentioned has there been a greater increase of -business than in the trade in old clothes. Whether this purports a high -degree of national prosperity or not, it is not my business at present -to inquire, and be it as it may, it is certain that, until the last -few years, the trade in old clothes used to be carried on entirely in -the open air, and this in the localities which I have pointed out in -my account of the trade in old metal (p. 10, vol. ii.) as comprising -the Petticoat-lane district. The old clothes trade was also pursued in -Rosemary-lane, but then--and so indeed it is now--this was but a branch -of the more centralized commerce of Petticoat-lane. The head-quarters -of the traffic at that time were confined to a space not more than ten -square yards, adjoining Cutler-street. The chief traffic elsewhere -was originally in Cutler-street, White-street, Carter-street, and in -Harrow-alley--the districts of the celebrated Rag-fair. - -The confusion and clamour before the institution of the present -arrangements were extreme. Great as was the extent of the business -transacted, people wondered how it could be accomplished, for it -always appeared to a stranger, that there could be no order whatever -in all the disorder. The wrangling was incessant, nor were the -trade-contests always confined to wrangling alone. The passions of the -Irish often drove them to resort to cuffs, kicks, and blows, which -the Jews, although with a better command over their tempers, were not -slack in returning. The East India Company, some of whose warehouses -adjoined the market, frequently complained to the city authorities -of the nuisance. Complaints from other quarters were also frequent, -and sometimes as many as 200 constables were necessary to restore or -enforce order. The nuisance, however, like many a public nuisance, -was left to remedy itself, or rather it was left to be remedied by -individual enterprise. Mr. L. Isaac, the present proprietor, purchased -the houses which then filled up the back of Phil’s-buildings, and -formed the present Old Clothes Exchange. This was eight years ago; -now there are no more policemen in the locality than in other equally -populous parts. - -Of Old Clothes Exchanges there are now two, both adjacent, the one -first opened by Mr. Isaac being the most important. This is 100 feet by -70, and is the mart to which the collectors of the cast-off apparel of -the metropolis bring their goods for sale. The goods are sold wholesale -and retail, for an old clothes merchant will buy either a single -hat, or an entire wardrobe, or a sackful of shoes,--I need not say -_pairs_, for odd shoes are not rejected. In one department of “Isaac’s -Exchange,” however, the goods are not sold to parties who buy for their -own wearing, but to the old clothes merchant, who buys to sell again. -In this portion of the mart are 90 stalls, averaging about six square -feet each. - -In another department, which communicates with the first, and is -two-thirds of the size, are assembled such traders as buy the old -garments to dispose of them, either after a process of cleaning, or -when they have been repaired and renovated. These buyers are generally -shopkeepers, residing in the old clothes districts of Marylebone-lane, -Holywell-street, Monmouth-street, Union-street (Borough), Saffron-hill -(Field-lane), Drury-lane, Shoreditch, the Waterloo-road, and other -places of which I shall have to speak hereafter. - -The difference between the first and second class of buyers above -mentioned, is really that of the merchant and the retail shopkeeper. -The one buys literally anything presented to him which is vendible, and -in any quantity, for the supply of the wholesale dealers from distant -parts, or for exportation, or for the general trade of London. The -other purchases what suits his individual trade, and is likely to suit -regular or promiscuous customers. - -In another part of the same market is carried on the _retail_ old -clothes trade to any one--shopkeeper, artisan, clerk, costermonger, -or gentlemen. This indeed, is partially the case in the other parts. -“Yesh, inteet,” said a Hebrew trader, whom I conversed with on the -subject, “I shall be clad to shell you one coat, sir. Dish von is -shust your shize; it is verra sheep, and vosh made by one tip-top -shnip.” Indeed, the keenness and anxiety to trade--whenever trade seems -possible--causes many of the frequenters of these marts to infringe the -arrangements as to the manner of the traffic, though the proprietors -endeavour to cause the regulations to be strictly adhered to. - -The second Exchange, which is a few yards apart from the other is known -as Simmons and Levy’s Clothes Exchange, and is unemployed, for its more -especial business purposes, except in the mornings. The commerce is -then wholesale, for here are sold collections of unredeemed pledges in -wearing apparel, consigned there by the pawnbrokers, or the buyers at -the auctions of unredeemed goods; as well as draughts from the stocks -of the wardrobe dealers; a quantity of military or naval stores, and -such like articles. In the afternoon the stalls are occupied by retail -dealers. The ground is about as large as the first-mentioned exchange, -but is longer and narrower. - -In neither of these places is there even an attempt at architectural -elegance, or even neatness. The stalls and partitions are of unpainted -wood, the walls are bare, the only care that seems to be manifested is -that the places should be dry. In the first instance the plainness was -no doubt a necessity from motives of prudence, as the establishments -were merely speculations, and now everything but _business_ seems -to be disregarded. The Old Clothes Exchanges have assuredly one -recommendation as they are now seen--their appropriateness. They have -a threadbare, patched, and _second-hand_ look. The dresses worn by the -dealers, and the dresses they deal in, are all in accordance with the -genius of the place. But the eagerness, crowding, and energy, are the -grand features of the scene; and of all the many curious sights in -London there is none so picturesque (from the various costumes of the -buyers and sellers), none so novel, and none so animated as that of the -Old Clothes Exchange. - -Business is carried on in the wholesale department of the Old Clothes -Exchanges every day during the week; and in the retail on each day -except the Hebrew Sabbath (Saturday). The Jews in the old clothes trade -observe strictly the command that on their Sabbath day they shall do no -manner of work, for on a visit I paid to the Exchange last Saturday, -not a single Jew could I see engaged in any business. But though -the Hebrew Sabbath is observed by the Jews and disregarded by the -Christians, the Christian Sabbath, on the other hand, is disregarded -by Jew and Christian alike, some few of the Irish excepted, who may -occasionally go to early mass, and attend at the Exchange afterwards. -Sunday, therefore, in “Rag-fair,” is like the other days of the week -(Saturday excepted); business closes on the Sunday, however, at 2 -instead of 6. - -On the Saturday the keen Jew-traders in the neighbourhood of the -Exchanges may be seen standing at their doors--after the synagogue -hours--or looking out of their windows, dressed in their best. The -dress of the men is for the most part not distinguishable from that of -the English on the Sunday, except that there may be a greater glitter -of rings and watch-guards. The dress of the women is of every kind; -becoming, handsome, rich, tawdry, but seldom neat. - - -OF THE WHOLESALE BUSINESS AT THE OLD CLOTHES EXCHANGE. - -A considerable quantity of the old clothes disposed of at the Exchange -are bought by merchants from Ireland. They are then packed in bales by -porters, regularly employed for the purpose, and who literally _build_ -them up square and compact. These bales are each worth from 50_l._ to -300_l._, though seldom 300_l._, and it is curious to reflect from how -many classes the pile of old garments has been collected--how many -privations have been endured before some of these habiliments found -their way into the possession of the old clothesman--what besotted -debauchery put others in his possession--with what cool calculation -others were disposed of--how many were procured for money, and how -many by the tempting offers of flowers, glass, crockery, spars, -table-covers, lace, or millinery--what was the clothing which could -first be spared when rent was to be defrayed or bread to be bought, and -what was treasured until the last--in what scenes of gaiety or gravity, -in the opera-house or the senate, had the perhaps departed wearers of -some of that heap of old clothes figured--through how many possessors, -and again through what new scenes of middle-class or artizan comfort -had these dresses passed, or through what accidents of “genteel” -privation and destitution--and lastly through what necessities of -squalid wretchedness and low debauchery. - -Every kind of old attire, from the highest to the _very lowest_, I was -emphatically told, was sent to Ireland. - -Some of the bales are composed of garments originally made for the -labouring classes. These are made up of every description of colour and -material--cloth, corduroy, woollen cords, fustian, moleskin, flannel, -velveteen, plaids, and the several varieties of those substances. -In them are to be seen coats, great-coats, jackets, trousers, and -breeches, but no other habiliments, such as boots, shirts, or -stockings. I was told by a gentleman, who between 40 and 50 years ago -was familiar with the liberty and poorer parts of Dublin, that the most -coveted and the most saleable of all second-hand apparel was that of -leather breeches, worn commonly in some of the country parts of England -half a century back, and sent in considerable quantities at that time -from London to Ireland. These nether habiliments were coveted because, -as the Dublin sellers would say, they “would wear for ever, and look -illigant after that.” Buck-skin breeches are now never worn except -by grooms in their liveries, and gentlemen when hunting, so that the -trade in them in the Old Clothes Exchange, and their exportation to -Ireland, are at an end. The next most saleable thing--I may mention, -incidentally--vended cheap and second-hand in Dublin, to the poor -Irishmen of the period I speak of, was a wig! And happy was the man who -could wear two, one over the other. - -Some of the Irish buyers who are regular frequenters of the London Old -Clothes Exchange, take a small apartment, often a garret or a cellar, -in Petticoat-lane or its vicinity, and to this room they convey their -purchases until a sufficient stock has been collected. Among these old -clothes the Irish possessors cook, or at any rate eat, their meals, -and upon them they sleep. I did not hear that such dealers were more -than ordinarily unhealthy; though it may, perhaps, be assumed that such -habits are fatal to health. What may be the average duration of life -among old clothes sellers who live in the midst of their wares, I do -not know, and believe that no facts have been collected on the subject; -but I certainly saw among them some very old men. - -Other wholesale buyers from Ireland occupy decent lodgings in the -neighbourhood--decent considering the locality. In Phil’s-buildings, a -kind of wide alley which forms one of the approaches to the Exchange, -are eight respectable apartments, almost always let to the Irish old -clothes merchants. - -Tradesmen of the same class come also from the large towns of England -and Scotland to buy for their customers some of the left-off clothes of -London. - -Nor is this the extent of the wholesale trade. Bales of old clothes are -exported to Belgium and Holland, but principally to Holland. Of the -quantity of goods thus exported to the Continent not above one-half, -perhaps, can be called old _clothes_, while among these the old livery -suits are in the best demand. The other goods of this foreign trade -are old serges, duffles, carpeting, drugget, and heavy woollen goods -generally, of all the descriptions which I have before enumerated as -parcel of the second-hand trade of the streets. Old merino curtains, -and any second-hand decorations of fringes, woollen lace, &c., are in -demand for Holland. - -Twelve bales, averaging somewhere about 100_l._ each in value, but not -fully 100_l._, are sent direct every week of the year from the Old -Clothes Exchange to distant places, and this is not the whole of the -traffic, apart from what is done retail. I am informed on the best -authority, that the average trade may be stated at 1500_l._ a week all -the year round. When I come to the conclusion of the subject, however, -I shall be able to present statistics of the amount turned over in the -respective branches of the old clothes trade, as well as of the number -of the traffickers, only one-fourth of whom are now Jews. - -The conversation which goes on in the Old Clothes Exchange during -business hours, apart from the “larking” of the young sweet-stuff and -orange or cake-sellers, is all concerning business, but there is, -even while business is being transacted, a frequent interchange of -jokes, and even of practical jokes. The business talk--I was told by -an old clothes collector, and I heard similar remarks--is often to the -following effect:-- - -“How much is this here?” says the man who comes to buy. “One pound -five,” replies the Jew seller. “I won’t give you above half the money.” -“Half de money,” cries the salesman, “I can’t take dat. Vat above -the 16_s._ dat you offer now vill you give for it? Vill you give me -eighteen? Vell, come, give ush your money, I’ve got ma rent to pay.” -But the man says, “I only bid you 12_s._ 6_d._, and I shan’t give no -more.” And then, if the seller finds he can get him to “spring” or -advance no further, he says, “I shupposh I musht take your money even -if I loosh by it. You’ll be a better cushtomer anoder time.” [This is -still a common “deal,” I am assured by one who began the business at 13 -years old, and is now upwards of 60 years of age. The Petticoat-laner -will always ask at least twice as much as he means to take.] - - * * * * * - -For a more detailed account of the mode of business as conducted at the -Old Clothes Exchange I refer the reader to p. 368, vol. i. Subsequent -visits have shown me nothing to alter in that description, although -written (in one of my letters in the _Morning Chronicle_), nearly two -years ago. I have merely to add that I have there mentioned the receipt -of a halfpenny toll; but this, I find, is not levied on Saturdays and -Sundays. - - * * * * * - -I ought not to omit stating that pilfering one from another by the -poor persons who have collected the second-hand garments, and have -carried them to the Old Clothes Exchange to dispose of, is of very -rare occurrence. This is the more commendable, for many of the wares -could not be identified by their owner, as he had procured them only -that morning. If, as happens often enough, a man carried a dozen pairs -of old shoes to the Exchange, and one pair were stolen, he might have -some difficulty in swearing to the identity of the pair purloined. -It is true that the Jews, and crock-men, and others, who collect, by -sale or barter, masses of old clothes, note all their defects very -minutely, and might have no moral doubt as to identity, nevertheless -the magistrate would probably conclude that the legal evidence--were it -only circumstantial--was insufficient. The young thieves, however, who -flock from the low lodging-houses in the neighbourhood, are an especial -trouble in Petticoat-lane, where the people robbed are generally -too busy, and the article stolen of too little value, to induce a -prosecution--a knowledge which the juvenile pilferer is not slow in -acquiring. Sometimes when these boys are caught pilfering, they are -severely beaten, especially by the women, who are aided by the men, if -the thief offers any formidable resistance, or struggles to return the -blows. - - -OF THE USES OF SECOND-HAND GARMENTS. - -I have now to describe the uses to which the several kinds of garments -which constitute the commerce of the Old Clothes Exchange are devoted, -whether it be merely in the re-sale of the apparel, to be worn in its -original form or in a repaired or renovated form; or whether it be -“worked up” into other habiliments, or be useful for the making of -other descriptions of woollen fabrics; or else whether it be fit merely -for its last stages--the rag-bag for the paper-maker, or the manure -heap for the hop-grower. - - * * * * * - -Each “left-off” garment has its peculiar after _uses_, according to -its material and condition. The practised eye of the old clothes man -at once embraces every capability of the apparel, and the amount which -these capabilities will realize; whether they be woollen, linen, -cotton, leathern, or silken goods; or whether they be articles which -cannot be classed under any of those designations, such as macintoshes -and furs. - -A _surtout_ coat is the most serviceable of any second-hand clothing, -originally good. It can be re-cuffed, re-collared, or the skirts -re-lined with new or old silk, or with a substitute for silk. It can -be “restored” if the seams be white and the general appearance what is -best understood by the expressive word “seedy.” This restoration is a -sort of re-dyeing, or rather re-colouring, by the application of gall -and logwood with a small portion of copperas. If the under sleeve be -worn, as it often is by those whose avocations are sedentary, it is -renewed, and frequently with a second-hand piece of cloth “to match,” -so that there is no perceptible difference between the renewal and -the other parts. Many an honest artisan in this way becomes possessed -of his Sunday frock-coat, as does many a smarter clerk or shopman, -impressed with a regard to his personal appearance. - -In the last century, I may here observe, and perhaps in the early -part of the present, when woollen cloth was much dearer, much more -substantial, and therefore much more durable, it was common for -economists to have a good coat “turned.” It was taken to pieces by -the tailor and re-made, the inner part becoming the outer. This -mode prevailed alike in France and England; for Molière makes his -miser, _Harpagon_, magnanimously resolve to incur the cost of his -many-years’-old coat being “turned,” for the celebration of his -expected marriage with a young and wealthy bride. This way of dealing -with a second-hand garment is not so general now as it was formerly in -London, nor is it in the country. - -If the surtout be incapable of restoration to the appearance of a -“respectable” garment, the skirts are sold for the making of cloth -caps; or for the material of boys’ or “youths’” waistcoats; or for -“poor country curates’ gaiters; but not so much now as they once -were. The poor journeymen parsons,” I was told, “now goes for the new -slops; they’re often green, and is had by ’vertisements, and bills, -and them books about fashions which is all over both country and town. -Do you know, sir, why them there books is always made so small? The -leaves is about four inches square. That’s to prevent their being any -use as waste paper. I’ll back a coat such as is sometimes sold by a -gentleman’s servant to wear out two new slops.” - -_Cloaks_ are things of as ready sale as any kind of old garments. If -good, or even reparable, they are in demand both for the home and -foreign trades, as cloaks; if too far gone, which is but rarely the -case, they are especially available for the same purposes as the -surtout. The same may be said of the great-coat. - -_Dress-coats_ are far less useful, as if cleaned up and repaired they -are not in demand among the working classes, and the clerks and shopmen -on small salaries are often tempted by the price, I was told, to buy -some wretched new slop thing rather than a superior coat second-hand. -The dress-coats, however, are used for caps. Sometimes a coat, for -which the collector may have given 9_d._, is cut up for the repairs of -better garments. - -_Trousers_ are re-seated and repaired where the material is strong -enough; and they are, I am informed, now about the only habiliment -which is ever “turned,” and that but exceptionally. The repairs to -trousers are more readily effected than those to coats, and trousers -are freely bought by the collectors, and as freely re-bought by the -public. - -_Waistcoats_--I still speak of woollen fabrics--are sometimes used -in cap-making, and were used in gaiter-making. But generally, at the -present time, the worn edges are cut away, the buttons renewed or -replaced by a new set, sometimes of glittering glass, the button-holes -repaired or their jaggedness gummed down, and so the waistcoat is -reproduced as a waistcoat, a size smaller. Sometimes a “vest,” as -waistcoats are occasionally called, is used by the cheap boot-makers -for the “legs” of a woman’s cloth boots, either laced or buttoned, but -not a quarter as much as they would be, I was told, if the buttons and -button-holes of the waistcoat would “do again” in the boot. - -Nor is the woollen garment, if too thin, too worn, or too rotten -to be devoted to any of the uses I have specified, flung away as -worthless. To the traders in second-hand apparel, or in the remains -of second-hand apparel, a dust-hole is an unknown receptacle. The -woollen rag, for so it is then considered, when unravelled can be made -available for the manufacture of cheap yarns, being mixed with new -wool. It is more probable, however, that the piece of woollen fabric -which has been rejected by those who make or mend, and who must make -or mend so cheaply that the veriest vagrant may be their customer, -is formed not only into a new material, but into a material which -sometimes is made into a new garment. These garments are inferior to -those woven of new wool, both in look and wear; but in some articles -the re-manufacture is beautiful. The fabric thus snatched, as it -were, from the ruins of cloth, is known as shoddy, the chief seat of -manufacture being in Dewsbury, a small town in Yorkshire. The old -material, when duly prepared, is torn into wool again by means of fine -machinery, but the recovered wool is shorter in its fibre and more -brittle in its nature; it is, indeed, more a woollen pulp than a wool. - -Touching this peculiar branch of manufacture, I will here cite from the -_Morning Chronicle_ a brief description of a Shoddy Mill, so that the -reader may have as comprehensive a knowledge as possible of the several -uses to which his left-off clothes may be put. - -“The small town of Dewsbury holds, in the woollen district, very -much the same position which Oldham does in the cotton country--the -spinning and preparing of waste and refuse materials. To this stuff -the name of “shoddy” is given, but the real and orthodox “shoddy” is a -production of the woollen districts, and consists of the second-hand -wool manufactured by the tearing up, or rather the grinding, of woollen -rags by means of coarse willows, called devils; the operation of which -sends forth choking clouds of dry pungent dirt and floating fibres--the -real and original “devil’s dust.” Having been, by the agency of the -machinery in question, reduced to something like the original raw -material, fresh wool is added to the pulp in different proportions, -according to the quality of the stuff to be manufactured, and the -mingled material is at length reworked in the usual way into a little -serviceable cloth. - -“There are some shoddy mills in the neighbourhood of Huddersfield, but -the mean little town of Dewsbury may be taken as the metropolis of the -manufacture. Some mills are devoted solely to the sorting, preparing, -and grinding of rags, which are worked up in the neighbouring -factories. Here great bales, choke full of filthy tatters, lie -scattered about the yard, while the continual arrival of loaded waggons -keeps adding to the heap. A glance at the exterior of these mills shows -their character. The walls and part of the roof are covered with the -thick clinging dust and fibre, which ascends in choky volumes from the -open doors and glassless windows of the ground floor, and which also -pours forth from a chimney, constructed for the purpose, exactly like -smoke. The mill is covered as with a mildewy fungus, and upon the gray -slates of the roof the frowzy deposit is often not less than two inches -in depth. - -“In the upper story of these mills the rags are stored. A great -ware-room is piled in many places from the floor to the ceiling with -bales of woollen rags, torn strips and tatters of every colour peeping -out from the bursting depositories. There is hardly a country in -Europe which does not contribute its quota of material to the shoddy -manufacturer. Rags are brought from France, Germany, and in great -quantities from Belgium. Denmark, I understand, is favourably looked -upon by the tatter merchants, being fertile in morsels of clothing, -of fair quality. Of domestic rags, the Scotch bear off the palm; and -possibly no one will be surprised to hear, that of all rags Irish rags -are the most worn, the filthiest, and generally the most unprofitable. -The gradations of value in the world of rags are indeed remarkable. -I was shown rags worth 50_l._ per ton, and rags worth only 30_s._ -The best class is formed of the remains of fine cloth, the produce -of which, eked out with a few bundles of fresh wool, is destined -to go forth to the world again as broad cloth, or at all events as -pilot cloth. Fragments of damask and skirts of merino dresses form -the staple of middle-class rags; and even the very worst bales--they -appear unmitigated mashes of frowzy filth--afford here and there -some fragments of calico, which are wrought up into brown paper. The -refuse of all, mixed with the stuff which even the shoddy-making devil -rejects, is packed off to the agricultural districts for use as manure, -to fertilize the hop-gardens of Kent. - -“Under the rag ware-room is the sorting and picking room. Here the -bales are opened, and their contents piled in close, poverty-smelling -masses, upon the floor. The operatives are entirely women. They sit -upon low stools, or half sunk and half enthroned amid heaps of the -filthy goods, busily employed in arranging them according to the colour -and the quality of the morsels, and from the more pretending quality -of rags carefully ripping out every particle of cotton which they can -detect. Piles of rags of different sorts, dozens of feet high, are the -obvious fruits of their labour. All these women are over eighteen years -of age, and the wages which they are paid for ten hours’ work are 6_s._ -per week. They look squalid and dirty enough; but all of them chatter -and several sing over their noisome labour. The atmosphere of the room -is close and oppressive; and although no particularly offensive smell -is perceptible, there is a choky, mildewy sort of odour--a hot, moist -exhalation--arising from the sodden smouldering piles, as the workwomen -toss armfuls of rags from one heap to another. This species of work is -the lowest and foulest which any phase of the factory system can show. - -“The devils are upon the ground floor. The choking dust bursts out from -door and window, and it is not until a minute or so that the visitor -can see the workmen moving amid the clouds, catching up armfuls of the -sorted rags and tossing them into the machine to be torn into fibry -fragments by the whirling revolutions of its teeth. The place in which -this is done is a large bare room--the uncovered beams above, the rough -stone walls, and the woodwork of the unglazed windows being as it were -furred over with clinging woolly matter. On the floor, the dust and -coarse filaments lie as if ‘it had been snowing snuff.’ The workmen are -coated with the flying powder. They wear bandages over their mouths, -so as to prevent as much as possible the inhalation of the dust, and -seem loath to remove the protection for a moment. The rag grinders, -with their squalid, dust-strewn garments, powdered to a dull grayish -hue, and with their bandages tied over the greater part of their faces, -move about like reanimated mummies in their swathings, looking most -ghastly. The wages of these poor creatures do not exceed 7_s._ or 8_s._ -a week. The men are much better paid, none of them making less than -18_s._ a week, and many earning as much as 22_s._ Not one of them, -however, will admit that he found the trade injurious. The dust tickles -them a little, they say, that is all. They feel it most of a Monday -morning, after being all Sunday in the fresh air. When they first take -to the work it hurts their throats a little, but they drink mint tea, -and that soon cures them. They are all more or less subject to ‘shoddy -fever,’ they confess, especially after tenting the grinding of the -very dusty sorts of stuff--worsted stockings, for example. The shoddy -fever is a sort of stuffing of the head and nose, with sore throat, and -it sometimes forces them to give over work for two or three days, or -at most a week; but the disorder, the workmen say, is not fatal, and -leaves no particularly bad effects. - -“In spite of all this, however, it is manifestly impossible for -human lungs to breathe under such circumstances without suffering. -The visitor exposed to the atmosphere for ten minutes experiences -an unpleasant choky sensation in the throat, which lasts all the -remainder of the day. The rag grinders, moreover, according to the -best accounts, are very subject to asthmatic complaints, particularly -when the air is dull and warm. The shoddy fever is said to be like a -bad cold, with constant acrid running from the nose, and a great deal -of expectoration. It is when there is a particularly dirty lot of rags -to be ground that the people are usually attacked in this way, but the -fever seldom keeps them more than two or three days from their work. - -“In other mills the rags are not only ground, but the shoddy is worked -up into coarse bad cloth, a great proportion of which is sent to -America for slave clothing (and much now sold to the slop-shops). - -“After the rags have been devilled into shoddy, the remaining processes -are much the same, although conducted in a coarser way, as those -performed in the manufacture of woollen cloth. The weaving is, for the -most part, carried on at the homes of the workpeople. The domestic -arrangements consist, in every case, of two tolerably large rooms, one -above the other, with a cellar beneath--a plan of construction called -in Yorkshire a “house and a chamber.” The chamber has generally a bed -amid the looms. The weavers complain of irregular work and diminished -wages. Their average pay, one week with another, with their wives to -wind for them--_i. e._, to place the thread upon the bobbin which -goes into the shuttle--is hardly so much as 10_s._ a week. They work -long hours, often fourteen per day. Sometimes the weaver is a small -capitalist with perhaps half a dozen looms, and a hand-jenny for -spinning thread, the workpeople being within his own family as regular -apprentices and journeymen.” - -Dr. Hemingway, a gentleman who has a large practice in the shoddy -district, has given the following information touching the “shoddy -fever”:-- - -“The disease popularly known as ‘shoddy fever,’ and which is of -frequent occurrence, is a species of bronchitis, caused by the -irritating effect of the floating particles of dust upon the mucous -membrane of the trachea and its ramifications. In general, the -attack is easily cured--particularly if the patient has not been for -any length of time exposed to the exciting cause--by effervescing -saline draughts to allay the symptomatic febrile action, followed by -expectorants to relieve the mucous membrane of the irritating dust; -but a long continuance of employment in the contaminated atmosphere, -bringing on as it does repeated attacks of the disease, is too apt, -in the end, to undermine the constitution, and produce a train of -pectoral diseases, often closing with pulmonary consumption. Ophthalmic -attacks are by no means uncommon among the shoddy-grinders, some of -whom, however, wear wire-gauze spectacles to protect the eyes. As -regards the effect of the occupation upon health, it may shorten life -by about five years on a rough average, taking, of course, as the point -of comparison, the average longevity of the district in which the -manufacture is carried on.” - -“Shoddy fever” is, in fact, a modification of the very fatal disease -induced by what is called “dry grinding” at Sheffield; but of course -the particles of woollen filament are less fatal in their influence -than the floating steel dust produced by the operation in question. - -At one time shoddy cloth was not good and firm enough to be used for -other purposes than such as padding by tailors, and in the inner -linings of carriages, by coach-builders. It was not used for purposes -which would expose it to stress, but only to a moderate wear or -friction. Now shoddy, which modern improvements have made susceptible -of receiving a fine dye (it always looked a dead colour at one -period), is made into cloth for soldiers’ and sailors’ uniforms and -for pilot-coats; into blanketing, drugget, stair and other carpeting, -and into those beautiful table-covers, with their rich woollen look, -on which elegantly drawn and elaborately coloured designs are printed -through the application of aquafortis. Thus the rags which the beggar -could no longer hang about him to cover his nakedness, may be a -component of the soldier’s or sailor’s uniform, the carpet of a palace, -or the library table-cover of a prime-minister. - -There is yet another use for old woollen clothes. What is not good -for shoddy is good for manure, and more especially for the manure -prepared by the agriculturists in Kent, Sussex, and Herefordshire, -for the culture of a difficult plant--hops. It is good also for corn -land (judiciously used), so that we again have the remains of the old -garment in our beer or our bread. - - * * * * * - -I have hitherto spoken of _woollen_ fabrics. The garments of other -materials are seldom diverted from their original use, for as long as -they will hold together they can be sold for exportation to Ireland, -though of course for very trifling amounts. - -The black _Velvet_ and _Satin Waistcoats_--the latter now so commonly -worn--are almost always resold as waistcoats, and oft enough, when -rebound and rebuttoned, make a very respectable looking garment. -Nothing sells better to the working-classes than a _good_ second-hand -vest of the two materials of satin or velvet. If the satin, however, -be so worn and frayed that mending is impossible, the back, if not in -the same plight, is removed for rebacking of any waistcoat, and the -satin thrown away, one of the few things which in its last stage is -utterly valueless. It is the same with silk waistcoats, and for the -most part with velvet, but a velvet waistcoat may be thrown in the -refuse heap with the woollen rags for manure. The coloured waistcoats -of silk or velvet are dealt with in the same way. At one time, -when under-waistcoats were worn, the edges being just discernible, -quantities were made out of the full waistcoats where a sufficiency -of the stuff was unworn. This fashion is now becoming less and -less followed, and is principally in vogue in the matter of white -under-waistcoats. For the jean and other vests--even if a mixture of -materials--there is the same use as what I have described of the black -satin, and failing that, they are generally transferable to the rag-bag. - -_Hats_ have become in greater demand than ever among the street-buyers -since the introduction into the London trade, and to so great an -extent, of the silk, velvet, French, or Parisian hats. The construction -of these hats is the same, and the easy way in which the hat-bodies are -made, has caused a number of poor persons, with no previous knowledge -of hat-making, to enter into the trade. “There’s hundreds starving at -it,” said a hat-manufacturer to me, “in Bermondsey, Lock’s-fields, and -the Borough; ay, hundreds.” This facility in the making of the bodies -of the new silk hats is quite as available in the restoration of the -bodies of the old hats, as I shall show from the information of a -highly-intelligent artisan, who told me that of all people he disliked -rich slop-sellers; but there was another class which he disliked more, -and that was rich slop-buyers. - -The bodies of the stuff or beaver hats of the best quality are made -of a firm felt, wrought up of fine wool, rabbits’ hair, &c., and at -once elastic, firm, and light. Over this is placed the nap, prepared -from the hair of the beaver. The bodies of the silk hats are made of -calico, which is blocked (as indeed is the felt) and stiffened and -pasted up until “only a hat-maker can tell,” as it was expressed to -me, “good sound bodies from bad; and the slop-masters go for the cheap -and bad.” The covering is not a nap of any hair, but is of silk or -velvet (the words are used indifferently in the trade) manufactured for -the purpose. Thus if an old hat be broken, or rather crushed out of -all shape, the body can be glazed and sized up again so as to suit the -slop hatter, if sold to him as a body, and that whether it be of felt -or calico. If, however, the silk cover of the hat be not worn utterly -away, the body, without stripping off the cover, can be re-blocked -and re-set, and the silk-velvet trimmed up and “set,” or re-dyed, and -a decent hat is sometimes produced by these means. More frequently, -however, a steeping shower of rain destroys the whole fabric. - -_Second-hand Caps_ are rarely brought into this trade. - -Such things as _drawers_, _flannel waistcoats_, and what is sometimes -called “inner wear,” sell very well when washed up, patched--for -patches do not matter in a garment hidden from the eye when worn--or -mended in any manner. Flannel waistcoats and drawers are often in -demand by the street-sellers and the street-labourers, as they are -considered “good against the rheumatics.” These habiliments are often -sold unrepaired, having been merely washed, as the poor men’s wives may -be competent to execute an easy bit of tailoring; or perhaps the men -themselves, if they have been reared as mechanics; and they believe -(perhaps erroneously) that so they obtain a better bargain. _Shirts_ -are repaired and sold as shirts, or for old linen; the trade is not -large. - -_Men’s Stockings_ are darned up, but only when there is little to be -done in darning, as they are retailed at 2_d._ the pair. The sale is -not very great, for the supply is not. “Lots might be sold,” I was -informed, “if they was to be had, for them flash coves never cares what -they wears under their Wellingtons.” - -_The Women’s Apparel_ is sold to be re-worn in its original form quite -as frequently, or more frequently, than it is mended up by the sellers; -the purchasers often preferring to make the alterations themselves. A -gown of stuff, cotton, or any material, if full-sized, is frequently -bought and altered to fit a smaller person or a child, and so the -worn parts may be cut away. It is very rarely also that the apparel -of the middle-classes is made into any other article, with the sole -exception, perhaps, of _silk gowns_. If a silk gown be not too much -frayed, it is easily cleaned and polished up, so as to present a new -gloss, and is sold readily enough; but if it be too far gone for this -process, the old clothes renovator is often puzzled as to what uses to -put it. A portion of a black silk dress may be serviceable to re-line -the cuffs of the better kind of coats. There is seldom enough, I was -told, to re-line the two skirts of a surtout, and it is difficult to -match old silk; a man used to buying a good second-hand surtout, I was -assured, would soon detect a difference in the shade of the silk, if -the skirts were re-lined from the remains of different gowns, and say, -“I’ll not give any such money for that piebald thing.” Skirts may be -sometimes re-lined this way on the getting up of frock coats, but very -rarely. There is the same difficulty in using a coloured silk gown -for the re-covering of a parasol. The quantity may not be enough for -the gores, and cannot be matched to satisfy the eye, for the buyer of -a silk parasol even in Rosemary-lane may be expected to be critical. -When there is enough of good silk for the purposes I have mentioned, -then, it must be borne in mind, the gown may be more valuable, because -saleable to be re-worn as a gown. It is the same with satin dresses, -but only a few of them, in comparison with the silk, are to be seen at -the Old Clothes’ Exchange. - -Among the purposes to which portions of worn silk gowns are put are -the making of spencers for little girls (usually by the purchasers, -or by the dress-maker, who goes out to work for 1_s._ a day), of -children’s bonnets, for the lining of women’s bonnets, the re-lining -of muffs and fur-tippets, the patching of quilts (once a rather -fashionable thing), the inner lining or curtains to a book-case, and -other household appliances of a like kind. This kind of silk, too, no -matter in how minute pieces, is bought by the fancy cabinet-makers (the -small masters) for the lining of their dressing-cases and work-boxes -supplied to the warehouses, but these poor artisans have neither means -nor leisure to buy such articles of those connected with the traffic -of the Old Clothes’ Exchange, but must purchase it, of course at an -enhanced price, of a broker who has bought it at the Exchange, or in -some establishment connected with it. The second-hand silk is bought -also for the dressing of dolls for the toy-shops, and for the lining of -some toys. The hat-manufacturers of the cheaper sort, at one time, used -second-hand silk for the padded lining of hats, but such is rarely the -practice now. It was once used in the same manner by the bookbinders -for lining the inner part of the back of a book. If there be any part -of silk in a dress not suitable for any of these purposes it is wasted, -or what is accounted wasted, although it may have been in wear for -years. It is somewhat remarkable, that while woollen and even cotton -goods can be “shoddied”--and if they are too rotten for that, they are -made available for manure, or in the manufacture of paper--no use is -made of the refuse of silk. Though one of the most beautiful and costly -of textile fabrics, its “remains” are thrown aside, when a beggar’s -rags are preserved and made profitable. There can be little doubt that -silk, like cotton, could be shoddied, but whether such a speculation -would be remunerative or not is no part of my present inquiry. - -There is not, as I shall subsequently show, so great an exportation of -female attire as might be expected in comparison with male apparel; the -poorer classes of the metropolis being too anxious to get any decent -gown when within their slender means. - -_Stays_, unless of superior make and in good condition, are little -bought by the classes who are the chief customers of the old-clothes’ -men in London. I did not hear any reason for this from any of the -old-clothes’ people. One man thought, if there was a family of -daughters, the stays which had became too small for the elder girl were -altered for the younger, and that poor women liked to mend their old -stays as long as they would stick together. Perhaps, there may be some -repugnance--especially among the class of servant-maids who have not -had “to rough it”--to wear street-collected stays; a repugnance not, -perhaps, felt in the wearing of a gown which probably can be washed, -and is not worn so near the person. The stays that are collected are -for the most part exported, a great portion being sent to Ireland. If -they are “worn to rags,” the bones are taken out; but in the slop-made -stays, it is not whalebone, but wood that is used to give, or preserve -the due shape of the corset, and then the stays are valueless. - -_Old Stockings_ are of great sale both for home wear and foreign trade. -In the trade of women’s stockings there has been in the last 20 or 25 -years a considerable change. Before that period black stockings were -worn by servant girls, and the families of working people and small -tradesmen; they “saved washing.” Now, even in Petticoat-lane, women’s -stockings are white, or “mottled,” or some light-coloured, very rarely -black. I have heard this change attributed to what is rather vaguely -called “pride.” May it not be owing to a more cultivated sense of -cleanliness? The women’s stockings are sold darned and undarned, and -at (retail) prices from 1_d._ to 4_d._; 1_d._ or 2_d._ being the most -frequent prices. - -The _petticoats_ and other under clothing are not much bought -second-hand by the poor women of London, and are exported. - -_Women’s caps_ used to be sold second-hand, I was told, both in the -streets and the shops, but long ago, and before muslin and needlework -were so cheap. - -I heard of one article which formerly supplied considerable “stuff” -(the word used) for second-hand purposes, and was a part, but never -a considerable part, of the trade at Rag-fair. These were the -“_pillions_,” or large, firm, solid cushions which were attached to a -saddle, so that a horse “carried double.” Fifty years ago the farmer -and his wife, of the more prosperous order, went regularly to church -and market on one horse, a pillion sustaining the good dame. To the -best sort of these pillions was appended what was called the “pillion -cloth,” often of a fine, but thin quality, which being really a sort of -housing to the horse, cut straight and with few if any seams, was an -excellent material for what I am informed was formerly called “making -and mending.” The colour was almost exclusively drab or blue. The -pillion on which the squire’s lady rode--and Sheridan makes his _Lady -Teazle_ deny “the pillion and the coach-horse,” the butler being her -cavalier--was a perfect piece of upholstery, set off with lace and -fringes, which again were excellent for second-hand sale. Such a means -of conveyance may still linger in some secluded country parts, but it -is generally speaking obsolete. - -_Boots_ and _Shoes_ are not to be had, I am told, in sufficient -quantity for the demand from the slop-shops, the “translators,” and -the second-hand dealers. Great quantities of second-hand boots and -shoes are sent to Ireland to be “translated” there. Of all the wares -in this traffic, the clothing for the feet is what is most easily -prepared to cheat the eye of the inexperienced, the imposition having -the aids of heel-ball, &c., to fill up crevices, and of blacking to -hide defects. Even when the boots or shoes are so worn out that no -one will put a pair on his feet, though purchaseable for about 1_d._, -the insoles are ripped out; the soles, if there be a sufficiency of -leather, are shaped into insoles for children’s shoes, and these -insoles are sold in bundles of two dozen pairs at 2_d._ the bundle. -So long as the boot or shoe be not in many holes, it can be cobblered -up in Monmouth-street or elsewhere. Of the “translating” business -transacted in those localities I had the following interesting account -from a man who was lately engaged in it. - -“Translation, as I understand it (said my informant), is this--to -take a worn, old pair of shoes or boots, and by repairing them make -them appear as if left off with hardly any wear--as if they were -only soiled. I’ll tell you the way they manage in Monmouth-street. -There are in the trade ‘horses’ heads’--a ‘horse’s head’ is the foot -of a boot with sole and heel, and part of a front--the back and the -remainder of the front having been used for refooting boots. There -are also ‘stand-bottoms’ and ‘lick-ups.’ A ‘stand-bottom’ is where -the shoe appears to be only soiled, and a ‘lick-up’ is a boot or shoe -re-lasted to take the wrinkles out, the edges of the soles having -been rasped and squared, and then blacked up to hide blemishes, and -the bottom covered with a ‘smother,’ which I will describe. There -is another article called a ‘flyer,’ that is, a shoe soled without -having been welted. In Monmouth-street a ‘horse’s head’ is generally -retailed at 2_s._ 6_d._, but some fetch 4_s._ 6_d._--that’s the -extreme price. They cost the translator from 1_s._ a dozen pair to -8_s._, but those at 8_s._ are good, and are used for the making up -of Wellington boots. Some ‘horses’ heads’--such as are cut off that -the boots may be re-footed on account of old fashion, or a misfit, -when hardly worn--fetch 2_s._ 6_d._ a pair, and they are made up as -new-footed boots, and sell from 10_s._ to 15_s._ The average price -of feet (that is, for the ‘horse’s head,’ as we call it) is 4_d._, -and a pair of backs say 2_d._; the back is attached loosely by chair -stitching, as it is called, to the heel, instead of being stitched to -the in-sole, as in a new boot. The wages for all this is 1_s._ 4_d._ -in Monmouth-street (in Union-street, Borough, 1_s._ 6_d._); but I was -told by a master that he had got the work done in Gray’s-inn-lane at -9_d._ Put it, however, at 1_s._ 4_d._ wages--then, with 4_d._ and 2_d._ -for the feet and back, we have 1_s._ 10_d._ outlay (the workman finds -his own grindery), and 8_d._ profit on each pair sold at a rate of -2_s._ 6_d._ Some masters will sell from 70 to 80 pairs per week: that’s -under the mark; and that’s in ‘horses’ heads’ alone. One man employs, -or did lately employ, seven men on ‘horses’ heads’ solely. The profit -generally, in fair shops, in ‘stand-bottoms,’ is from 1_s._ 6_d._ to -2_s._ per pair, as they sell generally at 3_s._ 6_d._ One man takes, -or did take, 100_l._ in a day (it was calculated as an average) over -the counter, and all for the sort of shoes I have described. The profit -of a ‘lick-up’ is the same as that of a ‘stand-bottom.’ To show the -villanous way the ‘stand-bottoms’ are got up, I will tell you this. You -have seen a broken upper-leather; well, we place a piece of leather, -waxed, underneath the broken part, on which we set a few stitches -through and through. When dry and finished, we take what is called a -‘soft-heel-ball’ and ‘smother’ it over, so that it sometimes would -deceive a currier, as it appears like the upper leather. With regard -to the bottoms, the worn part of the sole is opened from the edge, a -piece of leather is made to fit exactly into the hole or worn part, and -it is then nailed and filed until level. Paste is then applied, and -‘smother’ put over the part, and that imitates the dust of the road. -This ‘smother’ is obtained from the dust of the room. It is placed in -a silk stocking, tied at both ends, and then shook through, just like -a powder-puff, only we shake at both ends. It is powdered out into -our leather apron, and mixed with a certain preparation which I will -describe to you (he did so), but I would rather not have it published, -as it would lead others to practise similar deceptions. I believe -there are about 2000 translators, so you may judge of the extent of -the trade; and translators are more constantly employed than any other -branch of the business. Many make a great deal of money. A journeyman -translator can earn from 3_s._ to 4_s._ a day. You can give the average -at 20_s._ a week, as the wages are good. It must be good, for we have -2_s._ for soling, heeling, and welting a pair of boots; and some men -don’t get more for making them. Monmouth-street is nothing like what -it was; as to curious old garments, that’s all gone. There’s not one -English master in the translating business in Monmouth-street--they are -all Irish; and there is now hardly an English workman there--perhaps -not one. I believe that all the tradesmen in Monmouth-street make -their workmen lodge with them. I was lodging with one before I married -a little while ago, and I know the system to be the same now as it -was then, unless, indeed, it be altered for the worse. To show how -disgusting these lodgings must be, I will state this:--I knew a -Roman Catholic, who was attentive to his religious duties, but when -pronounced on the point of death, and believing firmly that he was -dying, he would not have his priest administer extreme unction, for -the room was in such a filthy and revolting state he would not allow -him to see it. Five men worked and slept in that room, and they were -working and sleeping there in the man’s illness--all the time that -his life was despaired of. He was ill nine weeks. Unless the working -shoemaker lodged there he would not be employed. Each man pays 2_s._ a -week. I was there once, but I couldn’t sleep in such a den; and five -nights out of the seven I slept at my mother’s, but my lodging had to -be paid all the same. These men (myself excepted) were all Irish, and -all teetotallers, as was the master. How often was the room cleaned -out, do you say? Never, sir, never. The refuse of the men’s labour -was generally burnt, smudged away in the grate, smelling terribly. -It would stifle you, though it didn’t me, because I got used to it. -I lodged in Union-street once. My employer had a room known as the -‘barracks;’ every lodger paid him 2_s._ 6_d._ a week. Five men worked -and slept there, and three were _sitters_--that is, men who paid 1_s._ -a week to sit there and work, lodging elsewhere. A little before that -there were six sitters. The furniture was one table, one chair, and -two beds. There was no place for purposes of decency: it fell to bits -from decay, and was never repaired. This barrack man always stopped the -2_s._ 6_d._ for lodging, if he gave you only that amount of work in the -week. The beds were decent enough; but as to Monmouth-street! you don’t -see a clean sheet there for nine weeks; and, recollect, such snobs are -dirty fellows. There was no chair in the Monmouth-street room that -I have spoken of, the men having only their seats used at work; but -when the beds were let down for the night, the seats had to be placed -in the fire-place because there was no space for them in the room. In -many houses in Monmouth-street there is a system of sub-letting among -the journeymen. In one room lodged a man and his wife (a laundress -worked there), four children, and two single young men. The wife was -actually delivered in this room whilst the men kept at their work--they -never lost an hour’s work; nor is this an unusual case--it’s not an -isolated case at all. I could instance ten or twelve cases of two or -three married people living in one room in that street. The rats have -scampered over the beds that lay huddled together in the kitchen. The -husband of the wife confined as I have described paid 4_s._ a week, -and the two single men paid 2_s._ a week each, so the master was rent -free; and he received from each man 1_s._ 6_d._ a week for tea (without -sugar), and no bread and butter, and 2_d._ a day for potatoes--that’s -the regular charge.” - -In connection with the translation of old boots and shoes, I have -obtained the following statistics. There are-- - - In Drury-lane and streets adjacent, about 50 shops. - Seven-dials do. do. 100 do. - Monmouth-street do. do. 40 do. - Hanway-court, Oxford-street do. 4 do. - Lisson-grove do. do. 100 do. - Paddington do. do. 30 do. - Petticoat-lane (shops, stands, &c.) do. 200 do. - Somers’-town do. do. 50 do. - Field-lane, Saffron-hill do. 40 do. - Clerkenwell do. 30 do. - Bethnal-green, Spitalfields do. 100 do. - Rosemary-lane, &c. do. 30 do. - --- - 774 shops, - -employing upwards of 2000 men in making-up and repairing old boots and -shoes; besides hundreds of poor men and women who strive for a crust -by buying and selling the old material, previously to translating it, -and by mending up what will mend. They or their children stand in the -street and try to sell them. - -Monmouth-street, now the great old shoe district, has been “sketched” -by Mr. Dickens, not as regards its connection with the subject of -street-sale or of any particular trade, but as to its general character -and appearance. I first cite Mr. Dickens’ description of the Seven -Dials, of which Monmouth-street is a seventh:-- - -“The stranger who finds himself in ‘The Dials’ for the first time, -and stands, Belzoni-like, at the entrance of seven obscure passages, -uncertain which to take, will see enough around him to keep his -curiosity and attention awake for no inconsiderable time. From the -irregular square into which he has plunged, the streets and courts -dart in all directions, until they are lost in the unwholesome vapour -which hangs over the house-tops, and renders the dirty perspective -uncertain and confined; and, lounging at every corner, as if they came -there to take a few gasps of such fresh air as has found its way so -far, but is too much exhausted already, to be enabled to force itself -into the narrow alleys around, are groups of people, whose appearance -and dwellings would fill any mind but a regular Londoner’s with -astonishment. - -“In addition to the numerous groups who are idling about the gin-shops -and squabbling in the centre of the road, every post in the open -space has its occupant, who leans against it for hours, with listless -perseverance. It is odd enough that one class of men in London appear -to have no enjoyment beyond leaning against posts. We never saw a -regular bricklayer’s labourer take any other recreation, fighting -excepted. Pass through St. Giles’s in the evening of a week-day, -there they are in their fustian dresses, spotted with brick-dust and -whitewash, leaning against posts. Walk through Seven Dials on Sunday -morning: there they are again, drab or light corduroy trowsers, Blucher -boots, blue coats, and great yellow waistcoats, leaning against posts. -The idea of a man dressing himself in his best clothes, to lean against -a post all day! - -“The peculiar character of these streets, and the close resemblance -each one bears to its neighbour, by no means tends to decrease the -bewilderment in which the unexperienced wayfarer through ‘the Dials’ -finds himself involved. He traverses streets of dirty, straggling -houses, with now and then an unexpected court, composed of buildings -as ill-proportioned and deformed as the half-naked children that -wallow in the kennels. Here and there, a little dark chandler’s shop, -with a cracked bell hung up behind the door to announce the entrance -of a customer, or betray the presence of some young gentleman in -whom a passion for shop tills has developed itself at an early age; -others, as if for support, against some handsome lofty building, which -usurps the place of a low dingy public-house; long rows of broken -and patched windows expose plants that may have flourished when ‘The -Dials’ were built, in vessels as dirty as ‘The Dials’ themselves; and -shops for the purchase of rags, bones, old iron, and kitchen-stuff, -vie in cleanliness with the bird-fanciers and rabbit-dealers, which -one might fancy so many arks, but for the irresistible conviction -that no bird in its proper senses, who was permitted to leave one of -them would ever come back again. Brokers’ shops, which would seem to -have been established by humane individuals, as refuges for destitute -bugs, interspersed with announcements of day-schools, penny theatres, -petition-writers, mangles, and music for balls or routs, complete the -‘still-life’ of the subject; and dirty men, filthy women, squalid -children, fluttering shuttlecocks, noisy battledores, reeking pipes, -bad fruit, more than doubtful oysters, attenuated cats, depressed dogs, -and anatomical fowls, are its cheerful accompaniments. - -“If the external appearance of the houses, or a glance at their -inhabitants, present but few attractions, a closer acquaintance with -either is little calculated to alter one’s first impression. Every room -has its separate tenant, and every tenant is, by the same mysterious -dispensation which causes a country curate to ‘increase and multiply’ -most marvellously, generally the head of a numerous family. - -“The man in the shop, perhaps, is in the baked ‘jemmy’ line, or the -fire-wood and hearth-stone line, or any other line which requires a -floating capital of eighteen pence or thereabouts: and he and his -family live in the shop, and the small back parlour behind it. Then -there is an Irish labourer and _his_ family in the back kitchen, and -a jobbing-man--carpet-beater and so forth--with _his_ family, in the -front one. In the front one pair there’s another man with another wife -and family, and in the back one-pair there’s ‘a young ’oman as takes -in tambour-work, and dresses quite genteel,’ who talks a good deal -about ‘my friend,’ and can’t ‘abear anything low.’ The second floor -front, and the rest of the lodgers, are just a second edition of the -people below, except a shabby-genteel man in the back attic, who has -his half-pint of coffee every morning from the coffee-shop next door -but one, which boasts a little front den called a coffee-room, with a -fire-place, over which is an inscription, politely requesting that, -‘to prevent mistakes,’ customers will ‘please to pay on delivery.’ The -shabby-genteel man is an object of some mystery, but as he leads a life -of seclusion, and never was known to buy anything beyond an occasional -pen, except half-pints of coffee, penny loaves, and ha’porths of ink, -his fellow-lodgers very naturally suppose him to be an author; and -rumours are current in the Dials, that he writes poems for Mr. Warren. - -“Now any body who passed through the Dials on a hot summer’s evening, -and saw the different women of the house gossiping on the steps, would -be apt to think that all was harmony among them, and that a more -primitive set of people than the native Diallers could not be imagined. -Alas! the man in the shop illtreats his family; the carpet-beater -extends his professional pursuits to his wife; the one-pair front has -an undying feud with the two-pair front, in consequence of the two-pair -front persisting in dancing over his (the one-pair front’s) head, when -he and his family have retired for the night; the two-pair back _will_ -interfere with the front kitchen’s children; the Irishman comes home -drunk every other night, and attacks every body; and the one-pair back -screams at everything. Animosities spring up between floor and floor; -the very cellar asserts his equality. Mrs. A. ‘smacks’ Mrs. B.’s child -for ‘making faces.’ Mrs. B. forthwith throws cold water over Mrs. A.’s -child for ‘calling names.’ The husbands are embroiled--the quarrel -becomes general--an assault is the consequence, and a police-officer -the result.” - -Of Monmouth-street the same author says:-- - -“We have always entertained a particular attachment towards -Monmouth-street, as the only true and real emporium for second-hand -wearing apparel. Monmouth-street is venerable from its antiquity, -and respectable from its usefulness. Holywell-street we despise; the -red-headed and red-whiskered Jews who forcibly haul you into their -squalid houses, and thrust you into a suit of clothes whether you will -or not, we detest. - -“The inhabitants of Monmouth-street are a distinct class; a peaceable -and retiring race, who immure themselves for the most part in deep -cellars, or small back parlours, and who seldom come forth into the -world, except in the dusk and coolness of evening, when they may -be seen seated, in chairs on the pavement, smoking their pipes, or -watching the gambols of their engaging children as they revel in the -gutter, a happy troop of infantine scavengers. Their countenances bear -a thoughtful and a dirty cast, certain indications of their love of -traffic; and their habitations are distinguished by that disregard of -outward appearance, and neglect of personal comfort, so common among -people who are constantly immersed in profound speculations, and deeply -engaged in sedentary pursuits. - -“Through every alteration and every change Monmouth-street has still -remained the burial-place of the fashions; and such, to judge from all -present appearances, it will remain until there are no more fashions to -bury.” - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF PETTICOAT AND ROSEMARY-LANES. - -Immediately connected with the trade of the central mart for old -clothes are the adjoining streets of Petticoat-lane, and those of the -not very distant Rosemary-lane. In these localities is a second-hand -garment-seller at almost every step, but the whole stock of these -traders, decent, frowsy, half-rotten, or smart and good habiliments, -has first passed through the channel of the Exchange. The men who sell -these goods have all bought them at the Exchange--the exceptions being -insignificant--so that this street-sale is but an extension of the -trade of the central mart, with the addition that the wares have been -made ready for use. - -[Illustration: SCENE IN PETTICOAT-LANE.] - -A cursory observation might lead an inexperienced person to the -conclusion, that these old clothes traders who are standing by the -bundles of gowns, or lines of coats, hanging from their door-posts, -or in the place from which the window has been removed, or at the -sides of their houses, or piled in the street before them, are -drowsy people, for they seem to sit among their property, lost in -thought, or caring only for the fumes of a pipe. But let any one -indicate, even by an approving glance, the likelihood of his becoming -a customer, and see if there be any lack of diligence in business. -Some, indeed, pertinaciously invite attention to their wares; some -(and often well-dressed women) leave their premises a few yards to -accost a stranger pointing to a “good dress-coat” or “an excellent -frock” (coat). I am told that this practice is less pursued than it -was, and it seems that the solicitations are now addressed chiefly -to strangers. These strangers, persons happening to be passing, or -visitors from curiosity, are at once recognised; for as in all not very -extended localities, where the inhabitants pursue a similar calling, -they are, as regards their knowledge of one another, as the members -of one family. Thus a stranger is as easily recognised as he would -be in a little rustic hamlet where a strange face is not seen once a -quarter. Indeed so narrow are some of the streets and alleys in this -quarter, and so little is there of privacy, owing to the removal, in -warm weather, even of the casements, that the room is commanded in all -its domestic details; and as among these details there is generally a -further display of goods similar to the articles outside, the jammed-up -places really look like a great family house with merely a sort of -channel, dignified by the name of a street, between the right and left -suites of apartments. - -In one off-street, where on a Sunday there is a considerable demand for -Jewish sweet-meats by Christian boys, and a little sly, and perhaps not -very successful gambling on the part of the ingenuous youth to possess -themselves of these confectionaries at the easiest rate, there are -some mounds of builders’ rubbish upon which, if an inquisitive person -ascended, he could command the details of the upper rooms, probably the -bed chambers--if in their crowded apartments these traders can find -spaces for beds. - -It must not be supposed that old clothes are more than the great staple -of the traffic of this district. Wherever persons are assembled there -are certain to be purveyors of provisions and of cool or hot drinks -for warm or cold weather. The interior of the Old Clothes Exchange -has its oyster-stall, its fountain of ginger-beer, its coffee-house, -and ale-house, and a troop of peripatetic traders, boys principally, -carrying trays. Outside the walls of the Exchange this trade is still -thicker. A Jew boy thrusts a tin of highly-glazed cakes and pastry -under the people’s noses here; and on the other side a basket of -oranges regales the same sense by its proximity. At the next step -the thoroughfare is interrupted by a gaudy-looking ginger-beer, -lemonade, raspberryade, and nectar fountain; “a halfpenny a glass, -a halfpenny a glass, sparkling lemonade!” shouts the vendor as you -pass. The fountain and the glasses glitter in the sun, the varnish of -the wood-work shines, the lemonade really does sparkle, and all looks -clean--except the owner. Close by is a brawny young Irishman, his red -beard unshorn for perhaps ten days, and his neck, where it had been -exposed to the weather, a far deeper red than his beard, and he is -carrying a small basket of nuts, and selling them as gravely as if they -were articles suited to his strength. A little lower is the cry, in a -woman’s voice, “Fish, fried fish! Ha’penny; fish, fried fish!” and so -monotonously and mechanically is it ejaculated that one might think -the seller’s life was passed in uttering these few words, even as a -rook’s is in crying “Caw, caw.” Here I saw a poor Irishwoman who had -a child on her back buy a piece of this fish (which may be had “hot” -or “cold”), and tear out a piece with her teeth, and this with all the -eagerness and relish of appetite or hunger; first eating the brown -outside and then _sucking_ the bone. I never saw fish look firmer or -whiter. That fried fish is to be procured is manifest to more senses -than one, for you can hear the sound of its being fried, and smell -the fumes from the oil. In an open window opposite frizzle on an old -tray, small pieces of thinly-cut meat, with a mixture of onions, kept -hot by being placed over an old pan containing charcoal. In another -room a mess of batter is smoking over a grate. “Penny a lot, oysters,” -resounds from different parts. Some of the sellers command two -streets by establishing their stalls or tubs at a corner. Lads pass, -carrying sweet-stuff on trays. I observed one very dark-eyed Hebrew -boy chewing the hard-bake he vended--if it were not a substitute--with -an expression of great enjoyment. Heaped-up trays of fresh-looking -sponge-cakes are carried in tempting pyramids. Youths have stocks of -large hard-looking biscuits, and walk about crying, “Ha’penny biscuits, -ha’penny; three a penny, biscuits;” these, with a morsel of cheese, -often supply a dinner or a luncheon. Dates and figs, as dry as they -are cheap, constitute the stock in trade of other street-sellers. -“Coker-nuts” are sold in pieces and entire; the Jew boy, when he -invites to the purchase of an entire nut, shaking it at the ear of the -customer. I was told by a costermonger that these juveniles had a way -of drumming with their fingers on the shell so as to satisfy a “green” -customer that the nut offered was a sound one. - -Such are the summer eatables and drinkables which I have lately seen -vended in the Petticoat-lane district. In winter there are, as long -as daylight lasts--and in no other locality perhaps does it last so -short a time--other street provisions, and, if possible, greater zeal -in selling them, the hours of business being circumscribed. There is -then the potato-can and the hot elder-wine apparatus, and smoking pies -and puddings, and roasted apples and chestnuts, and walnuts, and the -several fruits which ripen in the autumn--apples, pears, &c. - -Hitherto I have spoken only of such eatables and drinkables as are -ready for consumption, but to these the trade in the Petticoat-lane -district is by no means confined. There is fresh fish, generally of the -cheaper kinds, and smoked or dried fish (smoked salmon, moreover, is -sold ready cooked), and costermongers’ barrows, with their loads of -green vegetables, looking almost out of place amidst the surrounding -dinginess. The cries of “Fine cauliflowers,” “Large penny cabbages,” -“Eight a shilling, mackarel,” “Eels, live eels,” mix strangely with the -hubbub of the busier street. - -Other street-sellers also abound. You meet one man who says -mysteriously, and rather bluntly, “Buy a good knife, governor.” His -tone is remarkable, and if it attract attention, he may hint that he -has smuggled goods which he _must_ sell anyhow. Such men, I am told, -look out mostly for seamen, who often resort to Petticoat-lane; for -idle men like sailors on shore, and idle uncultivated men often love -to lounge where there is bustle. Pocket and pen knives and scissors, -“Penny a piece, penny a pair,” rubbed over with oil, both to hide -and prevent rust, are carried on trays, and spread on stalls, some -stalls consisting of merely a tea-chest lid on a stool. Another -man, carrying perhaps a sponge in his hand, and well-dressed, asks -you, in a subdued voice, if you want a good razor, as if he almost -suspected that you meditated suicide, and were looking out for the -means! This is another ruse to introduce smuggled (or “duffer’s”) -goods. Account-books are hawked. “Penny-a-quire,” shouts the itinerant -street stationer (who, if questioned, always declares he said “Penny -half quire”). “Stockings, stockings, two pence a pair.” “Here’s your -chewl-ry; penny, a penny; pick ’em and choose ’em.” [I may remark that -outside the window of one shop, or rather parlour, if there be any such -distinction here, I saw the handsomest, as far as I am able to judge, -and the best cheap jewellery I ever saw in the streets.] “Pencils, sir, -pencils; steel-pens, steel-pens; ha’penny, penny; pencils, steel-pens; -sealing-wax, wax, wax, wax!” shouts one, “Green peas, ha’penny a pint!” -cries another. - -These things, however, are but the accompaniments of the main traffic. -But as such things accompany all traffic, not on a small scale, and may -be found in almost every metropolitan thoroughfare, where the police -are not required, by the householders, to interfere, I will point out, -to show the distinctive character of the street-trade in this part, -what is _not_ sold and not encouraged. I saw no old books. There were -no flowers; no music, which indeed could not be heard except at the -outskirts of the din; and no beggars plying their vocation among the -trading class. - -Another peculiarity pertaining alike to this shop and street locality -is, that everything is at the veriest minimum of price; though it may -not be asked, it will assuredly be taken. The bottle of lemonade which -is elsewhere a penny is here a halfpenny. The tarts, which among the -street-sellers about the Royal Exchange are a halfpenny each, are -here a farthing. When lemons are two a-penny in St. George’s-market, -Oxford-street, as the long line of street stalls towards the western -extremity is called--they are three and four a-penny in Petticoat -and Rosemary lanes. Certainly there is a difference in size between -the dearer and the cheaper tarts and lemons, and perhaps there is a -difference in quality also, but the rule of a minimized cheapness has -no exceptions in this cheap-trading quarter. - -But Petticoat-lane is essentially the old clothes district. Embracing -the streets and alleys adjacent to Petticoat-lane, and including the -rows of old boots and shoes on the ground, there is perhaps between -two and three miles of old clothes. Petticoat-lane proper is long and -narrow, and to look down it is to look down a vista of many coloured -garments, alike on the sides and on the ground. The effect sometimes -is very striking, from the variety of hues, and the constant flitting, -or gathering, of the crowd into little groups of bargainers. Gowns of -every shade and every pattern are hanging up, but none, perhaps, look -either bright or white; it is a vista of dinginess, but many coloured -dinginess, as regards female attire. Dress coats, frock coats, great -coats, livery and game-keepers’ coats, paletots, tunics, trowsers, -knee-breeches, waistcoats, capes, pilot coats, working jackets, plaids, -hats, dressing gowns, shirts, Guernsey frocks, are all displayed. The -predominant colours are black and blue, but there is every colour; -the light drab of some aristocratic livery; the dull brown-green of -velveteen; the deep blue of a pilot jacket; the variegated figures of -the shawl dressing-gown; the glossy black of the restored garments; -the shine of newly turpentined black satin waistcoats; the scarlet and -green of some flaming tartan; these things--mixed with the hues of the -women’s garments, spotted and striped--certainly present a scene which -cannot be beheld in any other part of the greatest city of the world, -nor in any other portion of the world itself. - -The ground has also its array of colours. It is covered with -lines of boots and shoes, their shining black relieved here and -there by the admixture of females’ boots, with drab, green, plum -or lavender-coloured “legs,” as the upper part of the boot is -always called in the trade. There is, too, an admixture of men’s -“button-boots” with drab cloth legs; and of a few red, yellow, and -russet coloured slippers; and of children’s coloured morocco boots and -shoes. Handkerchiefs, sometimes of a gaudy orange pattern, are heaped -on a chair. Lace and muslins occupy small stands or are spread on the -ground. Black and drab and straw hats are hung up, or piled one upon -another and kept from falling by means of strings; while, incessantly -threading their way through all this intricacy, is a mass of people, -some of whose dresses speak of a recent purchase in the lane. - -I have said little of the shopkeepers of Petticoat-lane, nor is it -requisite for the full elucidation of my present subject (which -relates more especially to _street-sale_), that I should treat of them -otherwise than as being in a great degree connected with street-trade. -They stand in the street (in front of their premises), they trade in -the street, they smoke and read the papers in the street; and indeed -the greater part of their lives seems passed in the street, for, as I -have elsewhere remarked, the Saturday’s or Sabbath’s recreation to some -of them, after synagogue hours, seems to be to stand by their doors -looking about them. - -In the earlier periods of the day--the Jewish Sabbath excepted, when -there is no market at all in Petticoat-lane, not even among the Irish -and other old clothes people, or a mere nothing of a market--the -goods of these shops seem consigned to the care of the wives and -female members of the families of the proprietors. The Old Clothes -Exchange, like other places known by the name--the Royal Exchange, for -example--has its daily season of “high change.” This is, in summer, -from about half-past two to five, in winter, from two to four o’clock. -At those hours the crockman, and the bartering costermonger, and the -Jew collector, have sought the Exchange with their respective bargains; -and business there, and in the whole district, is at its fullest tide. -Before this hour the master of the shop or _store_ (the latter may be -the more appropriate word) is absent buying, collecting, or transacting -any business which requires him to leave home. It is curious to observe -how, during this absence, the women, but with most wary eyes to the -business, sit in the street carrying on their domestic occupations. -Some, with their young children about them, are shelling peas; some are -trimming vegetables; some plying their needles; some of the smaller -traders’ wives, as well as the street-sellers with a “pitch,” are -eating dinners out of basins (laid aside when a customer approaches), -and occasionally some may be engaged in what Mrs. Trollope has called -(in noticing a similar procedure in the boxes of an American theatre) -“the most maternal of all offices.” The females I saw thus occupied -were principally Jewesses, for though those resorting to the Old -Clothes Exchange and its concomitant branches may be but one-fourth -Jews, more than half of the remainder being Irish people, the -householders or shopkeepers of the locality, when capital is needed, -are generally Israelites. - -It must be borne in mind that, in describing Petticoat-lane, I have -described it as seen on a fine summer’s day, when the business is at -its height. Until an hour or two after midday the district is quiet, -and on very rainy days its aspect is sufficiently lamentable, for then -it appears actually deserted. Perhaps on a winter’s Saturday night--as -the Jewish Sabbath terminates at sunset--the scene may be the most -striking of all. The flaring lights from uncovered gas, from fat-fed -lamps, from the paper-shaded candles, and the many ways in which the -poorer street-folk throw some illumination over their goods, produce a -multiplicity of lights and shadows, which, thrown and blended over the -old clothes hanging up along the line of street, cause them to assume -mysterious forms, and if the wind be high make them, as they are blown -to and fro, look more mysterious still. - -On one of my visits to Petticoat-lane I saw two foreign Jews--from -Smyrna I was informed. An old street-seller told me he believed it -was their first visit to the district. But, new as the scene might be -to them, they looked on impassively at all they saw. They wore the -handsome and peculiar dresses of their country. A glance was cast -after them by the Petticoat-lane people, but that was all. In the -Strand they would have attracted considerable attention; not a few -heads would have been turned back to gaze after them; but it seems -that only to those who may possibly be customers is any notice paid in -Petticoat-lane. - - -ROSEMARY-LANE. - -Rosemary-lane, which has in vain been re-christened Royal Mint-street, -is from half to three-quarters of a mile long--that is, if we include -only the portion which runs from the junction of Leman and Dock streets -(near the London Docks) to Sparrow-corner, where it abuts on the -Minories. Beyond the Leman-street termination of Rosemary-lane, and -stretching on into Shadwell, are many streets of a similar character as -regards the street and shop supply of articles to the poor; but as the -old clothes trade is only occasionally carried on there, I shall here -deal with Rosemary-lane proper. - -[Illustration: A VIEW IN ROSEMARY-LANE.] - -This lane partakes of some of the characteristics of Petticoat-lane, -but without its so strongly marked peculiarities. Rosemary-lane is -wider and airier, the houses on each side are loftier (in several -parts), and there is an approach to a gin palace, a thing unknown in -Petticoat-lane: there is no room for such a structure there. - -Rosemary-lane, like the quarter I have last described, has its -off-streets, into which the traffic stretches. Some of these -off-streets are narrower, dirtier, poorer in all respects than -Rosemary-lane itself, which indeed can hardly be stigmatized as very -dirty. These are Glasshouse-street, Russell-court, Hairbrine-court, -Parson’s-court, Blue Anchor-yard (one of the poorest places and with -a half-built look), Darby-street, Cartwright-street, Peter’s-court, -Princes-street, Queen-street, and beyond these and in the direction -of the Minories, Rosemary-lane becomes Sharp’s-buildings and -Sparrow-corner. There are other small non-thoroughfare courts, -sometimes called blind alleys, to which no name is attached, but which -are very well known to the neighbourhood as Union-court, &c.; but as -these are not scenes of street-traffic, although they may be the abodes -of street-traffickers, they require no especial notice. - -The dwellers in the neighbourhood or the off-streets of Rosemary-lane, -differ from those of Petticoat-lane by the proximity of the former -place to the Thames. The lodgings here are occupied by dredgers, -ballast-heavers, coal-whippers, watermen, lumpers, and others whose -trade is connected with the river, as well as the slop-workers and -sweaters working for the Minories. The poverty of these workers compels -them to lodge wherever the rent of the rooms is the lowest. As a -few of the wives of the ballast-heavers, &c., are street-sellers in -or about Rosemary-lane, the locality is often sought by them. About -Petticoat-lane the off-streets are mostly occupied by the old clothes -merchants. - -In Rosemary-lane is a greater _street_-trade, as regards things placed -on the ground for retail sale, &c., than in Petticoat-lane; for though -the traffic in the last-mentioned lane is by far the greatest, it is -more connected with the shops, and fewer traders whose dealings are -strictly those of the street alone resort to it. Rosemary-lane, too, -is more Irish. There are some cheap lodging-houses in the courts, -&c., to which the poor Irish flock; and as they are very frequently -street-sellers, on busy days the quarter abounds with them. At every -step you hear the Erse tongue, and meet with the Irish physiognomy; -Jews and Jewesses are also seen in the street, and they abound in the -shops. The street-traffic does not begin until about one o’clock, -except as regards the vegetable, fish, and oyster-stalls, &c.; but the -chief business of this lane, which is as inappropriately as that of -Petticoat is suitably named, is in the vending of the articles which -have often been thrown aside as refuse, but from which numbers in -London wring an existence. - -One side of the lane is covered with old boots and shoes; old clothes, -both men’s, women’s, and children’s; new lace for edgings, and a -variety of cheap prints and muslins (also new); hats and bonnets; pots, -and often of the commonest kinds; tins; old knives and forks, old -scissors, and old metal articles generally; here and there is a stall -of cheap bread or American cheese, or what is announced as American; -old glass; different descriptions of second-hand furniture of the -smaller size, such as children’s chairs, bellows, &c. Mixed with these, -but only very scantily, are a few bright-looking swag-barrows, with -china ornaments, toys, &c. Some of the wares are spread on the ground -on wrappers, or pieces of matting or carpet; and some, as the pots, are -occasionally placed on straw. The cotton prints are often heaped on the -ground; where are also ranges or heaps of boots and shoes, and piles of -old clothes, or hats, or umbrellas. Other traders place their goods on -stalls or barrows, or over an old chair or clothes-horse. And amidst -all this motley display the buyers and sellers smoke, and shout, and -doze, and bargain, and wrangle, and eat and drink tea and coffee, and -sometimes beer. Altogether Rosemary-lane is more of a _street_ market -than is Petticoat-lane. - -This district, like the one I have first described, is infested with -young thieves and vagrants from the neighbouring lodging-houses, -who may be seen running about, often bare-footed, bare-necked, and -shirtless, but “larking” one with another, and what may be best -understood as “full of fun.” In what way these lads dispose of their -plunder, and how their plunder is in any way connected with the -trade of these parts, I shall show in my account of the Thieves. One -pickpocket told me that there was no person whom he delighted so much -to steal from as any Petticoat-laner with whom he had professional -dealings! - -In Rosemary-lane there is a busy Sunday morning trade; there is a -street-trade, also, on the Saturday afternoons, but the greater part -of the shops are then closed, and the Jews do not participate in the -commerce until after sunset. - -The two marts I have thus fully described differ from all other -street-markets, for in these two second-hand garments, and second-hand -merchandize generally (although but in a small proportion), are -the grand staple of the traffic. At the other street-markets, the -second-hand commerce is the exception. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF MEN’S SECOND-HAND CLOTHES. - -In the following accounts of street-selling, I shall not mix up any -account of the retailers’ modes of buying, collecting, repairing, or -“restoring” the second-hand garments, otherwise than incidentally. I -have already sketched the systems pursued, and more will have to be -said concerning them under the head of STREET-BUYERS. Neither have -I thought it necessary, in the further accounts I have collected, -to confine myself to the trade carried on in the Petticoat and -Rosemary-lane districts. The greater portion relates to those places, -but my aim, of course, is to give an account which will show the -character of the second-hand trade of the metropolis generally. - -“People should remember,” said an intelligent shoemaker (not a -street-seller) with whom I had some conversation about cobbling for -the streets, “that such places as Rosemary-lane have their uses this -way. But for them a very poor industrious widow, say, with only 2_d._ -or 3_d._ to spare, couldn’t get a pair of shoes for her child; whereas -now, for 2_d._ or 3_d._, she can get them there, of some sort or other. -There’s a sort of decency, too, in wearing shoes. And what’s more, -sir--for I’ve bought old coats and other clothes in Rosemary-lane, both -for my own wear and my family’s, and know something about it--how is a -poor creature to get such a decency as a petticoat for a poor little -girl, if she’d only a penny, unless there were such places?” - -In the present state of the very poor, it may be that such places as -those described have, on the principle that half a loaf is better than -no bread, their benefits. But whether the state of things in which an -industrious widow, or a host of industrious persons, _can_ spare but -1_d._ for a child’s clothing (and nothing, perhaps, for their own), is -one to be lauded in a Christian country, is another question, fraught -with grave political and social considerations. - -The man from whom I received the following account of the sale of men’s -wearing apparel was apparently between 30 and 40 years of age. His face -presented something of the Jewish physiognomy, but he was a Christian, -he said, though he never had time to go to church or chapel, and Sunday -was often a busy day; besides, a man must live as others in his way -lived. He had been connected with the sale of old clothes all his -life, as were his parents, so that his existence had been monotonous -enough, for he had never been more than five miles, he thought, from -Whitechapel, the neighbourhood where he was born. In winter he liked a -concert, and was fond of a hand at cribbage, but he didn’t care for the -play. His goods he sometimes spread on the ground--at other times he -had a stall or a “horse” (clothes-horse). - -“My customers,” he said, “are nearly all working people, some of them -very poor, and with large families. For anything I know, some of them -works with their heads, though, as well, and not their hands, for I’ve -noticed that their hands is smallish and seems smoothish, and suits a -tight sleeve very well. I don’t know what they are. How should I? I -asks no questions, and they’ll tell me no fibs. To such as them I sell -coats mostly; indeed, very little else. They’re often very perticler -about the fit, and often asks, ‘Does it look as if it was made for -me?’ Sometimes they is seedy, very seedy, and comes to such as me, -most likely, ’cause we’re cheaper than the shops. They don’t like to -try things on in the street, and I can always take a decent customer, -or one as looks sich, in there, to try on (pointing to a coffee-shop). -Bob-tailed coats (dress-coats) is far the cheapest. I’ve sold them -as low as 1_s._, but not often; at 2_s._ and 3_s._ often enough; and -sometimes as high as 5_s._ Perhaps a 3_s._ or 3_s._ 6_d._ coat goes off -as well as any, but bob-tailed coats is little asked for. Now, I’ve -never had a frock (surtout or frock coat), as well as I can remember, -under 2_s._ 6_d._, except one that stuck by me a long time, and I sold -it at last for 20_d._, which was 2_d._ less than what it cost. It was -only a poor thing, in course, but it had such a rum-coloured velvet -collar, that was faded, and had had a bit let in, and was all sorts -of shades, and that hindered its selling, I fancy. Velvet collars -isn’t worn now, and I’m glad of it. Old coats goes better with their -own collars (collars of the same cloth as the body of the coat). For -frocks, I’ve got as much as 7_s._ 6_d._, and cheap at it too, sir. -Well, perhaps (laughing) at an odd time they wasn’t so very cheap, but -that’s all in the way of trade. About 4_s._ 6_d._ or 5_s._ is perhaps -the ticket that a frock goes off best at. It’s working people that buys -frocks most, and often working people’s wives or mothers--that is as -far as I knows. They’re capital judges as to what’ll fit their men; -and if they satisfy me it’s all right, I’m always ready to undertake -to change it for another if it don’t fit. O, no, I never agree to -give back the money if it don’t fit; in course not; that wouldn’t be -business. - -“No, sir, we’re very little troubled with people larking. I have had -young fellows come, half drunk, even though it might be Sunday morning, -and say, ‘Guv’ner, what’ll you give me to wear that coat for you, and -show off your cut?’ We don’t stand much of their nonsense. I don’t -know what such coves are. Perhaps ’torneys’ journeymen, or pot-boys -out for a Sunday morning’s spree.” [This was said with a bitterness -that surprised me in so quiet-speaking a man.] “In greatcoats and -cloaks I don’t do much, but it’s a very good sale when you can offer -them well worth the money. I’ve got 10_s._ often for a greatcoat, and -higher and lower, oftener lower in course; but 10_s._ is about the -card for a good thing. It’s the like with cloaks. Paletots don’t sell -well. They’re mostly thinner and poorer cloth to begin with at the -tailors--them new-fashioned named things often is so--and so they show -when hard worn. Why no, sir, they can be done up, certainly; anything -can be touched up; but they get thin, you see, and there’s nothing to -work upon as there is in a good cloth greatcoat. You’ll excuse me, sir, -but I saw you a little bit since take one of them there square books -that a man gives away to people coming this way, as if to knock up the -second-hand business, but he won’t, though; I’ll tell you how them -slops, if they come more into wear, is sure to injure us. If people -gets to wear them low-figured things, more and more, as they possibly -may, why where’s the second-hand things to come from? I’m not a tailor, -but I understands about clothes, and I believe that no person ever saw -anything green in my eye. And if you find a slop thing marked a guinea, -I don’t care what it is, but I’ll undertake that you shall get one -that’ll wear longer, and look better to the very last, second-hand, at -less than half the money, plenty less. It was good stuff and good make -at first, and hasn’t been abused, and that’s the reason why it always -bangs a slop, because it was good to begin with. - -“Trousers sells pretty well. I sell them, cloth ones, from 6_d._ up -to 4_s._ They’re cheaper if they’re not cloth, but very seldom less -or so low as 6_d._ Yes, the cloth ones at that is poor worn things, -and little things too. They’re not men’s, they’re youth’s or boy’s -size. Good strong cords goes off very well at 1_s._ and 1_s._ 6_d._, -or higher. Irish bricklayers buys them, and paviours, and such like. -It’s easy to fit a man with a pair of second-hand trousers. I can tell -by his build what’ll fit him directly. Tweeds and summer trousers is -middling, but washing things sells worse and worse. It’s an expense, -and expenses don’t suit my customers--not a bit of it. - -“Waistcoats isn’t in no great call. They’re often worn very hard under -any sort of a tidy coat, for a tidy coat can be buttoned over anything -that’s ‘dicky,’ and so, you see, many of ’em’s half-way to the rag-shop -before they comes to us. Well, I’m sure I can hardly say what sort of -people goes most for weskets” [so he pronounced it]. “If they’re light, -or there’s anything ‘fancy’ about them, I thinks it’s mothers as makes -them up for their sons. What with the strings at the back and such -like, it aint hard to make a wesket fit. They’re poor people as buys -certainly, but genteel people buys such things as fancy weskets, or -how do you suppose they’d all be got through? O, there’s ladies comes -here for a bargain, I can tell you, and gentlemen, too; and many on ’em -would go through fire for one. Second-hand satins (waistcoats) is good -still, but they don’t fetch the tin they did. I’ve sold weskets from -1-1/2_d._ to 4_s._ Well, it’s hard to say what the three-ha’pennies is -made of; all sorts of things; we calls them ‘serge.’ Three-pence is a -common price for a little wesket. There’s no under-weskets wanted now, -and there’s no rolling collars. It was better for us when there was, as -there was more stuff to work on. The double-breasted gets scarcer, too. -Fashions grows to be cheap things now-a-days. - -“I can’t tell you anything about knee-breeches; they don’t come into my -trade, and they’re never asked for. Gaiters is no go either. Liveries -isn’t a street-trade. I fancy all those sort of things is sent -abroad. I don’t know where. Perhaps where people doesn’t know they was -liveries. I wouldn’t wear an old livery coat, if it was the Queen’s, -for five bob. I don’t think wearing one would hinder trade. You may -have seen a black man in a fine livery giving away bills of a slop in -Holborn. If we was to have such a thing we’d be pulled up (apprehended) -for obstructing. - -“I sells a few children’s (children’s clothes), but only a few, and -I can’t say so much about them. They sells pretty freely though, and -to very decent people. If they’re good, then they’re ready for use. -If they ain’t anything very prime, they can be mended--that is, if -they was good to begin with. But children’s woollen togs is mostly -hardworn and fit only for the ‘devil’ (the machine which tears them up -for shoddy). I’ve sold suits, which was tunics and trousers, but no -weskets, for 3_s._ 6_d._ when they was tidy. That’s a common price. - -“Well, really, I hardly know how much I make every week; far too -little, I know that. I could no more tell you how many coats I sell in -a year, or how many weskets, than I could tell you how many days was -fine, and how many wasn’t. I can carry all in my head, and so I keeps -no accounts. I know exactly what every single thing I sell has cost me. -In course I must know _that_. I dare say I may clear about 12_s._ bad -weeks, and 18_s._ good weeks, more and less both ways, and there’s more -bad weeks than good. I have cleared 50_s._ in a good week; and when -it’s been nothing but fog and wet, I haven’t cleared 3_s._ 6_d._ But -mine’s a better business than common, perhaps. I can’t say what others -clears; more and less than I does.” - -The profit in this trade, from the best information I could obtain, -runs about 50 per cent. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SECOND-HAND BOOTS AND SHOES. - -The man who gave me the following account of this trade had been -familiar with it a good many years, fifteen he believed, but was by no -means certain. I saw at his lodgings a man who was finishing his day’s -work there, in cobbling and “translating.” He was not in the employ of -my informant, who had two rooms, or rather a floor; he slept in one and -let the other to the “translator” who was a relation, he told me, and -they went on very well together, as he (the street-seller) liked to sit -and smoke his pipe of a night in the translator’s room, which was much -larger than his own; and sometimes, when times were “pretty bobbish,” -they clubbed together for a good supper of tripe, or had a “prime hot -Jemmy a-piece,” with a drop of good beer. A “Jemmy” is a baked sheep’s -head. The room was tidy enough, but had the strong odour of shoemaker’s -wax proper to the craft. - -“I’ve been in a good many street-trades, and others too,” said my -informant, “since you want to know, and for a good purpose as well as -I can understand it. I was a ’prentice to a shoemaker in Northampton, -with a lot more; why, it was more like a factory than anything else, -was my master’s, and the place we worked in was so confined and hot, -and we couldn’t open the window, that it was worse than the East -Ingees. O, I know what they is. I’ve been there. I was so badly treated -I ran away from my master, for I had only a father, and he cared -nothing about me, and so I broke my indentures. After a good bit of -knocking about and living as I could, and starving when I couldn’t, but -I never thought of going back to Northampton, I ’listed and was a good -bit in the Ingees. Well, never mind, sir, how long, or what happened me -when I was soldier. I did nothing wrong, and that ain’t what you was -asking about, and I’d rather say no more about it.” - -I have met with other street-folk, who had been soldiers, and who were -fond of talking of their “service,” often enough to grumble about it, -so that I am almost tempted to think my informant had deserted, but I -questioned him no further on the subject. - -“I had my ups and downs again, sir,” he continued, “when I got back -to England. God bless us all; I’m very fond of children, but I never -married, and when I’ve been at the worst, I’ve been really glad that I -hadn’t no one depending on me. It’s bad enough for oneself, but when -there’s others as you must love, what must it be then? I’ve smoked a -pipe when I was troubled in mind, and couldn’t get a meal, but could -only get a pipe, and baccy’s shamefully dear here; but if I’d had a -young daughter now, what good would it have been my smoking a pipe to -comfort her? I’ve seen that in people that’s akin to me, and has been -badly off, and with families. I had a friend or two in London, and -I applied to them when I couldn’t hold out no longer, and they gave -me a bit of a rise, so I began as a costermonger. I was living among -them as was in that line. Well, now, it’s a pleasant life in fine -weather. Why it was only this morning Joe (the translator) was reading -the paper at breakfast time;--he gets it from the public-house, and -if it’s two, three, or four days old, it’s just as good for us;--and -there was 10,000 pines had been received from the West Ingees. There’s -a chance for the costermongers, says I, if they don’t go off too dear. -Then cherries is in; and I was beginning to wish I was a costermonger -myself still, but my present trade is _surer_. My boots and shoes’ll -keep. They don’t spoil in hot weather. Cherries and strawberries does, -and if it comes thunder and wet, you can’t sell. I worked a barrow, and -sometimes had only a bit of a pitch, for a matter of two year, perhaps, -and then I got into this trade, as I understood it. I sells all sorts, -but not so much women’s or children’s. - -“Why, as to prices, there’s two sorts of prices. You may sell as you -buy, or you may sell new soled and heeled. They’re never new welted -for the streets. It wouldn’t pay a bit. Not long since I had a pair of -very good Oxonians that had been new welted, and the very first day I -had them on sale--it was a dull drizzly day--a lad tried to prig them. -I just caught him in time. Did I give him in charge? I hope I’ve more -sense. I’ve been robbed before, and I’ve caught young rips in the act. -If it’s boots or shoes they’ve tried to prig, I gives them a stirruping -with whichever it is, and a kick, and lets them go. - -“Men’s shoes, the regular sort, isn’t a very good sale. I get from -10_d._ to 4_s._ 6_d._ a pair; but the high priced ’uns is either soled -and heeled, and mudded well, or they’ve been real well-made things, and -not much worn. I’ve had gentlemen’s shooting-shoes sometimes, that’s -flung aside for the least thing. The plain shoes don’t go off at all. -I think people likes something to cover their stocking-feet more. For -cloth button-boots I get from 1_s._--that’s the lowest I ever sold -at--to 2_s._ 6_d._ The price is according to what condition the things -is in, and what’s been done to them, but there’s no regular price. -They’re not such good sale as they would be, because they soon show -worn. The black ‘legs’ gets to look very seamy, and it’s a sort of boot -that won’t stand much knocking about, if it ain’t right well made at -first. I’ve been selling Oxonian button-overs (‘Oxonian’ shoes, which -cover the instep, and are closed by being buttoned instead of being -stringed through four or five holes) at 3_s._ 6_d._ and 4_s._ but they -was really good, and soled and heeled; others I sell at 1_s._ 6_d._ -to 2_s._ 3_d._ or 2_s._ 6_d._ Bluchers is from 1_s._ to 3_s._ 6_d._ -Wellingtons from 1_s._--yes, indeed, I’ve had them as low as 1_s._, and -perhaps they weren’t very cheap at that, them very low-priced things -never is, neither new nor old--from 1_s._ to 5_s._; but Wellingtons is -more for the shops than the street. I do a little in children’s boots -and shoes. I sell them from 3_d._ to 15_d._ Yes, you can buy lower than -3_d._, but I’m not in that way. They sell quite as quick, or quicker, -than anything. I’ve sold children’s boots to poor women that wanted -shoeing far worse than the child; aye, many a time, sir. Top boots -(they’re called ‘Jockeys’ in the trade) isn’t sold in the streets. -I’ve never had any, and I don’t see them with others in my line. O no, -there’s no such thing as Hessians or back-straps (a top-boot without -the light-coloured top) in my trade now. Yes, I always have a seat -handy where anybody can try on anything in the street; no, sir, no -boot-hooks nor shoe-horn; shoe-horns is rather going out, I think. If -what we sell in the streets won’t go on without them they won’t be sold -at all. A good many will buy if the thing’s only big enough--they can’t -bear pinching, and don’t much care for a fine fit. - -“Well, I suppose I take from 30_s._ to 40_s._ a week, 14_s._ is about -my profit--that’s as to the year through. - -“I sell little for women’s wear, though I do sell their boots and shoes -sometimes.” - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF OLD HATS. - -The two street-sellers of old coats, waistcoats, and trousers, and of -boots and shoes, whose statements precede this account, confined their -trade, generally, to the second-hand merchandize I have mentioned as -more especially constituting their stock. But this arrangement does -not wholly prevail. There are many street-traders “in second-hand,” -perhaps two-thirds of the whole number, who sell indiscriminately -anything which they can buy, or what they hope to turn out an -advantage; but even they prefer to deal more in one particular kind of -merchandize than another, and this is most of all the case as concerns -the street-sale of old boots and shoes. Hats, however, are among the -second-hand wares which the street-seller rarely vends unconnected -with other stock. I was told that this might be owing to the hats sold -in the streets being usually suitable only for one class, grown men; -while clothes and boots and shoes are for boys as well as men. Caps may -supersede the use of hats, but nothing can supersede the use of boots -or shoes, which form the _steadiest_ second-hand street-trade of any. - -There are, however, occasions, when a street-seller exerts himself to -become possessed of a cheap stock of hats, by the well-known process -of “taking a quantity,” and sells them without, or with but a small -admixture of other goods. One man who had been lately so occupied, gave -me the following account. He was of Irish parentage, but there was -little distinctive in his accent:-- - -“Hats,” he said, “are about the awkwardest things of any for the -streets. Do as you will, they require a deal of room, so that what -you’ll mostly see isn’t hats quite ready to put on your head and walk -away in, but to be made ready. I’ve sold hats that way though, I mean -ready to wear, and my father before me has sold hundreds--yes, I’ve -been in the trade all my life--and it’s the best way for a profit. You -get, perhaps, the old hat in, or you buy it at 1_d._ or 2_d._ as may -be, and so you kill two birds. But there’s very little of that trade -except on Saturday nights or Sunday mornings. People wants a decent -tile for Sundays and don’t care for work-days. I never hawks hats, -but I sells to those as do. My customers for hats are mechanics, with -an odd clerk or two. Yes, indeed, I sell hats now and then to my own -countrymen to go decent to mass in. I go to mass myself as often as -I can; sometimes I go to vespers. No, the Irish in this trade ain’t -so good in going to chapel as they ought, but it takes such a time; -not just while you’re there, but in shaving, and washing, and getting -ready. My wife helps me in selling second-hand things; she’s a better -hand than I am. I have two boys; they’re young yet, and I don’t know -what we shall bring them up to; perhaps to our own business; and -children seems to fall naturally into it, I think, when their fathers -and mothers is in it. They’re at school now. - -“I have sold hats from 6_d._ to 3_s._ 6_d._, but very seldom 3_s._ -6_d._ The 3_s._ 6_d._ ones would wear out two new gossamers, I know. -It’s seldom you see beaver hats in the street-trade now, they’re nearly -all silk. They say the beavers have got scarce in foreign parts where -they’re caught. I haven’t an idea how many hats I sell in a year, -for I don’t stick to hats, you see, sir, but I like doing in them as -well or better than in anything else. Sometimes I’ve sold nothing but -hats for weeks together, wholesale and retail that is. It’s only the -regular-shaped hats I can sell. If you offer swells’ hats, people’ll -say: ‘I may as well buy a new “wide-awake” at once.’ I have made -20_s._ in a week on hats alone. But if I confined my trade to them -now, I don’t suppose I could clear 5_s._ one week with another the -year through. It’s only the hawkers that can sell them in wet weather. -I wish we could sell under cover in all the places where there’s what -you call ‘street-markets.’ It would save poor people that lives by the -street many a twopence by their things not being spoiled, and by people -not heeding the rain to go and examine them.” - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF WOMEN’S SECOND-HAND APPAREL. - -This trade, as regards the sale to retail customers in the streets, -is almost entirely in the hands of women, seven-eighths of whom -are the wives, relatives, or connections of the men who deal in -second-hand male apparel. But gowns, cloaks, bonnets, &c., are -collected more largely by men than by women, and the wholesale old -clothes’ merchants of course deal in every sort of habiliment. -Petticoat and Rosemary-lanes are the grand marts for this street-sale, -but in Whitecross-street, Leather-lane, Old-street (St. Luke’s), and -some similar Saturday-night markets in poor neighbourhoods, women’s -second-hand apparel is sometimes offered. “It is often of little use -offering it in the latter places,” I was told by a lace-seller who -had sometimes tried to do business in second-hand shawls and cloaks, -“because you are sure to hear, ‘Oh, we can get them far cheaper in -Petticoat-lane, when we like to go as far.’” - -The different portions of female dress are shown and sold in the -street, as I have described in my account of Rosemary-lane, and of the -trading of the men selling second-hand male apparel. There is not so -much attention paid to “set off” gowns that there is to set off coats. -“If the gown be a washing gown,” I was informed, “it is sure to have -to be washed before it can be worn, and so it is no use bothering with -it, and paying for soap and labour beforehand. If it be woollen, or -some stuff that wont wash, it has almost always to be altered before it -is worn, and so it is no use doing it up perhaps to be altered again.” -Silk goods, however, are carefully enough re-glossed and repaired. Most -of the others “just take their chance.” - -A good-looking Irishwoman gave me the following account. She had come -to London and had been a few years in service, where she saved a little -money, when she married a cousin, but in what degree of cousinship she -did not know. She then took part in his avocation as a crockman, and -subsequently as a street-seller of second-hand clothes. - -“Why, yis, thin and indeed, sir,” she said, “I did feel rather quare -in my new trade, going about from house to house, the Commercial-road -and Stepney way, but I soon got not to mind, and indeed thin it don’t -matter much what way one gets one’s living, so long as it’s honest. O, -yis, I know there’s goings on in old clothes that isn’t always honest, -but my husband’s a fair dealing man. I felt quarer, too, whin I had -to sell in the strate, but I soon got used to that, too; and it’s not -such slavish work as the ‘crocks.’ But we sometimes ‘crocks’ in the -mornings a little still, and sells in the evenings. No, not what we’ve -collected--for that goes to Mr. Isaac’s market almost always--but stock -that’s ready for wear. - -“For _Cotton Gowns_ I’ve got from 9_d._ to 2_s._ 3_d._ O, yis, and -indeed thin, there’s gowns chaper, 4_d._ and 6_d._, but there’s nothing -to be got out of them, and we don’t sell them. From 9_d._ to 18_d._ -is the commonest price. It’s poor people as buys: O, yis, and indeed -thin it is, thim as has families, and must look about thim. Many’s the -poor woman that’s said to me, ‘Well, and indeed, marm, it isn’t my -inclination to chapen anybody as I thinks is fair, and I was brought up -quite different to buying old gowns, I assure you’--yis, that’s often -said; no, sir, it isn’t my countrywomen that says it (laughing), it’s -yours. ‘I wouldn’t think,’ says she, ‘of offering you 1_d._ less than -1_s._, marm, for that frock for my daughter, marm, but it’s such a hard -fight to live.’ Och, thin, and it is indeed; but to hear some of them -talk you’d think they was born ladies. _Stuff-gowns_ is from 2_d._ to -8_d._ higher than cotton, but they don’t sell near so well. I hardly -know why. Cotton washes, and if a dacent woman gets a chape second-hand -cotton, she washes and does it up, and it seems to come to her fresh -and new. That can’t be done with stuff. _Silk_ is very little in my -way, but silk gowns sell from 3_s._ 6_d._ to 4_s._ Of satin and velvet -gowns I can tell you nothing; they’re never in the streets. - -“_Second-hand Bonnets_ is a very poor sale--very. The milliners, poor -craitchers, as makes them up and sells them in the strate, has the -greatest sale, but they makes very little by it. Their bonnets looks -new, you see, sir, and close and nice for poor women. I’ve sold bonnets -from 6_d._ to 3_s._ 6_d._, and some of them cost 3_l._ But whin they -git faded and out of fashion, they’re of no vally at all at all. -_Shawls_ is a very little sale; very little. I’ve got from 6_d._ to -2_s._ 6_d._ for them. Plaid shawls is as good as any, at about 1_s._ -6_d._; but they’re a winter trade. _Cloaks_ (they are what in the -dress-making trade are called mantles) isn’t much of a call. I’ve had -them from 1_s._ 6_d._ as high as 7_s._--but only once 7_s._, and it was -good silk. They’re not a sort of wear that suits poor people. Will and -indeed thin, I hardly know who buys them second-hand. Perhaps bad women -buys a few, or they get men to buy them for them. I think your misses -don’t buy much second-hand thin in gineral; the less the better, the -likes of them; yis, indeed, sir. _Stays_ I don’t sell, but you can buy -them from 3_d._ to 15_d._; it’s a small trade. And I don’t sell _Under -Clothing_, or only now and thin, except _Children’s_. Dear me, I can -hardly tell the prices I get for the poor little things’ dress--I’ve a -little girl myself--the prices vary so, just as the frocks and other -things is made for big children or little, and what they’re made of. -I’ve sold frocks--they sell best on Saturday and Monday nights--from -2_d._ to 1_s._ 6_d._ Little petticoats is 1_d._ to 3_d._; shifts is -1_d._ and 2_d._, and so is little shirts. If they wasn’t so low there -would be more rags than there is, and sure there’s plinty. - -“Will, thin and indeed, I don’t know what we make in a week, and if I -did, why should I tell? O, yes, sir, I know from the gentleman that -sent you to me that you’re asking for a good purpose: yis, indeed, -thin; but I ralely can’t say. We do pritty well, God’s name be praised! -Perhaps a good second-hand gown trade and such like is worth from -10_s._ to 15_s._ a week, and nearer 15_s._ than 10_s._ ivery week; but -that’s a _good_ second-hand trade you understand, sir. A poor trade’s -about half that, perhaps. But thin my husband sells men’s wear as well. -Yis, indeed, and I find time to go to mass, and I soon got my husband -to go after we was married, for he’d got to neglect it, God be praised; -and what’s all you can get here compared to making your sowl” [saving -your soul--_making_ your soul is not an uncommon phrase among some of -the Irish people]. “Och, and indeed thin, sir, if you’ve met Father -----, you’ve met a good gintleman.” - - * * * * * - -Of the street-selling of _women and children’s second-hand boots and -shoes_, I need say but little, as they form part of the stock of the -men’s ware, and are sold by the same men, not unfrequently assisted by -their wives. The best sale is for black _cloth boots_, whether laced -or buttoned, but the prices run only from 5_d._ to 1_s._ 9_d._ If the -“legs” of a second-hand pair be good, they are worth 5_d._, no matter -what the leather portion, including the soles, may be. Coloured boots -sell very indifferently. Children’s boots and shoes are sold from 2_d._ -to 15_d._ - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SECOND-HAND FURS. - -Of furs the street-sale is prompt enough, or used to be prompt; but -not so much so, I am told, last season, as formerly. A fur tippet -is readily bought for the sake of warmth by women who thrive pretty -well in the keeping of coffee-stalls, or any calling which requires -attendance during the night, or in the chilliness of early morning, -even in summer, by those who go out at early hours to their work. By -such persons a big tippet is readily bought when the money is not an -impediment, and to many it is a strong recommendation, that when new, -the tippet, most likely, was worn by a real lady. So I was assured by a -person familiar with the trade. - -One female street-seller had three stalls or stands in the New Cut -(when it was a great street market), about two years back, and all for -the sale of second-hand furs. She has now a small shop in second-hand -wearing apparel (women’s) generally, furs being of course included. -The business carried on in the street (almost always “the Cut”) by -the fur-seller in question, who was both industrious and respectable, -was very considerable. On a Monday she has not unfrequently taken -3_l._, one-half of which, indeed more than half, was profit, for the -street-seller bought in the summer, when furs “were no money at all,” -and sold in the winter, when they “were really tin, and no mistake.” -Before the season began, she sometimes had a small room nearly full of -furs. - -This trade is less confined to Petticoat-lane and the old clothes -district, as regards the supply to retail customers, than is anything -else connected with dress. But the fur trade is now small. The money, -prudence, and forethought necessary to enable a fur-seller to buy in -the summer, for ample profit in the winter, as regards street-trade, is -not in accordance with the habits of the general run of street-sellers, -who think but of the present, or hardly think even of that. - -The old furs, like all the other old articles of wearing apparel, -whether garbs of what may be accounted primary necessaries, as shoes, -or mere comforts or adornments, as boas or muffs, are bought in the -first instance at the Old Clothes Exchange, and so find their way to -the street-sellers. The exceptions as to this first transaction in the -trade I now speak of, are very trifling, and, perhaps, more trifling -than in other articles, for one great supply of furs, I am informed, is -from their being swopped in the spring and summer for flowers with the -“root-sellers,” who carry them to the Exchange. - -Last winter there were sometimes as many as ten persons--three-fourths -of the number of second-hand fur sellers, which fluctuates, being -women--with fur-stands. They frequent the street-markets on the -Saturday and Monday nights, not confining themselves to any one market -in particular. The best sale is for _Fur Tippets_, and chiefly of the -darker colours. These are bought, one of the dealers informed me, -frequently by maid-servants, who could run of errands in them in the -dark, or wear them in wet weather. They are sold from 1_s._ 6_d._ -to 4_s._ 6_d._, about 2_s._ or 2_s._ 6_d._ being a common charge. -Children’s tippets “go off well,” from 6_d._ to 1_s._ 3_d._ _Boas_ -are not vended to half the extent of tippets, although they are -lower-priced, one of tolerably good gray squirrel being 1_s._ 6_d._ -The reason of the difference in the demand is that boas are as much -an ornament as a garment, while the tippet answers the purpose of a -shawl. _Muffs_ are not at all vendible in the streets, the few that are -disposed of being principally for children. As muffs are not generally -used by maid-servants, or by the families of the working classes, the -absence of demand in the second-hand traffic is easily accounted for. -They are bought sometimes to cut up for other purposes. _Victorines_ -are disposed of readily enough at from 1_s._ to 2_s._ 6_d._, as are -_Cuffs_, from 4_d._ to 8_d._ - -One man, who told me that a few years since he and his wife used to -sell second-hand furs in the street, was of opinion that his best -customers were women of the town, who were tolerably well-dressed, -and who required some further protection from the night air. He could -readily sell any “tidy” article, tippet, boa, or muff, to those -females, if they had from 2_s._ 6_d._ to 5_s._ at command. He had so -sold them in Clare-market, in Tottenham-court-road, and the Brill. - - -OF THE SECOND-HAND SELLERS OF SMITHFIELD-MARKET. - -No small part of the second-hand trade of London is carried on in -the market-place of Smithfield, on the Friday afternoons. Here is -a mart for almost everything which is required for the harnessing -of beasts of draught, or is required for any means of propulsion or -locomotion, either as a whole vehicle, or in its several parts, needed -by street-traders: also of the machines, vessels, scales, weights, -measures, baskets, stands, and all other appliances of street-trade. - -The scene is animated and peculiar. Apart from the horse, ass, and -goat trade (of which I shall give an account hereafter), it is a grand -Second-hand Costermongers’ Exchange. The trade is not confined to that -large body, though they are the principal merchants, but includes -greengrocers (often the costermonger in a shop), carmen, and others. It -is, moreover, a favourite resort of the purveyors of street-provisions -and beverages, of street dainties and luxuries. Of this class some of -the most prosperous are those who are “well known in Smithfield.” - -The space devoted to this second-hand commerce and its accompaniments, -runs from St. Bartholomew’s Hospital towards Long-lane, but -isolated peripatetic traders are found in all parts of the space -not devoted to the exhibition of cattle or of horses. The crowd on -the day of my visit was considerable, but from several I heard the -not-always-very-veracious remarks of “Nothing doing” and “There’s -nobody at all here to-day.” The weather was sultry, and at every few -yards arose the cry from men and boys, “Ginger-beer, ha’penny a glass! -Ha’penny a glass,” or “Iced lemonade here! Iced raspberriade, as cold -as ice, ha’penny a glass, only a ha’penny!” A boy was elevated on a -board at the end of a splendid affair of this kind. It was a square -built vehicle, the top being about 7 feet by 4, and flat and surmounted -by the lemonade fountain; long, narrow, champagne glasses, holding a -raspberry coloured liquid, frothed up exceedingly, were ranged round, -and the beverage dispensed by a woman, the mother or employer of the -boy who was bawling. The sides of the machine, which stood on wheels, -were a bright, shiny blue, and on them sprawled the lion and unicorn in -gorgeous heraldry, yellow and gold, the artist being, according to a -prominent announcement, a “herald painter.” The apparatus was handsome, -but with that exaggeration of handsomeness which attracts the high -and low vulgar, who cannot distinguish between gaudiness and beauty. -The sale was brisk. The ginger-beer sold in the market was generally -dispensed from carts, and here I noticed, what occurs yearly in -street-commerce, an innovation on the established system of the trade. -Several sellers disposed of their ginger-beer in clear glass bottles, -somewhat larger and fuller-necked than those introduced by M. Soyer for -the sale of his “nectar,” and the liquid was drank out of the bottle -the moment the cork was undrawn, and so the necessity of a glass was -obviated. - -Near the herald-painter’s work, of which I have just spoken, stood -a very humble stall on which were loaves of bread, and round the -loaves were pieces of fried fish and slices of bread on plates, all -remarkably clean. “Oysters! Penny-a lot! Penny-a-lot, oysters!” was -the cry, the most frequently heard after that of ginger-beer, &c. -“Cherries! Twopence a-pound! Penny-a pound, cherries!” “Fruit-pies! -Try my fruit-pies!” The most famous dealer in all kinds of penny pies -is, however, not a pedestrian, but an equestrian hawker. He drives a -very smart, handsome pie-cart, sitting behind after the manner of the -Hansom cabmen, the lifting up of a lid below his knees displaying his -large stock of pies. His “drag” is whisked along rapidly by a brisk -chestnut poney, well-harnessed. The “whole set out,” I was informed, -poney included, cost 50_l._ when new. The proprietor is a keen Chartist -and teetotaller, and loses no opportunity to inculcate to his customers -the excellence of teetotalism, as well as of his pies. “Milk! ha’penny -a pint! ha’penny a pint, good milk!” is another cry. “Raspberry cream! -Iced raspberry-cream, ha’penny a glass!” This street-seller had a -capital trade. Street-ices, or rather ice-creams, were somewhat of a -failure last year, more especially in Greenwich-park, but this year -they seem likely to succeed. The Smithfield man sold them in very -small glasses, which he merely dipped into a vessel at his feet, and -so filled them with the cream. The consumers had to use their fingers -instead of a spoon, and no few seemed puzzled how to eat their ice, and -were grievously troubled by its getting among their teeth. I heard one -drover mutter that he felt “as if it had snowed in his belly!” Perhaps -at Smithfield-market on the Friday afternoons every street-trade in -eatables and drinkables has its representative, with the exception -of such things as sweet-stuff, curds and whey, &c., which are bought -chiefly by women and children. There were plum-dough, plum-cake, -pastry, pea-soup, whelks, periwinkles, ham-sandwiches, hot-eels, -oranges, &c., &c., &c. - -These things are the usual accompaniment of street-markets, and I -now come to the subject matter of the work, the sale of second-hand -articles. - -In this trade, since the introduction of a new arrangement two months -ago, there has been a great change. The vendors are not allowed to vend -barrows in the market, unless indeed with a poney or donkey harnessed -to them, or unless they are wheeled about by the owner, and they are -not allowed to spread their wares on the ground. When it is considered -of what those wares are composed, the awkwardness of the arrangement, -to the sales-people, may be understood. They consist of second-hand -collars, pads, saddles, bridles, bits, traces, every description of -worn harness, whole or in parts; the wheels, springs, axles, &c., of -barrows and carts; the beams, chains, and bodies of scales;--these, -perhaps, are the chief things which are sold separately, as parts of a -whole. The traders have now no other option but to carry them as they -best can, and offer them for sale. You saw men who really appear clad -in harness. Portions were fastened round their bodies, collars slung -on their arms, pads or small cart-saddles, with their shaft-gear, were -planted on their shoulders. Some carried merely a collar, or a harness -bridle, or even a bit or a pair of spurs. It was the same with the -springs, &c., of the barrows and small carts. They were carried under -men’s arms, or poised on their shoulders. The wheels and other things -which are too heavy for such modes of transport had to be placed in -some sort of vehicle, and in the vehicles might be seen trestles, &c. - -The complaints on the part of the second-hand sellers were neither few -nor mild: “If it had been a fat ox that had to be accommodated,” said -one, “before he was roasted for an alderman, they’d have found some way -to do it. But it don’t matter for poor men; though why we shouldn’t be -suited with a market as well as richer people is not the ticket, that’s -the fact.” - -These arrangements are already beginning to be infringed, and will be -more and more infringed, for such is always the case. The reason why -they were adopted was that the ground was so littered, that there was -not room for the donkey traffic and other requirements of the market. -The donkeys, when “shown,” under the old arrangement, often trod on -boards of old metal, &c., spread on the ground, and tripped, sometimes -to their injury, in consequence. Prior to the change, about twenty -persons used to come from Petticoat-lane, &c., and spread their old -metal or other stores on the ground. - -Of these there are now none. These Petticoat-laners, I was told by a -Smithfield frequenter, were men “who knew the price of old rags,”--a -new phrase expressive of their knowingness and keenness in trade. - -The statistics of this trade will be found under that head; the prices -are often much higher and much lower. I speak of the regular trades. -I have not included the sale of the superior butchers’ carts, &c., -as that is a traffic not in the hands of the regular second-hand -street-sellers. I have not thought it requisite to speak of the hawking -of whips, sticks, wash-leathers, brushes, curry-combs, &c., &c., of -which I have already treated distinctively. - -The accounts of the Capital and Income of the Street-Sellers of -Second-Hand Articles I am obliged to defer till a future occasion. - - - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF LIVE ANIMALS. - - -The live animals sold in the streets include beasts, birds, fish, and -reptiles, all sold in the streets of London. - -The class of men carrying on this business--for they are nearly all -men--is mixed; but the majority are of a half-sporting and half-vagrant -kind. One informant told me that the bird-catchers, for instance, when -young, as more than three-fourths of them are, were those who “liked -to be after a loose end,” first catching their birds, as a sort of -sporting business, and then sometimes selling them in the streets, but -far more frequently disposing of them in the bird-shops. “Some of these -boys,” a bird-seller in a large way of business said to me, “used to -become rat-catchers or dog-sellers, but there’s not such great openings -in the rat and dog line now. As far as I know, they’re the same lads, -or just the same sort of lads, anyhow, as you may see ‘helping,’ -holding horses, or things like that, at concerns like them small races -at Peckham or Chalk Farm, or helping any way at the foot-races at -Camberwell.” There is in this bird-catching a strong manifestation -of the vagrant spirit. To rise long before daybreak; to walk some -miles before daybreak; from the earliest dawn to wait in some field, -or common, or wood, watching the capture of the birds; then a long -trudge to town to dispose of the fluttering captives; all this is done -cheerfully, because there are about it the irresistible charms, to this -class, of excitement, variety, and free and open-air life. Nor do these -charms appear one whit weakened when, as happens often enough, all this -early morn business is carried on fasting. - -The old men in the bird-catching business are not to be ranked as -to their enjoyment of it with the juveniles, for these old men are -sometimes infirm, and can but, as one of them said to me some time ago, -“hobble about it.” But they have the same spirit, or the sparks of it. -And in this part of the trade is one of the curious characteristics of -a street-life, or rather of an open-air pursuit for the requirements -of a street-trade. A man, worn out for other purposes, incapable of -anything but a passive, or sort of lazy labour--such as lying in a -field and watching the action of his trap-cages--will yet in a summer’s -morning, decrepid as he may be, possess himself of a dozen or even a -score of the very freest and most aspiring of all our English small -birds, a creature of the air beyond other birds of his “order”--to use -an ornithological term--of sky-larks. - -The dog-sellers are of a sporting, trading, idling class. Their sport -is now the rat-hunt, or the ferret-match, or the dog-fight; as it was -with the predecessors of their stamp, the cock-fight; the bull, bear, -and badger bait; the shrove-tide cock-shy, or the duck hunt. Their -trading spirit is akin to that of the higher-class sporting fraternity, -the trading members of the turf. They love to sell and to bargain, -always with a quiet exultation at the time--a matter of loud tavern -boast afterwards, perhaps, as respects the street-folk--how they “do” -a customer, or “do” one another. “It’s not cheating,” was the remark -and apology of a very famous jockey of the old times, touching such -measures; “it’s not cheating, it’s outwitting.” Perhaps this expresses -the code of honesty of such traders; not to cheat, but to outwit or -over-reach. Mixed with such traders, however, are found a few quiet, -plodding, fair-dealing men, whom it is difficult to classify, otherwise -than that they are “in the line, just because they likes it.” The -idling of these street-sellers is a part of their business. To walk -by the hour up and down a street, and with no manual labour except to -clean their dogs’ kennels, and to carry them in their arms, is but an -idleness, although, as some of these men will tell you, “they work hard -at it.” - -Under the respective heads of dog and bird-sellers, I shall give more -detailed characteristics of the class, as well as of the varying -qualities and inducements of the buyers. - -The street-sellers of foreign birds, such as parrots, parroquets, and -cockatoos; of gold and silver fish; of goats, tortoises, rabbits, -leverets, hedgehogs; and the collectors of snails, worms, frogs, and -toads, are also a mixed body. Foreigners, Jews, seamen, countrymen, -costermongers, and boys form a part, and of them I shall give a -description under the several heads. The prominently-characterized -street-sellers are the traders in dogs and birds. - - -OF THE FORMER STREET-SELLERS, “FINDERS,” STEALERS, AND RESTORERS OF -DOGS. - -Before I describe the present condition of the street-trade in dogs, -which is principally in spaniels, or in the description well known as -lap-dogs, I will give an account of the former condition of the trade, -if trade it can properly be called, for the “finders” and “stealers” of -dogs were the more especial subjects of a parliamentary inquiry, from -which I derive the official information on the matter. The Report of -the Committee was ordered by the House of Commons to be printed, July -26, 1844. - -In their Report the Committee observe, concerning the value of pet -dogs:--“From the evidence of various witnesses it appears, that in one -case a spaniel was sold for 105_l._, and in another, under a sheriff’s -execution, for 95_l._ at the hammer; and 50_l._ or 60_l._ are not -unfrequently given for fancy dogs of first-rate breed and beauty.” -The hundred guineas’ dog above alluded to was a “black and tan King -Charles’s spaniel;”--indeed, Mr. Dowling, the editor of _Bell’s Life -in London_, said, in his evidence before the Committee, “I have known -as much as 150_l._ given for a dog.” He said afterwards: “There are -certain marks about the eyes and otherwise, which are considered -‘properties;’ and it depends entirely upon the property which a dog -possesses as to its value.” - -I need not dwell on the general fondness of the English for dogs, -otherwise than as regards what were the grand objects of the -dog-finders’ search--ladies’ small spaniels and lap-dogs, or, as they -are sometimes called, “carriage-dogs,” by their being the companions of -ladies inside their carriages. These animals first became fashionable -by the fondness of Charles II. for them. That monarch allowed them -undisturbed possession of the gilded chairs in his palace of Whitehall, -and seldom took his accustomed walk in the park without a tribe of -them at his heels. So “fashionable” were spaniels at that time and -afterwards, that in 1712 Pope made the chief of all his sylphs and -sylphides the guard of a lady’s lapdog. The fashion has long continued, -and still continues; and it was on this fashionable fondness for a -toy, and on the regard of many others for the noble and affectionate -qualities of the dog, that a traffic was established in London, which -became so extensive and so lucrative, that the legislature interfered, -in 1844, for the purpose of checking it. - -I cannot better show the extent and lucrativeness of this trade, -than by citing a list which one of the witnesses before Parliament, -Mr. W. Bishop, a gunmaker, delivered in to the Committee, of “cases -in which money had recently been extorted from the owners of dogs -by dog-stealers and their confederates.” There is no explanation of -the space of time included under the vague term “recently;” but the -return shows that 151 ladies and gentlemen had been the victims of -the dog-stealers or dog-finders, for in this business the words were, -and still are to a degree, synonymes, and of these 62 had been so -victimized in 1843 and in the six months of 1844, from January to -July. The total amount shown by Mr. Bishop to have been paid for the -restoration of stolen dogs was 977_l._ 4_s._ 6_d._, or an average of -6_l._ 10_s._ per individual practised upon. This large sum, it is -stated on the authority of the Committee, was only that which came -within Mr. Bishop’s knowledge, and formed, perhaps, “but a _tenth_ -part in amount” of the whole extortion. Mr. Bishop was himself in the -habit of doing business “in obtaining the restitution of dogs,” and -had once known 18_l._--the dog-stealers asked 25_l._--given for the -restitution of a spaniel. The full amount realized by this dog-stealing -was, according to the above proportion, 9772_l._ 5_s._ In 1843, 227_l._ -3_s._ 6_d._ was so realized, and 97_l._ 14_s._ 6_d._ in the six months -of 1844, within Mr. Bishop’s personal knowledge; and if this be -likewise a _tenth_ of the whole of the commerce in this line, a year’s -business, it appears, averaged 2166_l._ to the stealers or finders -of dogs. I select a few names from the list of those robbed of dogs, -either from the amount paid, or because the names are well known. The -first payment cited is from a public board, who owned a dog in their -corporate capacity: - - £ _s._ _d._ - Board of Green Cloth 8 0 0 - Hon. W. Ashley (v. t.[5]) 15 0 0 - Sir F. Burdett 6 6 0 - Colonel Udney (v. t.) 12 0 0 - Duke of Cambridge 30 0 0 - Count Kielmansegge 9 0 0 - Mr. Orby Hunter (v. t.) 15 0 0 - Mrs. Holmes (v. t.) 50 0 0 - Sir Richard Phillips (v. t.) 20 0 0 - The French Ambassador 1 11 6 - Sir R. Peel 2 0 0 - Edw. Morris, Esq. 17 0 0 - Mrs. Ram (v. t.) 15 0 0 - Duchess of Sutherland 5 0 0 - Wyndham Bruce, Esq. (v. t.) 25 0 0 - Capt. Alexander (v. t.) 22 0 0 - Sir De Lacy Evans 3 0 0 - Judge Littledale 2 0 0 - Leonino Ippolito, Esq. (v. t.) 10 0 0 - Mr. Commissioner Rae 5 0 0 - Lord Cholmondeley (v. t.) 12 0 0 - Earl Stanhope 8 0 0 - Countess of Charlemont (v. t. in 1843) 12 0 0 - Lord Alfred Paget 10 0 0 - Count Leodoffe (v. t.) 7 0 0 - Mr. Thorne (whipmaker) 12 12 0 - Mr. White (v. t.) 15 0 0 - Col. Barnard (v. t.) 14 14 0 - Mr. T. Holmes 15 0 0 - Earl of Winchelsea 6 0 0 - Lord Wharncliffe (v. t.) 12 0 0 - Hon. Mrs. Dyce Sombre 2 2 0 - M. Ude (v. t.) 10 10 0 - Count Batthyany 14 0 0 - Bishop of Ely 4 10 0 - Count D’Orsay 10 0 0 - -Thus these 36 ladies and gentlemen paid 438_l._ 5_s._ 6_d._ to -rescue their dogs from professional dog-stealers, or an average, per -individual, of upwards of 12_l._ - -These dog appropriators, as they found that they could levy -contributions not only on royalty, foreign ambassadors, peers, -courtiers, and ladies of rank, but on public bodies, and on the -dignitaries of the state, the law, the army, and the church, became -bolder and more expert in their avocations--a boldness which was -encouraged by the existing law. Prior to the parliamentary inquiry, -dog-stealing was not an indictable offence. To show this, Mr. -Commissioner Mayne quoted Blackstone to the Committee: “As to those -animals which do not serve for food, and which therefore the law holds -to have no intrinsic value, as dogs of all sorts, and other creatures -kept for whim and pleasure--though a man may have a base property -therein, and maintain a civil action for the loss of them, yet they -are not of such estimation as that the crime of stealing them amounts -to larceny.” The only mode of punishment for dog-stealing was by -summary conviction, the penalty being fine or imprisonment; but Mr. -Commissioner Mayne did not know of any instance of a dog-stealer being -sent to prison in default of payment. Although the law recognised -no property in a dog, the animal was taxed; and it was complained -at the time that an unhappy lady might have to pay tax for the full -term upon her dog, perhaps a year and a half after he had been stolen -from her. One old offender, who stole the Duke of Beaufort’s dog, was -transported, not for stealing the dog, but his collar. - -The difficulty of proving the positive theft of a dog was extreme. In -most cases, where the man was not seen actually to seize a dog which -could be identified, he escaped when carried before a magistrate. “The -dog-stealers,” said Inspector Shackell, “generally go two together; -they have a piece of liver; they say it is merely bullock’s liver, -which will entice or tame the wildest or savagest dog which there -can be in any yard; they give it him, and take him from his chain. -At other times,” continues Mr. Shackell, “they will go in the street -with a little dog, rubbed over with some sort of stuff, and will -entice valuable dogs away.... If there is a dog lost or stolen, it is -generally known within five or six hours where that dog is, and they -know almost exactly what they can get for it, so that it is a regular -system of plunder.” Mr. G. White, “dealer in live stock, dogs, and -other animals,” and at one time a “dealer in lions, and tigers, and all -sorts of things,” said of the dog-stealers: “In turning the corners of -streets there are two or three of them together; one will snatch up a -dog and put into his apron, and the others will stop the lady and say, -‘What is the matter?’ and direct the party who has lost the dog in a -contrary direction to that taken.” - -In this business were engaged from 50 to 60 men, half of them actual -stealers of the animals. The others were the receivers, and the -go-betweens or “restorers.” The thief kept the dog perhaps for a day -or two at some public-house, and he then took it to a dog-dealer with -whom he was connected in the way of business. These dealers carried on -a trade in “honest dogs,” as one of the witnesses styled them (meaning -dogs honestly acquired), but some of them dealt principally with the -dog-stealers. Their depots could not be entered by the police, being -private premises, without a search-warrant--and direct evidence was -necessary to obtain a search-warrant--and of course a stranger in quest -of a stolen dog would not be admitted. Some of the dog-dealers would -not purchase or receive dogs known to have been stolen, but others -bought and speculated in them. If an advertisement appeared offering a -reward for the dog, a negotiation was entered into. If no reward was -offered, the owner of the dog, who was always either known or made out, -was waited upon by a restorer, who undertook “to restore the dog if -terms could be come to.” A dog belonging to Colonel Fox was once kept -six weeks before the thieves would consent to the Colonel’s terms. One -of the most successful restorers was a shoemaker, and mixed little -with the actual stealers; the dog-dealers, however, acted as restorers -frequently enough. If the person robbed paid a good round sum for the -restoration of a dog, and paid it speedily, the animal was almost -certain to be stolen a second time, and a higher sum was then demanded. -Sometimes the thieves threatened that if they were any longer trifled -with they would inflict torture on the dog, or cut its throat. One -lady, Miss Brown of Bolton-street, was so worried by these threats, and -by having twice to redeem her dog, “that she has left England,” said -Mr. Bishop, “and I really do believe for the sake of keeping the dog.” -It does not appear, as far as the evidence shows, that these threats -of torture or death were ever carried into execution; some of the -witnesses had merely heard of such things. - -The shoemaker alluded to was named Taylor, and Inspector Shackell -thus describes this person’s way of transacting business in the dog -“restoring” line: “There is a man named Taylor, who is one of the -greatest restorers in London of stolen dogs, through Mr. Bishop.” [Mr. -Bishop was a gunmaker in Bond-street.] “It is a disgrace to London that -any person should encourage a man like that to go to extort money from -ladies and gentlemen, especially a respectable man. A gentleman applied -to me to get a valuable dog that was stolen, with a chain on his neck, -and the name on the collar; and I heard Mr. Bishop himself say that -it cost 6_l._; that it could not be got for less. Capt. Vansittart -(the owner of the dog) came out; I asked him particularly, ‘Will you -give me a description of the dog on a piece of paper,’ and that is his -writing (producing a paper). I went and made inquiry; and the captain -himself, who lives in Belgrave-square, said he had no objection to -give 4_l._ for the recovery of the dog, but would not give the 6_l._ I -went and took a good deal of trouble about it. I found out that Taylor -went first to ascertain what the owner of the dog would give for it, -and then went and offered 1_l._ for the dog, then 2_l._, and at last -purchased it for 3_l._; and went and told Capt. Vansittart that he had -given 4_l._ for the dog; and the dog went back through the hands of Mr. -Bishop.” - -The “restorers” had, it appears, the lion’s share in the profits of -this business. One witness had known of as much as ten guineas being -given for the recovery of a favourite spaniel, or, as the witness -styled it, for “working a dog back,” and only two of these guineas -being received by “the party.” The wronged individual, thus delicately -intimated as the “party,” was the thief. The same witness, Mr. Hobdell, -knew 14_l._ given for the restoration of a little red Scotch terrier, -which he, as a dog-dealer, valued at four shillings! - -One of the coolest instances of the organization and boldness of the -dog-stealers was in the case of Mr. Fitzroy Kelly’s “favourite Scotch -terrier.” The “parties,” possessing it through theft, asked 12_l._ for -it, and urged that it was a reasonable offer, considering the trouble -they were obliged to take. “The dog-stealers were obliged to watch -every night,” they contended, through Mr. Bishop, “and very diligently; -Mr. Kelly kept them out very late from their homes, before they could -get the dog; he used to go out to dinner or down to the Temple, and -take the dog with him; they had a deal of trouble before they could get -it.” So Mr. Kelly was expected not only to pay more than the value of -his dog, but an extra amount on account of the care he had taken of his -terrier, and for the trouble his vigilance had given to the thieves! -The matter was settled at 6_l._ Mr. Kelly’s case was but one instance. - -Among the most successful of the practitioners in this street-finding -business were Messrs. “Ginger” and “Carrots,” but a parliamentary -witness was inclined to believe that Ginger and Carrots were nicknames -for the same individual, one Barrett; although he had been in custody -several times, he was considered “a very superior dog-stealer.” - -If the stolen dog were of little value, it was safest for the stealers -to turn him loose; if he were of value, and unowned and unsought for, -there was a ready market abroad. The stewards, stokers, or seamen of -the Ostend, Antwerp, Rotterdam, Hamburgh, and all the French steamers, -readily bought stolen fancy dogs; sometimes twenty to thirty were -taken at a voyage. A steward, indeed, has given 12_l._ for a stolen -spaniel as a private speculation. Dealers, too, came occasionally -from Paris, and bought numbers of these animals, and at what the dog -foragers considered fair prices. One of the witnesses (Mr. Baker, a -game dealer in Leadenhall-market) said:--“I have seen perhaps twenty or -thirty dogs tied up in a little room, and I should suppose every one -of them was stolen; a reward not sufficiently high being offered for -their restoration, the parties get more money by taking them on board -the different steam-ships and selling them to persons on board, or to -people coming to this country to buy dogs and take them abroad.” - -The following statement, derived from Mr. Mayne’s evidence, shows the -extent of the dog-stealing business, but only as far as came under -the cognizance of the police. It shows the number of dogs “lost” or -“stolen,” and of persons “charged” with the offence, and “convicted” or -“discharged.” Nearly all the dogs returned as lost, I may observe, were -stolen, but there was no evidence to show the positive theft:-- - - +------+---------+-------+----------+------------+------------ - | | Dogs | Dogs | Persons | Convicted. | Discharged. - | | Stolen. | Lost. | Charged. | | - +------+---------+-------+----------+------------+------------ - | 1841 | 43 | 521 | 51 | 19 | 32 - | 1842 | 54 | 561 | 45 | 17 | 28 - | 1843 | 60 | 606 | 38 | 18 | 20 - +------+---------+-------+----------+------------+------------ - -In what proportion the police-known thefts stood to the whole number, -there was no evidence given; nor, I suppose, could it be given. - -The dog-stealers were not considered to be connected with -housebreakers, though they might frequent the same public-houses. Mr. -Mayne pronounced these dog-stealers a genus, a peculiar class, “what -they call dog-fanciers and dog-stealers; a sort of half-sporting, -betting characters.” - -The law on the subject of dog-stealing (8 and 9 Vict., c. 47) now is, -that “If any person shall steal any dog, every such offender shall be -deemed guilty of a misdemeanor, and, being convicted thereof before any -two or more justices of the peace, shall, for the first offence, at the -discretion of the said justices, either be committed to the common gaol -or house of correction, there to be imprisoned only, or be imprisoned -and kept to hard labour, for any term not exceeding six calendar -months, or shall forfeit and pay over and above the value of the said -dog such sum of money, not exceeding 20_l._, as to the said justices -shall seem meet. And if any person so convicted shall afterwards be -guilty of the same offence, every such offender shall be guilty of an -indictable misdemeanor, and, being convicted thereof, shall be liable -to suffer such punishment, by fine or imprisonment, with or without -hard labour, or by both, as the court in its discretion shall award, -provided such imprisonment do not exceed eighteen months.” - - -OF A DOG-“FINDER”.--A “LURKER’S” CAREER. - -Concerning a dog-finder, I received the following account from one who -had received the education of a gentleman, but whom circumstances had -driven to an association with the vagrant class, and who has written -the dog-finder’s biography from personal knowledge--a biography -which shows the _variety_ that often characterizes the career of the -“lurker,” or street-adventurer. - -“If your readers,” writes my informant, “have passed the Rubicon of -‘forty years in the wilderness,’ memory must bring back the time -when the feet of their childish pilgrimage have trodden a beautiful -grass-plot--now converted into Belgrave-square; when Pimlico was a -‘village out of town,’ and the ‘five fields’ of Chelsea were fields -indeed. To write the biography of a living character is always -delicate, as to embrace all its particulars is difficult; but of the -truthfulness of my account there is no question. - -“Probably about the year of the great frost (1814), a French Protestant -refugee, named La Roche, sought asylum in this country, not from -persecution, but from difficulties of a commercial character. He built -for himself, in Chelsea, a cottage of wood, nondescript in shape, but -pleasant in locality, and with ample accommodations for himself and -his son. Wife he had none. This little bazaar of mud and sticks was -surrounded with a bench of rude construction, on which the Sunday -visitors to Ranelagh used to sit and sip their curds and whey, while -from the entrance--far removed in those days from competition-- - - ‘There stood uprear’d, as ensign of the place, - Of blue and red and white, a checquer’d mace, - On which the paper lantern hung to tell - How cheap its owner shaved you, and how well.’ - -Things went on smoothly for a dozen years, when the old Frenchman -departed this life. - -“His boy carried on the business for a few months, when frequent -complaints of ‘Sunday gambling’ on the premises, and loud whispers of -suspicion relative to the concealment of stolen goods, induced ‘Chelsea -George’--the name the youth had acquired--to sell the good-will of the -house, fixtures, and all, and at the eastern extremity of London to -embark in business as a ‘mush or mushroom-faker.’ Independently of his -appropriation of umbrellas, proper to the mush-faker’s calling, Chelsea -George was by no means scrupulous concerning other little matters -within his reach, and if the proprietors of the ‘swell cribs’ within -his ‘beat’ had no ‘umbrellas to mend,’ or ‘old ’uns to sell,’ he would -ease the pegs in the passage of the incumbrance of a greatcoat, and -telegraph the same out of sight (by a colleague), while the servant -went in to make the desired inquiries. At last he was ‘bowl’d out’ in -the very act of ‘nailing a yack’ (stealing a watch). He ‘expiated,’ -as it is called, this offence by three months’ exercise on the -‘cockchafer’ (tread-mill). Unaccustomed as yet to the novelty of the -exercise, he fell through the wheel and broke one of his legs. He was, -of course, permitted to finish his time in the infirmary of the prison, -and on his liberation was presented with five pounds out of ‘the -Sheriffs’ Fund.’ - -“Although, as I have before stated, he had never been out of England -since his childhood, he had some little hereditary knowledge of the -French language, and by the kind and voluntary recommendation of one -of the police-magistrates of the metropolis, he was engaged by an -Irish gentleman proceeding to the Continent as a sort of supernumerary -servant, to ‘make himself generally useful.’ As the gentleman was -unmarried, and mostly stayed at hotels, George was to have permanent -wages and ‘find himself,’ a condition he invariably fulfilled, if -anything was left in his way. Frequent intemperance, neglect of duty, -and unaccountable departures of property from the portmanteau of his -master, led to his dismissal, and Chelsea George was left, without -friends or character, to those resources which have supported him for -some thirty years. - -“During his ‘umbrella’ enterprise he had lived in lodging-houses of -the lowest kind, and of course mingled with the most depraved society, -especially with the vast army of trading sturdy mendicants, male and -female, young and old, who assume every guise of poverty, misfortune, -and disease, which craft and ingenuity can devise or well-tutored -hypocrisy can imitate. Thus initiated, Chelsea George could ‘go upon -any lurk,’ could be in the last stage of consumption--actually in his -dying hour--but now and then convalescent for years and years together. -He could take fits and counterfeit blindness, be a respectable -broken-down tradesman, or a soldier maimed in the service, and -dismissed without a pension. - -“Thus qualified, no vicissitudes could be either very new or very -perplexing, and he commenced operations without delay, and pursued -them long without desertion. The ‘first move’ in his mendicant career -was _taking them on the fly_; which means meeting the gentry on their -walks, and beseeching or at times menacing them till something is -given; something in general _was_ given to get rid of the annoyance, -and, till the ‘game got stale,’ an hour’s work, morning and evening, -produced a harvest of success, and ministered to an occasion of -debauchery. - -“His less popular, but more upright father, had once been a -dog-fancier, and George, after many years vicissitude, at length -took a ‘fancy’ to the same profession, but not on any principles -recognised by commercial laws. With what success he has practised, the -ladies and gentlemen about the West-end have known, to their loss and -disappointment, for more than fifteen years past. - -“Although the police have been and still are on the alert, George -has, in every instance, hitherto escaped punishment, while numerous -detections connected with escape have enabled the offender to hold -these officials at defiance. The ‘modus operandi’ upon which George -proceeds is to varnish his hands with a sort of gelatine, composed -of the coarsest pieces of liver, fried, pulverised, and mixed up -with tincture of myrrh.” [This is the composition of which Inspector -Shackell spoke before the Select Committee, but he did not seem to know -of what the lure was concocted. My correspondent continues]: “Chelsea -George caresses every animal who seems ‘a likely spec,’ and when his -fingers have been rubbed over the dogs’ noses they become easy and -perhaps willing captives. A bag carried for the purpose, receives the -victim, and away goes George, bag and all, to his printer’s in Seven -Dials. Two bills and no less--two and no more, for such is George’s -style of work--are issued to describe the animal that has thus been -_found_, and which will be ‘restored to its owner on payment of -expenses.’ One of these George puts in his pocket, the other he pastes -up at a public-house whose landlord is ‘fly’ to its meaning, and poor -‘bow-wow’ is sold to a ‘dealer in dogs,’ not very far from Sharp’s -alley. In course of time the dog is discovered; the possessor refers -to the ‘establishment’ where he bought it; the ‘dealer makes himself -_square_,’ by giving the address of ‘the chap he bought ’un of,’ and -Chelsea George shows a copy of the advertisement, calls in the publican -as a witness, and leaves the place ‘without the slightest imputation on -his character.’ Of this man’s earnings I cannot speak with precision: -it is probable that in a ‘good year’ his clear income is 200_l._; -in a bad year but 100_l._, but, as he is very adroit, I am inclined -to believe that the ‘good’ years somewhat predominate, and that the -average income may therefore exceed 150_l._ yearly.” - - -OF THE PRESENT STREET-SELLERS OF DOGS. - -It will have been noticed that in the accounts I have given of the -former street-transactions in dogs, there is no mention of the -_sellers_. The information I have adduced is a condensation of the -evidence given before the Select Committee of the House of Commons, and -the inquiry related only to the stealing, finding, and restoring of -dogs, the selling being but an incidental part of the evidence. Then, -however, as now, the street-sellers were not implicated in the thefts -or restitution of dogs, “just except,” one man told me, “as there was -a black sheep or two in every flock.” The black sheep, however, of -this street-calling more frequently meddled with restoring, than with -“finding.” - -Another street dog-seller, an intelligent man,--who, however did not -know so much as my first informant of the state of the trade in the -olden time,--expressed a positive opinion, that no dog-stealer was -now a street-hawker (“hawker” was the word I found these men use). -His reasons for this opinion, in addition to his own judgment from -personal knowledge, are cogent enough: “It isn’t possible, sir,” he -said, “and this is the reason why. We are not a large body of men. We -stick pretty closely, when we are out, to the same places. We are as -well-known to the police, as any men whom they most know, by sight at -any rate, from meeting them every day. Now, if a lady or gentleman has -lost a dog, or it’s been stolen or strayed--and the most petted will -sometimes stray unaccountably and follow some stranger or other--why -where does she, and he, and all the family, and all the servants, first -look for the lost animal? Why, where, but at the dogs we are hawking? -No, sir, it can’t be done now, and it isn’t done in my knowledge, and -it oughtn’t to be done. I’d rather make 5_s._ on an honest dog than -5_l._ on one that wasn’t, if there was no risk about it either.” Other -information convinces me that this statement is correct. - -Of these street-sellers or hawkers there are now about twenty-five. -There may be, however, but twenty, if so many, on any given day in the -streets, as there are always some detained at home by other avocations -connected with their line of life. The places they chiefly frequent -are the Quadrant and Regent-street generally, but the Quadrant far the -most. Indeed before the removal of the colonnade, one-half at least of -all the dog-sellers of London would resort there on a very wet day, as -they had the advantage of shelter, and generally of finding a crowd -assembled, either lounging to pass the time, or waiting “for a fair -fit,” and so with leisure to look at dogs. The other places are the -West-end squares, the banks of the Serpentine, Charing-cross, the Royal -Exchange, and the Bank of England, and the Parks generally. They visit, -too, any public place to which there may be a temporary attraction of -the classes likely to be purchasers--a mere crowd of people, I was -told, was no good to the dog-hawkers, it must be a crowd of people -that had money--such as the assemblage of ladies and gentlemen who -crowd the windows of Whitehall and Parliament-street, when the Queen -opens or prorogues the houses. These spectators fill the street and -the Horse-guards’ portion of the park as soon as the street mass has -dispersed, and they often afford the means of a good day’s work to the -dog people. - -Two dogs, carefully cleaned and combed, or brushed, are carried in a -man’s arms for street-vending. A fine chain is generally attached to a -neat collar, so that the dog can be relieved from the cramped feel he -will experience if kept off his feet too long. In carrying these little -animals for sale--for it is the smaller dogs which are carried--the men -certainly display them to the best advantage. Their longer silken ears, -their prominent dark eyes and black noses, and the delicacy of their -fore-paws, are made as prominent as possible, and present what the -masses very well call “quite a pictur.” I have alluded to the display -of the _Spaniels_, as they constitute considerably more than half of -the street trade in dogs, the “King Charleses” and the “Blenheims” -being disposed of in nearly equal quantities. They are sold for -lap-dogs, pets, carriage companions or companions in a walk, and are -often intelligent and affectionate. Their colours are black, black and -tan, white and liver-colour, chestnut, black and white, and entirely -white, with many shades of these hues, and inter-blendings of them, one -with another, and with gray. - -The small _Terriers_ are, however, coming more into fashion, or, as -the hawkers call it, into “vogue.” They are usually black, with tanned -muzzles and feet, and with a keen look, their hair being short and -smooth. Some, however, are preferred with long and somewhat wiry hair, -and the colour is often strongly mixed with gray. A small Isle of Skye -terrier--but few, I was informed know a “real Skye”--is sometimes -carried in the streets, as well as the little rough dogs known as -Scotch terriers. When a street-seller has a litter of terrier pups, he -invariably selects the handsomest for the streets, for it happens--my -informant did not know why, but he and others were positive that so -it was--that the handsomest is the worst; “the worst,” it must be -understood as regards the possession of choice sporting qualities, more -especially of pluck. The terrier’s education, as regards his prowess in -a rat-pit, is accordingly neglected; and if a gentleman ask, “Will he -kill rats?” the answer is in the negative; but this is no disparagement -to the sale, because the dog is sold, perhaps, for a lady’s pet, and is -not wanted to kill rats, or to “fight any dog of his weight.” - -The _Pugs_, for which, 40 to 50 years ago, and, in a diminished -degree, 30 years back, there was, in the phrase of the day, “quite a -rage,” provided only the pug was hideous, are now never offered in the -streets, or so rarely, that a well-known dealer assured me he had only -sold one in the streets for two years. A Leadenhall tradesman, fond of -dogs, but in no way connected with the trade, told me that it came to -be looked upon, that a pug was a fit companion for only snappish old -maids, and “so the women wouldn’t have them any longer, least of all -the old maids.” - -_French Poodles_ are also of rare street-sale. One man had a white -poodle two or three years ago, so fat and so round, that a lady, who -priced it, was told by a gentleman with her, that if the head and the -short legs were removed, and the inside scooped out, the animal would -make a capital muff; yet even _that_ poodle was difficult of sale at -50_s._ - -Occasionally also an _Italian Greyhound_, seeming cold and shivery on -the warmest days, is borne in a hawker’s arms, or if following on foot, -trembling and looking sad, as if mentally murmuring at the climate. - -In such places as the banks of the Serpentine, or in the Regent’s-park, -the hawker does not carry his dogs in his arms, so much as let them -trot along with him in a body, and they are sure to attract attention; -or he sits down, and they play or sleep about him. One dealer told me -that children often took such a fancy for a pretty spaniel, that it -was difficult for either mother, governess, or nurse, to drag them -away until the man was requested to call in the evening, bringing with -him the dog, which was very often bought, or the hawker recompensed -for his loss of time. But sometimes the dog-dealers, I heard from -several, meet with great shabbiness among rich people, who recklessly -give them no small trouble, and sometimes put them to expense without -the slightest return, or even an acknowledgment or a word of apology. -“There’s one advantage in my trade,” said a dealer in live animals, “we -always has to do with principals. There’s never a lady would let her -most favouritest maid choose her dog for her. So no parkisits.” - -The species which I have enumerated are all that are now sold in the -streets, with the exception of an odd “plum-pudding,” or coach-dog -(the white dog with dark spots which runs after carriages), or an odd -bull-dog, or bull-terrier, or indeed with the exception of “odd dogs” -of every kind. The hawkers are, however, connected with the trade in -sporting dogs, and often through the medium of their street traffic, as -I shall show under the next head of my subject. - -There is one peculiarity in the hawking of fancy dogs, which -distinguishes it from all other branches of street-commerce. The -purchasers are all of the wealthier class. This has had its influence -on the manners of the dog-sellers. They will be found, in the majority -of cases, quiet and deferential men, but without servility, and with -little of the quality of speech; and I speak only of speech which -among English people is known as “gammon,” and among Irish people as -“blarney.” This manner is common to many; to the established trainer -of race-horses for instance, who is in constant communication with -persons in a very superior position in life to his own, and to whom he -is exceedingly deferential. But the trainer feels that in all points -connected with his not very easy business, as well, perhaps, as in -general turf knowingness, his royal highness (as was the case once), -or his grace, or my lord, or Sir John, was inferior to himself; and so -with all his deference there mingles a strain of quiet contempt, or -rather, perhaps, of conscious superiority, which is one ingredient in -the formation of the manners I have hastily sketched. - -The customers of the street-hawkers of dogs are ladies and gentlemen, -who buy what may have attracted their admiration. The kept mistresses -of the wealthier classes are often excellent customers. “Many of ’em, -I know,” was said to me, “dotes on a nice spaniel. Yes, and I’ve known -gentlemen buy dogs for their misses; I couldn’t be mistaken when I -might be sent on with them, which was part of the bargain. If it was -a two-guinea dog or so, I was told never to give a hint of the price -to the servant, or to anybody. _I_ know why. It’s easy for a gentleman -that wants to please a lady, and not to lay out any great matter -of tin, to say that what had really cost him two guineas, cost him -twenty.” If one of the working classes, or a small tradesman, buy a dog -in the streets, it is generally because he is “of a fancy turn,” and -breeds a few dogs, and traffics in them in hopes of profit. - -The homes of the dog-hawkers, as far as I had means of -ascertaining--and all I saw were of the same character--are comfortable -and very cleanly. The small spaniels, terriers, &c.,--I do not now -allude to sporting dogs--are generally kept in kennels, or in small -wooden houses erected for the purpose in a back garden or yard. These -abodes are generally in some open court, or little square or “grove,” -where there is a free access of air. An old man who was sitting at -his door in the summer evening, when I called upon a dog-seller, and -had to wait a short time, told me that so quiet were his next-door -neighbour’s (the street-hawker’s) dogs, that for some weeks, he did not -know his newly-come neighbour was a dog-man; although he was an old -nervous man himself, and couldn’t bear any unpleasant noise or smell. -The scrupulous observance of cleanliness is necessary in the rearing or -keeping of small fancy dogs, for without such observance the dog would -have a disagreeable odour about it, enough to repel any lady-buyer. It -is a not uncommon declaration among dog-sellers that the animals are -“as sweet as nuts.” Let it be remembered that I have been describing -the class of regular dog-sellers, making, by an open and established -trade, a tolerable livelihood. - -The spaniels, terriers, &c., the stock of these hawkers, are either -bred by them--and they all breed a few or a good many dogs--or they -are purchased of dog-dealers (not street-sellers), or of people who -having a good fancy breed of “King Charleses,” or “Blenheims,” rear -dogs, and sell them by the litter to the hawkers. The hawkers also -buy dogs brought to them, “in the way of business,” but they are wary -how they buy any animal suspected to be stolen, or they may get into -“trouble.” One man, a carver and gilder, I was informed, some ten years -back, made a good deal of money by his “black-patched” spaniels. These -dogs had a remarkable black patch over their eyes, and so fond was -the dog-fancier, or breeder of them, that when he disposed of them to -street-sellers or others, he usually gave a portrait of the animals, of -his own rude painting, into the bargain. These paintings he also sold, -slightly framed, and I have seen them--but not so much lately--offered -in the streets, and hung up in poor persons’ rooms. This man lived in -York-square, behind the Colosseum, then a not very reputable quarter. -It is now Munster-square, and of a reformed character, but the seller -of dogs and the donor of their portraits has for some time been lost -sight of. - -The prices at which fancy-dogs are sold in the streets are about the -same for all kinds. They run from 10_s._ to 5_l._ 5_s._, but are very -rarely so low as 10_s._, as “it’s only a very scrubby thing for that.” -Two and three guineas are frequent street prices for a spaniel or small -terrier. Of the dogs sold, as I have before stated, more than one-half -are spaniels. Of the remainder, more than one-half are terriers; and -the surplusage, after this reckoning, is composed in about equal -numbers of the other dogs I have mentioned. The exportation of dogs -is not above a twentieth of what it was before the appointment of the -Select Committee, but a French or Belgium dealer sometimes comes to -London to buy dogs. - -It is not easy to fix upon any per-centage as to the profit of the -street dog-sellers. There is the keep and the rearing of the animal to -consider; and there is the same uncertainty in the traffic as in all -traffics which depend, not upon a demand for use, but on the caprices -of fashion, or--to use the more appropriate word, when writing on such -a subject--of “fancy.” A hawker may sell three dogs in one day, without -any extraordinary effort, or, in the same manner of trading, and -frequenting the very same places, may sell only one in three days. In -the winter, the dogs are sometimes offered in public houses, but seldom -as regards the higher-priced animals. - -From the best data I can command, it appears that each hawker sells -“three dogs and a half, if you take it that way, splitting a dog like, -every week the year through; that is, sir, four or five one week in the -summer, when trade’s brisk and days are long, and only two or three -the next week, when trade may be flat, and in winter when there isn’t -the same chance.” Calculating, then, that seven dogs are sold by each -hawker in a fortnight, at an average price of 50_s._ each, which is -not a high average, and supposing that but twenty men are trading in -this line the year through, we find that no less a sum than 9100_l._ is -yearly expended in this street-trade. The weekly profit of the hawker -is from 25_s._ to 40_s._ More than seven-eighths of these dogs are bred -in this country, Italian greyhounds included. - -A hawker of dogs gave me a statement of his life, but it presented -so little of incident or of change, that I need not report it. He -had assisted and then succeeded his father in the business; was a -pains-taking, temperate, and industrious man, seldom taking even a -glass of ale, so that the tenour of his way had been even, and he was -prosperous enough. - -I will next give an account of the connection of the hawkers of dogs -with the “sporting” or “fancy” part of the business; and of the present -state of dog “finding,” to show the change since the parliamentary -investigation. - -I may observe that in this traffic the word “fancy” has two -significations. A dog recommended by its beauty, or any peculiarity, -so that it be suitable for a pet-dog, is a “fancy” animal; so is he if -he be a fighter, or a killer of rats, however ugly or common-looking; -but the term “sporting dog” seems to become more and more used in -this case: nor is the first-mentioned use of the word “fancy,” at all -strained or very original, for it is lexicographically defined as “an -opinion bred rather by the imagination than the reason, inclination, -liking, caprice, humour, whim, frolick, idle scheme, vagary.” - -[Illustration: THE STREET DOG-SELLER.] - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SPORTING DOGS. - -The use, if use it may be styled, of sporting, or fighting dogs, is -now a mere nothing to what it once was. There are many sports--an -appellation of many a brute cruelty--which have become extinct, -some of them long extinct. Herds of bears, for instance, were once -maintained in this country, merely to be baited by dogs. It was even -a part of royal merry-making. It was a sport altogether congenial -to the spirit of Henry VIII.; and when his daughter, then Queen Mary, -visited her sister Elizabeth at Hatfield House, now the residence -of the Marquess of Salisbury, there was a bear-baiting for their -delectation--_after mass_. Queen Elizabeth, on her accession to the -throne, seems to have been very partial to the baiting of bears and -of bulls; for she not unfrequently welcomed a foreign ambassador with -such exhibitions. The historians of the day intimate--they dared do -no more--that Elizabeth affected these rough sports the most in the -decline of life, when she wished to seem still sprightly, active, and -healthful, in the eyes of her courtiers and her subjects. Laneham, -whose veracity has not been impeached--though Sir Walter Scott has -pronounced him to be as thorough a coxcomb as ever blotted paper--thus -describes a bear-bait in presence of the Queen, and after quoting his -description I gladly leave the subject. I make the citation in order to -show and contrast the former with the present use of sporting dogs. - -“It was a sport very pleasant to see the bear, with his pink eyes -leering after his enemies, approach; the nimbleness and wait of the -dog to take his advantage; and the force and experience of the bear -again to avoid his assaults: if he were bitten in one place, how he -would pinch in another to get free; that if he were taken once, then -by what shift with biting, with clawing, with roaring with tossing and -tumbling, he would work and wind himself from them; and, when he was -loose, to shake his ears twice or thrice, with the blood and the slaver -hanging about his physiognomy.” - -The suffering which constituted the great delight of the _sport_ was -even worse than this, in bull-baiting, for the bull gored or tossed the -dogs to death more frequently than the bear worried or crushed them. - -The principal place for the carrying on of these barbarities was -at Paris Garden, not far from St. Saviour’s Church, Southwark. The -clamour, and wrangling, and reviling, with and without blows, at these -places, gave a proverbial expression to the language. “The place was -like a bear-garden,” for “gardens” they were called. These pastimes -beguiled the _Sunday_ afternoons more than any other time, and were -among the chief delights of the people, “until,” writes Dr. Henry, -collating the opinions of the historians of the day, “until the refined -amusements of the drama, possessing themselves by degrees of the public -taste, if they did not mend the morals of the age, at least forced -brutal barbarity to quit the stage.” - -Of this sport in Queen Anne’s days, Strutt’s industry has collected -advertisements telling of bear and bull-baiting at Hockley-in-the-Hole, -and “Tuttle”-fields, Westminster, and of dog-fights at the same places. -Marylebone was another locality famous for these pastimes, and for its -breed of mastiffs, which dogs were most used for baiting the bears, -whilst bull-dogs were the antagonists of the bull. Gay, who was a -sufficiently close observer, and a close observer of street-life too, -as is well shown in his “Trivia,” specifies these localities in one of -his fables:-- - - “Both Hockley-hole and Mary-bone - The combats of my dog have known.” - -Hockley-hole was not far from Smithfield-market. - -In the same localities the practice of these sports lingered, becoming -less and less every year, until about the middle of the last century. -In the country, bull-baiting was practised twenty times more commonly -than bear-baiting; for bulls were plentiful, and bears were not. There -are, perhaps, none of our older country towns without the relic of -its bull-ring--a strong iron ring inserted into a large stone in the -pavement, to which the baited bull was tied; or a knowledge of the site -where the bull-ring was. The deeds of the baiting-dogs were long talked -of by the vulgar. These sports, and the dog-fights, maintained the -great demand for sporting dogs in former times. - -The only sporting dogs now in request--apart, of course, from hunting -and shooting (remnants of the old barbarous delight in torture or -slaughter), for I am treating only of the street-trade, to which -fox-hounds, harriers, pointers, setters, cockers, &c., &c., are -unknown--are terriers and bull-terriers. Bull-dogs cannot now be -classed as sporting, but only as fancy dogs, for they are not good -fighters, I was informed, one with another, their mouths being too -small. - -The way in which the sale of sporting dogs is connected with -street-traffic is in this wise: Occasionally a sporting-dog is offered -for sale in the streets, and then, of course, the trade is direct. At -other times, gentlemen buying or pricing the smaller dogs, ask the cost -of a bull-dog, or a bull-terrier or rat-terrier, and the street-seller -at once offers to supply them, and either conducts them to a -dog-dealer’s, with whom he may be commercially connected, and where -they can purchase those dogs, or he waits upon them at their residences -with some “likely animals.” A dog-dealer told me that he hardly knew -what made many gentlemen so fond of bull-dogs, and they were “the -fonder on ’em the more blackguarder and varmint-looking the creatures -was,” although now they were useless for sport, and the great praise of -a bull-dog, “never flew but at head in his life,” was no longer to be -given to him, as there were no bulls at whose heads he could now fly. - -Another dog-dealer informed me--with what truth as to the judgment -concerning horses I do not know, but no doubt with accuracy as -to the purchase of the dogs--that Ibrahim Pacha, when in London, -thought little of the horses which he saw, but was delighted with the -bull-dogs, “and he weren’t so werry unlike one in the face hisself,” -was said at the time by some of the fancy. Ibrahim, it seems, bought -two of the finest and largest bull-dogs in London, of Bill George, -giving no less than 70_l._ for the twain. The bull-dogs now sold by the -street-folk, or through their agency in the way I have described, are -from 5_l._ to 25_l._ each. The bull-terriers, of the best blood, are -about the same price, or perhaps 10 to 15 per cent. lower, and rarely -attaining the tip-top price. - -The bull-terriers, as I have stated, are now the chief fighting-dogs, -but the patrons of those combats--of those small imitations of the -savage tastes of the Roman Colosseum, may deplore the decay of the -amusement. From the beginning, until well on to the termination of -the last century, it was not uncommon to see announcements of “twenty -dogs to fight for a collar,” though such advertisements were far more -common at the commencement than towards the close of the century. Until -within these twelve years, indeed, dog-matches were not unfrequent -in London, and the favourite time for the regalement was on Sunday -mornings. There were dog-pits in Westminster, and elsewhere, to which -the admission was not very easy, for only known persons were allowed -to enter. The expense was considerable, the risk of punishment was not -a trifle, and it is evident that this Sunday game was _not supported -by the poor or working classes_. Now dog-fights are rare. “There’s -not any public dog-fights,” I was told, “and very seldom any in a pit -at a public-house, but there’s a good deal of it, I know, _at the -private houses of the nobs_.” I may observe that “the nobs” is a common -designation for the rich among these sporting people. - -There are, however, occasionally dog-fights in a sporting-house, and -the order of the combat is thus described to me: “We’ll say now that -it’s a scratch fight; two dogs have each their corner of a pit, and -they’re set to fight. They’ll fight on till they go down together, and -then if one leave hold, he’s sponged. Then they fight again. If a dog -has the worst of it he mustn’t be picked up, but if he gets into his -corner, then he can stay for as long as may be agreed upon, minute -or half-minute time, or more than a minute. If a dog won’t go to the -scratch out of his corner, he loses the fight. If they fight on, why to -settle it, one must be killed--though that very seldom happens, for if -a dog’s very much punished, he creeps to his corner and don’t come out -to time, and so the fight’s settled. Sometimes it’s agreed beforehand, -that the master of a dog may give in for him; sometimes that isn’t to -be allowed; but there’s next to nothing of this now, unless it’s in -private among the nobs.” - -It has been said that a sportsman--perhaps in the relations of life -a benevolent man--when he has failed to kill a grouse or pheasant -outright, and proceeds to grasp the fluttering and agonised bird and -smash its skull against the barrel of his gun, reconciles himself to -the sufferings he inflicts by the _pride of art_, the consciousness of -skill--he has brought down his bird at a long shot; that, too, when he -cares nothing for the possession of the bird. The same feeling hardens -him against the most piteous, woman-like cry of the hare, so shot that -it cannot run. Be this as it may, it cannot be urged that in matching -a favourite dog there can be any such feeling to destroy the sympathy. -The men who thus amuse themselves are then utterly insensible to any -pang at the infliction of pain upon animals, witnessing the infliction -of it merely for a passing excitement: and in this insensibility the -whole race who cater to such recreations of the wealthy, as well as -the wealthy themselves, participate. There is another feeling too at -work, and one proper to the sporting character--every man of this class -considers the glories of his horse or his dog his own, a feeling very -dear to selfishness. - -The main sport now, however, in which dogs are the agents is -rat-hunting. It is called hunting, but as the rats are all confined in -a pit it is more like mere killing. Of this sport I have given some -account under the head of rat-catching. The dogs used are all terriers, -and are often the property of the street-sellers. The most accomplished -of this terrier race was the famous dog Billy, the eclipse of the rat -pit. He is now enshrined--for a stuffed carcase is all that remains -of Billy--in a case in the possession of Charley Heslop of the Seven -Bells behind St. Giles’s Church, with whom Billy lived and died. His -great feat was that he killed 100 rats in five minutes. I understand, -however, that it is still a moot point in the sporting world, whether -Billy did or did not exceed the five minutes by a very few seconds. A -merely average terrier will easily kill fifty rats in a pit in eight -minutes, but many far exceed such a number. One dealer told me that -he would back a terrier bitch which did not weigh 12 lbs. to kill 100 -rats in six minutes. The price of these dogs ranges with that of the -bull-terriers. - -The passion for rat-hunting is evidently on the increase, and seems to -have attained the popularity once vouchsafed to cock-fighting. There -are now about seventy regular pits in London, besides a few that are -run up for temporary purposes. The landlord of a house in the Borough, -familiar with these sports, told me that they would soon have to breed -rats for a sufficient supply! - -But it is not for the encounter with dogs alone, the issue being that -so many rats shall be killed in a given time, that these vermin are -becoming a trade commodity. Another use for them is announced in the -following card:-- - - A FERRET MATCH. - - A Rare Evening’s Sport for the Fancy will take place - at the - “---- ----,” - ---- STREET, NEW ROAD, - _On Tuesday Evening next, May 27._ - - * * * * * - - MR. ---- ---- - has backed his Ferret against Mr. W. B----’s Ferret to - kill 6 Rats each, for 10_s._ a-side. - - He is still open to match his Ferret for £1 to £5 to kill - against any other Ferret in London. - - * * * * * - - _Two other Matches with Terriers will come off the same - Evening._ - - * * * * * - - Matches take place every ---- Evening. Rats always - on hand for the accommodation of Gentlemen to try - their dogs. - - Under the Management of ---- - -As a rat-killer, a ferret is not to be compared to a dog; but his -use is to kill rats in holes, inaccessible to dogs, or to drive the -vermin out of their holes into some open space, where they can be -destroyed. Ferrets are worth from 1_l._ to 4_l._ They are not animals -of street-sale. - -The management of these sports is principally in the hands of the -street dog-sellers, as indeed is the dog-trade generally. They are the -breeders, dealers, and sellers. They are compelled, as it were, to -exhibit their dogs in the streets, that they may attract the attention -of the rich, who would not seek them in their homes in the suburbs. -The evening business in rat-hunting, &c., for such it is principally, -perhaps doubles the incomes I have specified as earned merely by -street-_sale_. The amount “turned over” in the trade in sporting-dogs -yearly in London, was computed for me by one of the traders at from -12,000_l._ to 15,000_l._ He could not, however, lay down any very -precise statistics, as some bull-dogs, bull-terriers, &c., were bred by -butchers, tanners, publicans, horse-dealers, and others, and disposed -of privately. - - * * * * * - -In my account of the former condition of the dog-trade, I had to dwell -principally on the stealing and restoring of dogs. This is now the -least part of the subject. The alteration in the law, consequent upon -the parliamentary inquiry, soon wrought a great change, especially the -enactment of the 6th Sect. in the Act 8 and 9 Vict. c. 47. “Any person -who shall corruptly take any money or reward, directly or indirectly, -under pretence or upon account of aiding any person to recover any -dog which shall have been stolen, or which shall be in the possession -of any person not being the owner thereof, shall be guilty of a -misdemeanour, and punishable accordingly.” - -There may now, I am informed, be half a dozen fellows who make a -precarious living by dog-stealing. These men generally keep out of the -way of the street dog-sellers, who would not scruple, they assure me, -to denounce their practices, as the more security a purchaser feels in -the property and possession of a dog, the better it is for the regular -business. One of these dog-stealers, dressed like a lime-burner--they -generally appear as mechanics--was lately seen to attempt the enticing -away of a dog. Any idle good-for-nothing fellow, slinking about the -streets, would also, I was informed, seize any stray dog within his -reach, and sell it for any trifle he could obtain. One dealer told -me that there might still be a little doing in the “restoring” way, -and with that way of life were still mixed up names which figured in -the parliamentary inquiry, but it was a mere nothing to what it was -formerly. - -From a man acquainted with the dog business I had the following -account. My informant was not at present connected with the dog and -rat business, but he seemed to have what is called a “hankering after -it.” He had been a pot-boy in his youth, and had assisted at the bar of -public-houses, and so had acquired a taste for sporting, as some “fancy -coves” were among the frequenters of the tap-room and skittle-ground. -He had speculated a little in dogs, which a friend reared, and he -sold to the public-house customers. “At last I went slap into the -dog-trade,” he said, “but I did no good at all. There’s a way to do it, -I dare say, or perhaps you must wait to get known, but then you may -starve as you wait. I tried Smithfield first--it’s a good bit since, -but I can’t say how long--and I had a couple of tidy little terriers -that we’d bred; I thought I’d begin cheap to turn over money quick, -so I asked 12_s._ a-piece for them. O, in course they weren’t a werry -pure sort. But I couldn’t sell at all. If a grazier, or a butcher, or -anybody looked at them, and asked their figure, they’d say, ‘Twelve -shillings! a dog what ain’t worth more nor 12_s._ ain’t worth a d--n!’ -I asked one gent a sovereign, but there was a lad near that sung out, -‘Why, you only axed 12_s._ a bit since; ain’t you a-coming it?’ After -that, I was glad to get away. I had five dogs when I started, and about -1_l._ 8_s._ 6_d._ in money, and some middling clothes; but my money -soon went, for I could do no business, and there was the rent, and -then the dogs must be properly fed, or they’d soon show it. At last, -when things grew uncommon taper, I almost grudged the poor things -their meat and their sop, for they were filling their bellies, and I -was an ’ung’ring. I got so seedy, too, that it was no use trying the -streets, for any one would think I’d stole the dogs. So I sold them -one by one. I think I got about 5_s._ apiece for them, for people took -their advantage on me. After that I fasted oft enough. I helped about -the pits, and looked out for jobs of any kind, cleaning knives and -spittoons at a public-house, and such-like, for a bite and sup. And I -sometimes got leave to sit up all night in a stable or any out-house -with a live rat trap that I could always borrow, and catch rats to -sell to the dealers. If I could get three lively rats in a night, it -was good work, for it was as good as 1_s._ to me. I sometimes won a -pint, or a tanner, when I could cover it, by betting on a rat-hunt -with helpers like myself--but it was only a few places we were let -into, just where I was known--’cause I’m a good judge of a dog, you -see, and if I had it to try over again, I think I could knock a tidy -living out of dog-selling. Yes, I’d like to try well enough, but it’s -no use trying if you haven’t a fairish bit of money. I’d only myself -to keep all this time, but that was one too many. I got leave to sleep -in hay-lofts, or stables, or anywhere, and I have slept in the park. -I don’t know how many months I was living this way. I got not to mind -it much at last. Then I got to carry out the day and night beers for a -potman what had hurt his foot and couldn’t walk quick and long enough -for supplying his beer, as there was five rounds every day. He lent -me an apron and a jacket to be decent. After that I got a potman’s -situation. No, I’m not much in the dog and rat line now, and don’t see -much of it, for I’ve very little opportunity. But I’ve a very nice -Scotch terrier to sell if you should be wanting such a thing, or hear -of any of your friends wanting one. It’s dirt cheap at 30_s._, just -about a year old. Yes, I generally has a dog, and swops and sells. Most -masters allows that in a quiet respectable way.” - - -OF THE STREET SELLERS OF LIVE BIRDS. - -The bird-_sellers_ in the streets are also the bird-_catchers_ in the -fields, plains, heaths, and woods, which still surround the metropolis; -and in compliance with established precedent it may be proper that I -should give an account of the catching, before I proceed to any further -statement of the procedures subsequent thereunto. The bird-catchers are -precisely what I have described them in my introductory remarks. An -intelligent man, versed in every part of the bird business, and well -acquainted with the character of all engaged in it, said they might -be represented as of “the fancy,” in a small way, and always glad to -run after, and full of admiration of, fighting men. The bird-catcher’s -life is one essentially vagrant; a few gipsies pursue it, and they -mix little in street-trades, except as regards tinkering; and the -mass, not gipsies, who become bird-catchers, rarely leave it for any -other avocation. They “catch” unto old age. During last winter two -men died in the parish of Clerkenwell, both turned seventy, and both -bird-catchers--a profession they had followed from the age of six. - -The mode of catching I will briefly describe. It is principally -effected by means of nets. A bird-net is about twelve yards square; -it is spread flat upon the ground, to which it is secured by four -“stars.” These are iron pins, which are inserted in the field, and hold -the net, but so that the two “wings,” or “flaps,” which are indeed -the sides of the nets, are not confined by the stars. In the middle -of the net is a cage with a fine wire roof, widely worked, containing -the “call-bird.” This bird is trained to sing loudly and cheerily, -great care being bestowed upon its tuition, and its song attracts the -wild birds. Sometimes a few stuffed birds are spread about the cage as -if a flock were already assembling there. The bird-catcher lies flat -and motionless on the ground, 20 or 30 yards distant from the edge -of the net. As soon as he considers that a sufficiency of birds have -congregated around his decoy, he rapidly draws towards him a line, -called the “pull-line,” of which he has kept hold. This is so looped -and run within the edges of the net, that on being smartly pulled, -the two wings of the net collapse and fly together, the stars still -keeping their hold, and the net encircles the cage of the call-bird, -and incloses in its folds all the wild birds allured round it. In fact -it then resembles a great cage of net-work. The captives are secured -in cages--the call-bird continuing to sing as if in mockery of their -struggles--or in hampers proper for the purpose, which are carried on -the man’s back to London. - -The use of the call-bird as a means of decoy is very ancient. -Sometimes--and more especially in the dark, as in the taking of -nightingales--the bird-catcher imitates the notes of the birds to be -captured. A small instrument has also been used for the purpose, and to -this Chaucer, although figuratively, alludes: “So, the birde is begyled -with the merry voice of the foulers’ whistel, when it is closed in your -nette.” - -Sometimes, in the pride of the season, a bird-catcher engages a -costermonger’s poney or donkey cart, and perhaps his boy, the better -to convey the birds to town. The net and its apparatus cost 1_l._ The -call-bird, if he have a good wild note--goldfinches and linnets being -principally so used--is worth 10_s._ at the least. - -The bird-catcher’s life has many, and to the constitution of some -minds, irresistible charms. There is the excitement of “sport”--not the -headlong excitement of the chase, where the blood is stirred by motion -and exercise--but still sport surpassing that of the angler, who plies -his finest art to capture one fish at a time, while the bird-catcher -despises an individual capture, but seeks to ensnare a flock at one -twitch of a line. There is, moreover, the attraction of idleness, at -least for intervals, and sometimes long intervals--perhaps the great -charm of fishing--and basking in the lazy sunshine, to watch the -progress of the snares. Birds, however, and more especially linnets, -are caught in the winter, when it is not quite such holiday work. A -bird-dealer (not a street-seller) told me that the greatest number of -birds he had ever heard of as having been caught at one pull was nearly -200. My informant happened to be present on the occasion. “Pulls” of -50, 100, and 150 are not very unfrequent when the young broods are all -on the wing. - -Of the bird-catchers, including all who reside in Woolwich, Greenwich, -Hounslow, Isleworth, Barnet, Uxbridge, and places of similar -distance, all working for the London market, there are about 200. -The localities where these men “catch,” are the neighbourhoods of -the places I have mentioned as their residences, and at Holloway, -Hampstead, Highgate, Finchley, Battersea, Blackheath, Putney, Mortlake, -Chiswick, Richmond, Hampton, Kingston, Eltham, Carshalton, Streatham, -the Tootings, Woodford, Epping, Snaresbrook, Walthamstow, Tottenham, -Edmonton--wherever, in fine, are open fields, plains, or commons around -the metropolis. - -I will first enumerate the several birds sold in the streets, as well -as the supply to the shops by the bird-catchers. I have had recourse -to the best sources of information. Of the number of birds which I -shall specify as “supplied,” or “caught,” it must be remembered that a -not-very-small proportion die before they can be trained to song, or -inured to a cage life. I shall also give the street prices. All the -birds are caught by the nets with call-birds, excepting such as I shall -notice. I take the singing birds first. - -The _Linnet_ is the cheapest and among the most numerous of what may -be called the London-caught birds, for it is caught in the nearer -suburbs, such as Holloway. The linnet, however,--the brown linnet -being the species--is not easily reared, and for some time ill brooks -confinement. About one-half of those birds die after having been caged -a few days. The other evening a bird-catcher supplied 26 fine linnets -to a shopkeeper in Pentonville, and next morning ten were dead. But -in some of those bird shops, and bird chambers connected with the -shops, the heat at the time the new broods are caught and caged, -is excessive; and the atmosphere, from the crowded and compulsory -fellowship of pigeons, and all descriptions of small birds, with white -rats, hedgehogs, guinea-pigs, and other creatures, is often very foul; -so that the wonder is, not that so many die, but that so many survive. - -Some bird-connoisseurs prefer the note of the linnet to that of the -canary, but this is far from a general preference. The young birds -are sold in the streets at 3_d._ and 4_d._ each; the older birds, -which are accustomed to sing in their cages, from 1_s._ to 2_s._ 6_d._ -The “catch” of linnets--none being imported--may be estimated, for -London alone, at 70,000 yearly. The mortality I have mentioned is -confined chiefly to that year’s brood. One-tenth of the catch is sold -in the streets. Of the quality of the street-sold birds I shall speak -hereafter. - -The _Bullfinch_, which is bold, familiar, docile, and easily attached, -is a favourite cage-bird among the Londoners; I speak of course as -regards the body of the people. It is as readily sold in the streets -as any other singing bird. Piping bullfinches are also a part of -street-trade, but only to a small extent, and with bird-sellers who -can carry them from their street pitches, or call on their rounds, -at places where they are known, to exhibit the powers of the bird. -The piping is taught to these finches when very young, and they must -be brought up by their tutor, and be familiar with him. When little -more than two months old, they begin to whistle, and then their -training as pipers must commence. This tuition, among professional -bullfinch-trainers, is systematic. They have schools of birds, and -teach in bird-classes of from four to seven members in each, six being -a frequent number. These classes, when their education commences, are -kept unfed for a longer time than they have been accustomed to, and -they are placed in a darkened room. The bird is wakeful and attentive -from the want of his food, and the tune he is to learn is played -several times on an instrument made for the purpose, and known as a -bird-organ, its notes resembling those of the bullfinch. For an hour -or two the young pupils mope silently, but they gradually begin to -imitate the notes of the music played to them. When one commences--and -he is looked upon as the most likely to make a good piper--the others -soon follow his example. The light is then admitted and a portion of -food, but not a full meal, is given to the birds. Thus, by degrees, -by the playing on the bird-organ (a flute is sometimes used), by the -admission of light, which is always agreeable to the finch, and by the -reward of more and more, and sometimes more relishable food, the pupil -“practises” the notes he hears continuously. The birds are then given -into the care of boys, who attend to them without intermission in a -similar way, their original teacher still overlooking, praising, or -rating his scholars, till they acquire a tune which they pipe as long -as they live. It is said, however, that only five per cent. of the -number taught pipe in _perfect_ harmony. The bullfinch is often pettish -in his piping, and will in many instances not pipe at all, unless -in the presence of some one who feeds it, or to whom it has become -attached. - -The system of training I have described is that practised by the -Germans, who have for many years supplied this country with the best -piping bullfinches. Some of the dealers will undertake to procure -English-taught bullfinches which will pipe as well as the foreigners, -but I am told that this is a prejudice, if not a trick, of trade. -The mode of teaching in this country, by barbers, weavers, and -bird-fanciers generally, who seek for a profit from their pains-taking, -is somewhat similar to that which I have detailed, but with far less -elaborateness. The price of a piping bullfinch is about three guineas. -These pipers are also reared and taught in Leicestershire and Norfolk, -and sent to London, as are the singing bullfinches which do not “pipe.” - -The bullfinches netted near London are caught more numerously about -Hounslow than elsewhere. In hard winters they are abundant in the -outskirts of the metropolis. The yearly supply, including those sent -from Norfolk, &c., is about 30,000. The bullfinch is “hearty compared -to the linnet,” I was told, but of the amount which are the objects of -trade, not more than two-thirds live many weeks. The price of a good -young bullfinch is 2_s._ 6_d._ and 3_s._ They are often sold in the -streets for 1_s._ The hawking or street trade comprises about a tenth -of the whole. - -The sale of piping bullfinches is, of course, small, as only the rich -can afford to buy them. A dealer estimated it at about 400 yearly. - -The _Goldfinch_ is also in demand by street customers, and is a -favourite from its liveliness, beauty, and sometimes sagacity. It -is, moreover, the longest lived of our caged small birds, and will -frequently live to the age of fifteen or sixteen years. A goldfinch -has been known to exist twenty-three years in a cage. Small birds, -generally, rarely live more than nine years. This finch is also in -demand because it most readily of any bird pairs with the canary, the -produce being known as a “mule,” which, from its prettiness and powers -of song, is often highly valued. - -Goldfinches are sold in the streets at from 6_d._ to 1_s._ each, and -when there is an extra catch, and they are nearly all caught about -London, and the shops are fully stocked, at 3_d._ and 4_d._ each. The -yearly catch is about the same as that of the linnet, or 70,000, the -mortality being perhaps 30 per cent. If any one casts his eye over -the stock of hopping, chirping little creatures in the window of a -bird-shop, or in the close array of small cages hung outside, or at -the stock of a street-seller, he will be struck by the preponderating -number of goldfinches. No doubt the dealer, like any other shopkeeper, -dresses his window to the best advantage, putting forward his smartest -and prettiest birds. The demand for the goldfinch, especially among -women, is steady and regular. The street-sale is a tenth of the whole. - -The _Chaffinch_ is in less request than either of its congeners, the -bullfinch or the goldfinch, but the catch is about half that of the -bullfinch, and with the same rate of mortality. The prices are also -the same. - -_Greenfinches_ (called _green birds_, or sometimes _green linnets_, in -the streets) are in still smaller request than are chaffinches, and -that to about one-half. Even this smaller stock is little saleable, as -the bird is regarded as “only a middling singer.” They are sold in the -open air, at 2_d._ and 3_d._ each, but a good “green bird” is worth -2_s._ 6_d._ - -_Larks_ are of good sale and regular supply, being perhaps more -readily caught than other birds, as in winter they congregate in large -quantities. It may be thought, to witness the restless throwing up of -the head of the caged sky-lark, as if he were longing for a soar in the -air, that he was very impatient of restraint. This does not appear to -be so much the fact, as the lark adapts himself to the poor confines of -his prison--poor indeed for a bird who soars higher and longer than any -of his class--more rapidly than other wild birds, like the linnet, &c. -The mortality of larks, however, approaches one-third. - -The yearly “take” of larks is 60,000. This includes sky-larks, -wood-larks, tit-larks, and mud-larks. The sky-lark is in far better -demand than any of the others for his “stoutness of song,” but -some prefer the tit-lark, from the very absence of such stoutness. -“Fresh-catched” larks are vended in the streets at 6_d._ and 8_d._, but -a seasoned bird is worth 2_s._ 6_d._ One-tenth is the street-sale. - -The larks for the supply of fashionable tables are never provided by -the London bird-catchers, who catch only “singing larks,” for the -shop and street-traffic. The edible larks used to be highly esteemed -in pies, but they are now generally roasted for consumption. They are -principally the produce of Cambridgeshire, with some from Bedfordshire, -and are sent direct (killed) to Leadenhall-market, where about -215,000 are sold yearly, being nearly two-thirds of the gross London -consumption. - -It is only within these twelve or fifteen years that the London dealers -have cared to trade to any extent in _Nightingales_, but they are now -a part of the stock of every bird-shop of the more flourishing class. -Before that they were merely exceptional as cage-birds. As it is, -the “domestication,” if the word be allowable with reference to the -nightingale, is but partial. Like all migratory birds, when the season -for migration approaches, the caged nightingale shows symptoms of -great uneasiness, dashing himself against the wires of his cage or his -aviary, and sometimes dying in a few days. Many of the nightingales, -however, let the season pass away without showing any consciousness -that it was, with the race of birds to which they belonged, one for a -change of place. To induce the nightingale to sing in the daylight, -a paper cover is often placed over the cage, which may be gradually -and gradually withdrawn until it can be dispensed with. This is to -induce the appearance of twilight or night. On the subject of this -night-singing, however, I will cite a short passage. - -“The Nightingale is usually supposed to withhold his notes till the sun -has set, and then to be the only songster left. This is, however, not -quite true, for he sings in the day, often as sweetly and as powerfully -as at night; but amidst the general chorus of other singing birds, -his efforts are little noticed. Neither is he by any means the only -feathered musician of the night. The Wood-lark will, to a very late -hour, pour forth its rich notes, flying in circles round the female, -when sitting on her nest. The Sky-lark, too, may frequently be heard -till near midnight high in the air, soaring as if in the brightness -of a summer’s morning. Again we have listened with pleasure long -after dark to the warblings of a Thrush, and been awakened at two in -the morning by its sweet serenade.” It appears, however, that this -night-singing, as regards England, is on fine summer nights when the -darkness is never very dense. In far northern climates larks sing all -night. - -I am inclined to believe that the mortality among nightingales, before -they are reconciled to their new life, is higher than that of any -other bird, and much exceeding one-half. The dealers may be unwilling -to admit this; but such mortality is, I have been assured on good -authority, the case; besides that, the habits of the nightingale unfit -him for a cage existence. - -The capture of the nightingale is among the most difficult achievements -of the profession. None are caught nearer than Epping, and the -catchers travel considerable distances before they have a chance of -success. These birds are caught at night, and more often by their -captor’s imitation of the nightingale’s note, than with the aid of the -call-bird. Perhaps 1000 nightingales are reared yearly in London, of -which three-fourths may be, more or less, songsters. The inferior birds -are sold at about 2_s._ each, the street-sale not reaching 100, but the -birds, “caged and singing,” are worth 1_l._ each, when of the best; and -10_s._ 12_s._ and 15_s._ each when approaching the best. The mortality -I have estimated. - -_Redbreasts_ are a portion of the street-sold birds, but the catch is -not large, not exceeding 3000, with a mortality of about a third. Even -this number, small as it is, when compared with the numbers of other -singing birds sold, is got rid of with difficulty. There is a popular -feeling repugnant to the imprisonment, or coercion in any way, of “a -robin,” and this, no doubt has its influence in moderating the demand. -The redbreast is sold, when young, both in the shops and streets for -1_s._, when caged and singing, sometimes for 1_l._ These birds are -considered to sing best by candlelight. The street-sale is a fifth, or -sometimes a quarter, all young birds, or with the rarest exceptions. - -The _Thrush_, _Throstle_, or (in Scottish poetry) _Mavis_, is of good -sale. It is reared by hand, for the London market, in many of the -villages and small towns at no great distance, the nests being robbed -of the young, wherever they can be found. The nestling food of the -infant thrush is grubs, worms, and snails, with an occasional moth or -butterfly. On this kind of diet the young thrushes are reared until -they are old enough for sale to the shopkeeper, or to any private -patron. Thrushes are also netted, but those reared by hand are much -the best, as such a rearing disposes the bird the more to enjoy his -cage life, as he has never experienced the delights of the free hedges -and thickets. This process the catchers call “rising” from the nest. -A throstle thus “rose” soon becomes familiar with his owner--always -supposing that he be properly fed and his cage duly cleaned, for all -birds detest dirt--and among the working-men of England no bird is a -greater favourite than the thrush; indeed few other birds are held -in such liking by the artisan class. About a fourth of the thrushes -supplied to the metropolitan traders have been thus “rose,” and as -they must be sufficiently grown before they will be received by the -dealers, the mortality among them, when once able to feed themselves, -in their wicker-work cages, is but small. Perhaps somewhere about a -fourth perish in this hand-rearing, and some men, the aristocrats of -the trade, let a number go when they have ascertained that they are -hens, as these men exert themselves to bring up thrushes to sing well, -and then they command good prices. Often enough, however, the hens are -sold cheap in the streets. Among the catch supplied by netting, there -is a mortality of perhaps more than a third. The whole take is about -35,000. Of the sale the streets have a tenth proportion. The prices run -from 2_s._ 6_d._ and 3_s._ for the “fresh-caught,” and 10_s._, 1_l._, -and as much as 2_l._ for a seasoned throstle in high song. Indeed I may -observe that for any singing bird, which is considered greatly to excel -its mates, a high price is obtainable. - -_Blackbirds_ appear to be less prized in London than thrushes, for, -though with a mellower note, the blackbird is not so free a singer -in captivity. They are “rose” and netted in the same manner as the -thrush, but the supply is less by one-fifth. The prices, mortality, -street-sale, &c., are in the same ratio. - -The street-sale of _Canaries_ is not large; not so large, I am assured -by men in the trade, as it was six or seven years ago, more especially -as regarded the higher-priced birds of this open-air traffic. Canaries -are now never brought from the group of islands, thirteen in number, -situate in the North Atlantic and near the African coast, and from -which they derive their name. To these islands and to these alone (as -far as is known to ornithologists) are they indigenous. The canary is -a slow flyer and soon wearied; this is one reason no doubt for its not -migrating. This delightful songster was first brought into England -in the reign of Elizabeth, at the era when so many foreign luxuries -(as they were then considered, and stigmatised accordingly) were -introduced; of these were potatoes, tobacco, turkeys, nectarines, and -canaries. I have seen no account of what was the cost of a canary-bird -when first imported, but there is no doubt that they were very dear, -as they were found only in the abodes of the wealthy. This bird-trade -seems, moreover, to have been so profitable to the Spaniards, then -and now the possessors of the isles, that a government order for the -killing or setting at liberty of all hen canaries, caught with the -males, was issued in order that the breed might be confined to its -native country; a decree not attended with successful results as -regards the intention of the then ruling powers. - -The foreign supply to this country is now principally from Holland -and Germany, where canaries are reared in great numbers, with that -care which the Dutch in especial bestow upon everything on which -money-making depends, and whence they are sent or brought over in the -spring of every year, when from nine to twelve months old. Thirty -years ago, the Tyrolese were the principal breeders and purveyors of -canaries for the London market. From about the era of the peace of -1814, on the first abdication of Napoleon, for ten or twelve years -they brought over about 2000 birds yearly. They travelled the whole -way on foot, carrying the birds in cages on their backs, until they -reached whatever port in France or the Netherlands (as Belgium then -was) they might be bound for. The price of a canary of an average -quality was then from 5_s._ to 8_s._ 6_d._, and a fair proportion were -street-sold. At that period, I was told, the principal open-air sale -for canaries (and it is only of that I now write) was in Whitechapel -and Bethnal-green. All who are familiar with those localities may smile -to think that the birds chirping and singing in these especially urban -places, were bred for such street-traffic in the valleys of the Rhætian -Alps! I presume that it was the greater rapidity of communication, and -the consequent diminished cost of carriage, between England, Holland, -and Germany, that caused the Tyrolese to abandon the trade as one -unremunerative--even to men who will live on bread, onions, and water. - -I have, perhaps, dwelt somewhat at length on this portion of the -subject, but it is the most curious portion of all, for the canary is -the only one of all our singing-birds which is _solely_ a household -thing. Linnets, finches, larks, nightingales, thrushes, and blackbirds, -are all free denizens of the open air, as well as prisoners in our -rooms, but the canary with us is unknown in a wild state. “Though not -very handy,” wrote, in 1848, a very observant naturalist, the late Dr. -Stanley, Bishop of Norwich, “canaries might possibly be naturalized -in our country, by putting their eggs in the nests of sparrows, -chaffinches, or other similar birds. The experiment has been partially -tried in Berkshire, where a person for years kept them in an exposed -aviary out of doors, and where they seemed to suffer no inconvenience -from the severest weather.” - -The breeding of canaries in this country for the London supply has -greatly increased. They are bred in Leicester and Norwich, weavers -being generally fond of birds. In London itself, also, they are bred to -a greater extent than used to be the case, barbers being among the most -assiduous rearers of the canary. A dealer who trades in both foreign -and home-bred birds thought that the supply from the country, and from -the Continent, was about the same, 8000 to 9000 each, not including -what were sold by the barbers, who are regarded as “fanciers,” not to -say interlopers, by the dealers. No species of birds are ever bred by -the shop-dealers. The price of a brisk canary is 5_s._ or 6_s._; but -they are sold in the streets as low as 1_s._ each, a small cage worth -6_d._ being sometimes included. These, however, are hens. As in the -life of a canary there is no transition from freedom to enthralment, -for they are in a cage in the egg, and all their lives afterwards, they -are subject to a far lower rate of mortality than other street-sold -birds. A sixteenth of the number above stated as forming the gross -supply are sold in the streets. - - * * * * * - -The foregoing enumeration includes all the singing-birds of -street-traffic and street-folk’s supply. The trade I have thus sketched -is certainly one highly curious. We find that there is round London -a perfect belt of men, employed from the first blush of a summer’s -dawn, through the heats of noon, in many instances during the night, -and in the chills of winter; and all labouring to give to city-pent -men of humble means one of the peculiar pleasures of the country--the -song of the birds. It must not be supposed that I would intimate that -the bird-catcher’s life, as regards his field and wood pursuits, is -one of hardship. On the contrary, it seems to me to be the very one -which, perhaps unsuspected by himself, is best suited to his tastes -and inclinations. Nor can we think similar pursuits partake much of -hardship when we find independent men follow them for mere sport, to be -rid of lassitude. - - * * * * * - -But the detail of the birds captured for the Londoners by no means ends -here. I have yet to describe those which are not songsters, and which -are a staple of street-traffic to a greater degree than birds of song. -Of these my notice may be brief. - -The trade in _Sparrows_ is almost exclusively a street-trade and, -numerically considered, not an inconsiderable one. They are netted -in quantities in every open place near London, and in many places in -London. It is common enough for a bird-catcher to obtain leave to catch -sparrows in a wood-yard, a brick-field, or places where is an open -space certain to be frequented by these bold and familiar birds. The -sparrows are sold in the streets generally at 1_d._ each, sometimes -halfpenny, and sometimes 1-1/2_d._, and for no purpose of enjoyment -(as in the case of the cheap song birds), but merely as playthings for -children; in other words, for creatures wilfully or ignorantly to be -tortured. Strings are tied to their legs and so they have a certain -degree of freedom, but when they offer to fly away they are checked, -and kept fluttering in the air as a child will flutter a kite. One man -told me that he had sometimes sold as many as 200 sparrows in the back -streets about Smithfield on a fine Sunday. These birds are not kept in -cages, and so they can only be bought for a plaything. They oft enough -escape from their persecutors. - -But it is not merely for the sport of children that sparrows are -purveyed, but for that of grown men, or--as Charles Lamb, if I remember -rightly, qualifies it, when he draws a Pentonville sportsman with -a little shrubbery for his preserve--for grown cockneys. The birds -for adult recreation are shot in sparrow-matches; the gentleman -slaughtering the most being, of course, the hero of a sparrow -“_battue_.” One dealer told me that he had frequently supplied dozens -of sparrows for these matches, at 2_s._ the dozen, but they were -required to be fine bold birds! One dealer thought that during the -summer months there were as many sparrows caught close to and within -London as there were goldfinches in the less urban districts. These -birds are sold direct from the hands of the catcher, so that it is -less easy to arrive at statistics than when there is the intervention -of dealers who know the extent of the trade carried on. I was told -by several, who had no desire to exaggerate, that to estimate this -sparrow-sale at 10,000 yearly, sold to children and idlers in the -streets, was too low, but at that estimate, the outlay, at 1_d._ a -sparrow, would be 850_l._ The adult sportsmen may slaughter half that -number yearly in addition. The sporting sparrows are derived from the -shopkeepers, who, when they receive the order, instruct the catchers to -go to work. - -_Starlings_ used to be sold in very great quantities in the streets, -but the trade is now but the shadow of its former state. The starling, -too, is far less numerous than it was, and has lost much of its -popularity. It is now seldom seen in flocks of more than 40, and it is -rare to see a flock at all, although these birds at one period mustered -in congregations of hundreds and even thousands. Ruins, and the roofs -of ancient houses and barns--for they love the old and decaying -buildings--were once covered with them. The starling was moreover -the poor man’s and the peasant’s parrot. He was taught to speak, and -sometimes to swear. But now the starling, save as regards his own note, -is mute. He is seldom tamed or domesticated and taught tricks. It is -true starlings may be seen carried on sticks in the street as if the -tamest of the tame, but they are “braced.” Tapes are passed round their -bodies, and so managed that the bird cannot escape from the stick, -while his fetters are concealed by his feathers, the street-seller of -course objecting to allow his birds to be handled. - -Starlings are caught chiefly Ilford way, I was told, and about -Turnham-green. Some are “rose” from the nest. The price is from 9_d._ -to 2_s._ each. About 3000 are sold annually, half in the streets. After -having been braced, or ill-used, the starling, if kept as a solitary -bird, will often mope and die. - -_Jackdaws_ and _Magpies_ are in less demand than might be expected from -their vivacity. Many of the other birds are supplied the year round, -but daws and pies for only about two months, from the middle of June to -the middle of August. The price is from 6_d._ to 1_s._ and about 1000 -are thus disposed of, in equal quantities, one-half in the streets. -These birds are for the most part reared from the nest, but little -pains appear to be taken with them. - -The _Redpole_ is rather a favourite bird among street-buyers, -especially where children are allowed to choose birds from a stock. -I am told that they most frequently select a goldfinch or a redpole. -These birds are supplied for about two months. About 800 or 1000 is -the extent of the take. The mortality and prices are the same as with -the goldfinch, but a goldfinch in high song is worth twice as much as -the best redpole. About a third of the sale of the redpole is in the -streets. - -There are also 150 or 200 _Black-caps_ sold annually in the open air, -at from 3_d._ to 5_d._ each. - - * * * * * - -These are the chief birds, then, that constitute the trade of the -streets, with the addition of an occasional yellow-hammer, wren, jay, -or even cuckoo. They also, with the addition of pigeons, form the stock -of the bird-shops. - -I have shown the number of birds caught, the number which survive for -sale, and the cost; and, as usual, under the head of “Statistics,” will -be shown the whole annual expenditure. This, however, is but a portion -of the London outlay on birds. There is, in addition, the cost of their -cages and of their daily food. The commonest and smallest cage costs -6_d._, a frequent price being 1_s._ A thrush’s basket-cage cannot be -bought, unless rubbish, under 2_s._ 6_d._ I have previously shown the -amount paid for the green food of birds, and for their turfs, &c., for -these are all branches of street-commerce. Of their other food, such as -rape and canary-seed, German paste, chopped eggs, biscuit, &c., I need -but intimate the extent by showing what birds will consume, as it is -not a portion of street-trade. - -A goldfinch, it has been proved by experimentalising ornithologists, -will consume _90_ grains, in weight, of canary-seed in 24 hours. A -greenfinch, for whose use 80 grains of wheat were weighed out, ate 79 -of them in 24 hours; and, on another occasion ate, in the same space -of time, 100 grains of a paste of eggs and flour. Sixteen canaries -consumed 100 grains’ weight of food, each bird, in 24 hours. The amount -of provision thus eaten was about one-sixth of the full weight of the -bird’s body, or an equivalent, were a man to swallow victuals in the -same proportion, of 25 lbs. in 24 hours. I may remark, moreover, that -the destruction of caterpillars, insects, worms, &c., by the small -birds, is enormous, especially during the infancy of their nestlings. -A pair of sparrows fed their brood 36 times an hour for 14 hours of a -long spring day, and, it was calculated, administered to them in one -week 3400 caterpillars. A pair of chaffinches, also, carried nearly as -great a number of caterpillars for the maintenance of their young. - - * * * * * - -The singing-birds sold in the street are offered either singly in small -cages, when the cage is sold with the bird, or they are displayed in -a little flock in a long cage, the buyer selecting any he prefers. -They always appear lively in the streets, or indeed a sale would be -hopeless, for no one would buy a dull or sick bird. The captives are -seen to hop and heard to chirp, but they are not often heard to sing -when thus offered to the public, and it requires some little attention -to judge what is but an impatient flutter, and what is the fruit of -mere hilarity. - -The places where the street-sellers more especially offer their birds -are--Smithfield, Clerkenwell-green, Lisson-grove, the City and New -roads, Shepherdess-walk, Old Street-road, Shoreditch, Spitalfields, -Whitechapel, Tower-hill, Ratcliffe-highway, Commercial-road -East, Poplar, Billingsgate, Westminster Broadway, Covent-garden, -Blackfriars-road, Bermondsey (mostly about Dock-head), and in the -neighbourhood of the Borough Market. The street-sellers are also -itinerant, carrying the birds in cages, holding them up to tempt -the notice of people whom they see at the windows, or calling at -the houses. The sale used to be very considerable in the “Cut” and -Lambeth-walk. Sometimes the cages with their inmates are fastened to -any contiguous rail; sometimes they are placed on a bench or stall; and -occasionally in cages on the ground. - -To say nothing, in this place, of the rogueries of the bird-trade, -I will proceed to show how the street-sold birds are frequently -inferior to those in the shops. The catcher, as I have stated, is also -the street-seller. He may reach the Dials, or whatever quarter the -dealer he supplies may reside in, with perhaps 30 linnets and as many -goldfinches. The dealer selects 24 of each, refusing the remaining -dozen, on account of their being hens, or hurt, or weakly birds. The -man then resorts to the street to effect a sale of that dozen, and -thus the streets have the refuse of the shops. On the other hand, -however, when the season is at its height, and the take of birds is -the largest, as at this time of year, the shops are “stocked.” The -cages and recesses are full, and the dealer’s anxiety is to sell before -he purchases more birds. The catchers proceed in their avocation; -they must dispose of their stock; the shopkeeper will not buy “at any -figure,” and so the streets are again resorted to, and in this way -fine birds are often sold very cheap. Both these liabilities prevail -the year through, but most in the summer, and keep up a sort of poise; -but I apprehend that the majority, perhaps the great majority, of the -street-sold birds, are of an inferior sort, but then the price is much -lower. On occasions when the bird-trade is overdone, the catchers will -sell a few squirrels, or gather snails for the shops. - -The buyers of singing-birds are eminently the working people, along -with the class of tradesmen whose means and disposition are of the -same character as those of the artisan. Grooms and coachmen are -frequently fond of birds; many are kept in the several mews, and -often the larger singing-birds, such as blackbirds and thrushes. -The fondness of a whole body of artificers for any particular bird, -animal, or flower, is remarkable. No better instance need be cited -than that of the Spitalfields weavers. In the days of their prosperity -they were the cultivators of choice tulips, afterwards, though not -in so full a degree, of dahlias, and their pigeons were the best -“fliers” in England. These things were accomplished with little cost, -comparatively, for the weavers were engaged in tasks, grateful and -natural to their tastes and habitudes; and what was expense in the -garden or aviary of the rich, was an exercise of skill and industry -on the part of the silk-weaver. The humanising and even refining -influence of such pursuits is very great, and as regards these pure -pleasures it is not seldom that the refinement which can appreciate -them has proceeded not to but _from_ the artisans. The operatives have -often been in the van of those who have led the public taste from -delighting in the cruelty and barbarity of bear and bull-baiting and -of cock-fighting--among the worst of all possible schools, and very -influential those schools were--to the delight in some of the most -beautiful works of nature. It is easy to picture the difference of -mood between a man going home from a dog-fight at night, or going home -from a visit to his flowers, or from an examination to satisfy himself -that his birds were “all right.” The families of the two men felt the -difference. Many of the rich appear to remain mere savages in their -tastes and sports. Battues, lion and hippopotamus hunting, &c.,--all -are mere civilized barbarisms. When shall we learn, as Wordsworth says, - - “Never to blend our pleasure or our pride - With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.” - -But the change in Spitalfields is great. Since the prevalence of low -wages the weaver’s garden has disappeared, and his pigeon-cote, even if -its timbers have not rotted away, is no longer stocked with carriers, -dragoons, horsemen, jacobins, monks, poulters, turtles, tumblers, -fantails, and the many varieties of what is in itself a variety--the -fancy-pigeon. A thrush, or a linnet, may still sing to the clatter of -the loom, but that is all. The culture of the tulip, the dahlia, and -(sometimes) of the fuchsia, was attended, as I have said, with small -cost, still it _was_ cost, and the weaver, as wages grew lower, could -not afford either the outlay or the loss of time. To cultivate flowers, -or rear doves, so as to make them a means of subsistence, requires -a man’s whole time, and to such things the Spitalfields man did not -devote his time, but his leisure. - -The readers who have perused this work from its first appearance -will have noticed how frequently I have had to comment on the always -realized indication of good conduct, and of a superior taste and -generally a superior intelligence, when I have found the rooms -of working people contain flowers and birds. I could adduce many -instances. I have seen and heard birds in the rooms of tailors, -shoemakers, coopers, cabinet-makers, hatters, dressmakers, curriers, -and street-sellers,--all people of the best class. One of the most -striking, indeed, was the room of a street-confectioner. His family -attended to the sale of the sweets, and he was greatly occupied at -home in their manufacture, and worked away at his peppermint-rock, in -the very heart of one of the thickliest populated parts of London, -surrounded by the song of thrushes, linnets, and goldfinches, all kept, -not for profit, but because he “loved” to have them about him. I have -seldom met a man who impressed me more favourably. - -The flowers in the room are more attributable to the superintending -taste of a wife or daughter, and are found in the apartments of the -same class of people. - -There is a marked difference between the buyers or keepers of birds -and of dogs in the working classes, especially when the dog is of a -sporting or “varmint” sort. Such a dog-keeper is often abroad and so -his home becomes neglected; he is interested about rat-hunts, knows -the odds on or against the dog’s chance to dispatch his rats in the -time allotted, loses much time and customers, his employers grumbling -that the work is so slowly executed, and so custom or work falls off. -The bird-lover, on the other hand, is generally a more domestic, and, -perhaps consequently, a more prosperous and contented man. It is -curious to mark the refining qualities of particular trades. I do not -remember seeing a bull-dog in the possession of any of the Spitalfields -silk-weavers: with them all was flowers and birds. The same I observed -with the tailors and other kindred occupations. With slaughterers, -however, and drovers, and Billingsgatemen, and coachmen, and cabmen, -whose callings naturally tend to blunt the sympathy with suffering, the -gentler tastes are comparatively unknown. The dogs are almost all of -the “varmint” kind, kept either for rat-killing, fighting, or else for -their ugliness. For “pet” or “fancy” dogs they have no feeling, and in -singing birds they find little or no delight. - - -OF THE BIRD-CATCHERS WHO ARE STREET-SELLERS. - -The street-sellers of birds are called by themselves “hawkers,” and -sometimes “bird hawkers.” - -Among the bird-catchers I did not hear of any very prominent -characters at present, three of the best known and most prominent -having died within these ten months. I found among all I saw the -vagrant characteristics I have mentioned, and often united with a -quietness of speech and manner which might surprise those who do not -know that any pursuit which entails frequent silence, watchfulness, -and solitude, forms such manners. Perhaps the man most talked of by -his fellow-labourers, was Old Gilham, who died lately. Gilham was his -real name, for among the bird-catchers there is not that prevalence -of nicknames which I found among the costermongers and patterers. One -reason no doubt is, that these bird-folk do not meet regularly in the -markets. It is rarely, however, that they know each other’s surnames, -Old Gilham being an exception. It is Old Tom, or Young Mick, or Jack, -or Dick, among them. I heard of no John or Richard. - -For 60 years, almost without intermission, Old Gilham caught birds. -I am assured that to state that his “catch” during this long period -averaged 100 a week, hens included, is within the mark, for he was a -most indefatigable man; even at that computation, however, he would -have been the captor, in his lifetime, of three hundred and twelve -thousand birds! A bird-catcher who used sometimes to start in the -morning with Old Gilham, and walk with him until their roads diverged, -told me that of late years the old man’s talk was a good deal of where -he had captured his birds in the old times: “‘Why, Ned,’ he would say -to me, proceeded his companion, ‘I’ve catched goldfinches in lots at -Chalk Farm, and all where there’s that railway smoke and noise just by -the hill (Primrose Hill). I can’t think where they’ll drive all the -birds to by and bye. I dare say the first time the birds saw a railway -with its smoke, and noise to frighten them, and all the fire too, they -just thought it was the devil was come.’ He wasn’t a fool, wasn’t old -Gilham, sir. ‘Why,’ he’d go on for to say, ‘I’ve laid many a day at -Ball’s Pond there, where it’s nothing but a lot of houses now, and -catched hundreds of birds. And I’ve catched them where there’s all -them grand squares Pimlico way, and in Britannia Fields, and at White -Condic. What with all these buildings, and them barbers, I don’t know -what the bird-trade’ll come to. It’s hard for a poor man to have to go -to Finchley for birds that he could have catched at Holloway once, but -people never thinks of that. When I were young I could make three times -as much as I do now. I’ve got a pound for a good sound chaffinch as I -brought up myself.’ Ah, poor old Gilham, sir; I wish you could have -seen him, he’d have told you of some queer changes in his time.” - -A shopkeeper informed me that a bird-catcher had talked to him of -even “queerer” changes. This man died eight or ten years ago at an -advanced age, but beyond the fact of his offering birds occasionally -at my informant’s shop, where he was known merely as “the old man,” he -could tell me nothing of the ancient bird-catcher, except that he was -very fond of a talk, and used to tell how he had catched birds between -fifty and sixty years, and had often, when a lad, catched them where -many a dock in London now stands. “Where there’s many a big ship now in -deep water, I’ve catched flocks of birds. I never catched birds to be -sure at them docks,” he would add, “as was dug out of the houses. Why, -master, you’ll remember their pulling down St. Katherine’s Church, and -all them rummy streets the t’other side of the Tower, for a dock.” As I -find that the first dock constructed on the north side of the Thames, -the West India dock, was not commenced until the year 1800, there -seems no reason to discredit the bird-catcher’s statement. Among other -classes of street-sellers I have had to remark the little observation -they extended to the changes all around, such as the extension of -street-traffic to miles and miles of suburbs, unknown till recently. -Two thousand miles of houses have been built in London within the last -20 years. But with the bird-catchers this want of observance is not so -marked. Of necessity they must notice the changes which have added to -the fatigues and difficulties of their calling, by compelling them, -literally, to “go further a-field.” - -A young man, rather tall, and evidently active, but very thin, gave -me the following account. His manners were quiet and his voice low. -His dress could not so well be called mean as hard worn, with the -unmistakable look of much of the attire of his class, that it was not -made for the wearer; his surtout, for instance, which was fastened -in front by two buttons, reached down to his ancles, and could have -inclosed a bigger man. He resided in St. Luke’s, in which parish there -are more bird-catchers living than in any other. The furniture of his -room was very simple. A heavy old sofa, in the well of which was a bed, -a table, two chairs, a fender, a small closet containing a few pots -and tins, and some twenty empty bird-cages of different sizes hung -against the walls. In a sort of wooden loft, which had originally been -constructed, he believed, for the breeding of fancy-pigeons, and which -was erected on the roof, were about a dozen or two of cages, some old -and broken, and in them a few live goldfinches, which hopped about very -merrily. They were all this year’s birds, and my informant, who had “a -little connection of his own,” was rearing them in hopes they would -turn out good specs, quite “birds beyond the run of the streets.” The -place and the cages, each bird having its own little cage, were very -clean, but at the time of my visit the loft was exceedingly hot, as the -day was one of the sultriest. Lest this heat should prove too great for -the finches, the timbers on all sides were well wetted and re-wetted at -intervals, for about an hour at noon, at which time only was the sun -full on the loft. - -“I shall soon have more birds, sir,” he said, “but you see I only -put aside here such as are the very best of the take; all cocks, of -course. O, I’ve been in the trade all my life; I’ve had a turn at other -things, certainly, but this life suits me best, I think, because I have -my health best in it. My father--he’s been dead a goodish bit--was a -bird-catcher as well, and he used to take me out with him as soon as I -was strong enough; when I was about ten, I suppose. I don’t remember -my mother. Father was brought up to brick-making. I believe that most -of the bird-catchers that have been trades, and that’s not half a -quarter perhaps, were brick-makers, or something that way. Well, I -don’t know the reason. The brick-making was, in my father’s young days, -carried on more in the country, and the bird-catchers used to fall in -with the brick-makers, and so perhaps that led to it. I’ve heard my -father tell of an old soldier that had been discharged with a pension -being the luckiest bird-catcher he knowed. The soldier was a catcher -before he first listed, and he listed drunk. I once--yes, sir, I dare -say that’s fifteen year back, for I was quite a lad--walked with my -father and captain” (the pensioner’s sobriquet) “till they parted for -work, and I remember very well I heard him tell how, when on march -in Portingal--I think that’s what he called it, but it’s in foreign -parts--he saw flocks of birds; he wished he could be after catching -them, for he was well tired of sogering. I was sent to school twice or -thrice, and can read a little and write a little; and I should like -reading better if I could manage it better. I read a penny number, -or the ‘police’ in a newspaper, now and then, but very seldom. But on -a fine day I hated being at school. I wanted to be at work, to make -something at bird-catching. If a boy can make money, why shouldn’t he? -And if I’d had a net, or cage, and a mule of my own, then, I thought, -I could make money.” [I may observe that the mule longed for by my -informant was a “cross” between two birds, and was wanted for the -decoy. Some bird-catchers contend that a mule makes the best call-bird -of any; others that the natural note of a linnet, for instance, was -more alluring than the song of a mule between a linnet and a goldfinch. -One birdman told me that the excellence of a mule was, that it had been -bred and taught by its master, had never been at large, and was “better -to manage;” it was bolder, too, in a cage, and its notes were often -loud and ringing, and might be heard to a considerable distance.] - -“I couldn’t stick to school, sir,” my informant continued, “and I don’t -know why, lest it be that one man’s best suited for one business, and -another for another. That may be seen every day. I was sent on trial -to a shoemaker, and after that to a ropemaker, for father didn’t seem -to like my growing up and being a bird-catcher, like he was. But I -never felt well, and knew I should never be any great hand at them -trades, and so when my poor father went off rather sudden, I took to -the catching at once and had all his traps. Perhaps, but I can’t say to -a niceness, that was eleven year back. Do I like the business, do you -say, sir? Well, I’m forced to like it, for I’ve no other to live by.” -[The reader will have remarked how this man attributed the course he -pursued, evidently from natural inclination, to its being the best and -most healthful means of subsistence in his power.] “Last Monday, for my -dealers like birds on a Monday or Tuesday best, and then they’ve the -week before them,--I went to catch in the fields this side of Barnet, -and started before two in the morning, when it was neither light nor -dark. You must get to your place before daylight to be ready for the -first flight, and have time to lay your net properly. When I’d done -that, I lay down and smoked. No, smoke don’t scare the birds; I think -they’re rather drawn to notice anything new, if all’s quite quiet. -Well, the first pull I had about 90 birds, nearly all linnets. There -was, as well as I can remember, three hedge-sparrows among them, and -two larks, and one or two other birds. Yes, there’s always a terrible -flutter and row when you make a catch, and often regular fights in the -net. I then sorted my birds, and let the hens go, for I didn’t want -to be bothered with them. I might let such a thing as 35 hens go out -of rather more than an 80 take, for I’ve always found, in catching -young broods, that I’ve drawn more cocks than hens. How do I know the -difference when the birds are so young? As easy as light from dark. -You must lift up the wing, quite tender, and you’ll find that a cock -linnet has black, or nearly black, feathers on his shoulder, where -the hens are a deal lighter. Then the cock has a broader and whiter -stripe on the wing than the hen has. It’s quite easy to distinguish, -quite. A cock goldfinch is straighter and more larger in general than a -hen, and has a broader white on his wing, as the cock linnet has; he’s -black round the beak and the eye too, and a hen’s greenish thereabouts. -There’s some gray-pates (young birds) would deceive any one until he -opens their wings. Well, I went on, sir, until about one o’clock, or -a little after, as well as I could tell from the sun, and then came -away with about 100 singing birds. I sold them in the lump to three -shopkeepers at 2_s._ 2_d._ and 2_s._ 6_d._ the dozen. That was a good -day, sir; a very lucky day. I got about 17_s._, the best I ever did but -once, when I made 19_s._ in a day. - -“Yes, it’s hard work is mine, because there’s such a long walking home -when you’ve done catching. O, when you’re at work it’s not work but -almost a pleasure. I’ve laid for hours though, without a catch. I smoke -to pass the time when I’m watching; sometimes I read a bit if I’ve had -anything to take with me to read; then at other times I thinks. If you -don’t get a catch for hours, it’s only like an angler without a nibble. -O, I don’t know what I think about; about nothing, perhaps. Yes, I’ve -had a friend or two go out catching with me just for the amusement. -They must lie about and wait as I do. We have a little talk of course: -well, perhaps about sporting; no, not horse-racing, I care nothing -for that, but it’s hardly business taking any one with you. I supply -the dealers and hawk as well. Perhaps I make 12_s._ a week the year -through. Some weeks I’ve made between 3_l._ and 4_l._, and in winter, -when there’s rain every day, perhaps I haven’t cleared a penny in a -fortnight. That’s the worst of it. But I make more than others because -I have a connection and raise good birds. - -“Sometimes I’m stopped by the farmers when I’m at work, but not often, -though there is some of ’em very obstinate. It’s no use, for if a -catcher’s net has to be taken from one part of a farm, after he’s had -the trouble of laying it, why it must be laid in another part. Some -country people likes to have their birds catched.” - -My informant supplied shopkeepers and hawked his birds in the streets -and to the houses. He had a connection, he said, and could generally -get through them, but he had sometimes put a bird or two in a fancy -house. These are the public-houses resorted to by “the fancy,” in some -of which may be seen two or three dozen singing-birds for sale on -commission, through the agency of the landlord or the waiter. They are -the property of hawkers or dealers, and must be good birds, or they -will not be admitted. - -The number of birds caught, and the proportion sold in the streets, -I have already stated. The number of bird-catchers, I may repeat, is -about the same as that of street bird-sellers, 200. - - -OF THE CRIPPLED STREET BIRD-SELLER. - -From the bird-seller whose portrait will be given in the next number -of this work I have received the following account. The statement -previously given was that of a catcher and street-seller, as are the -great majority in the trade; the following narrative is that of one -who, from his infirmities, is merely a street-_seller_. - -[Illustration: THE CRIPPLED STREET BIRD-SELLER. - -[_From a Daguerreotype by_ BEARD.]] - -The poor man’s deformity may be best understood by describing it in his -own words: “I have no ancle.” His right leg is emaciated, the bone is -smaller than that of his other leg (which is not deformed), and there -is no ancle joint. The joints of the wrists and shoulders are also -defective, though not utterly wanting, as in the ancle. In walking -this poor cripple seems to advance by means of a series of jerks. He -uses his deformed leg, but must tread, or rather support his body, -on the ball of the misformed foot, while he advances his sound leg; -then, with a twist of his body, after he has advanced and stands upon -his undeformed leg and foot, he throws forward the crippled part of -his frame by the jerk I have spoken of. His arms are usually pressed -against his ribs as he walks, and convey to a spectator the notion -that he is unable to raise them from that position. This, however, is -not the case; he can raise them, not as a sound man does, but with an -effort and a contortion of his body to humour the effort. His speech -is also defective, his words being brought out, as it were, by jerks; -he has to prepare himself, and to throw up his chin, in order to -converse, and then he speaks with difficulty. His face is sun-burnt and -healthy-looking. His dress was a fustian coat with full skirts, cloth -trowsers somewhat patched, and a clean coarse shirt. His right shoe was -suited to his deformity, and was strapped with a sort of leather belt -round the lower part of the leg. - -A considerable number of book-stall keepers, as well as costermongers, -swag-barrowmen, ginger-beer and lemonade sellers, orange-women, -sweet-stuff vendors, root-sellers, and others, have established their -pitches--some of them having stalls with a cover, like a roof--from -Whitechapel workhouse to the Mile End turnpike-gate; near the gate they -are congregated most thickly, and there they are mixed with persons -seated on the forms belonging to adjacent innkeepers, which are placed -there to allow any one to have his beer and tobacco in the open air. -Among these street-sellers and beer-drinkers is seated the crippled -bird-seller, generally motionless. - -His home is near the Jews’ burial-ground, and in one of the many -“places” which by a misnomer, occasioned by the change in the -character and appearance of what _were_ the outskirts, are still -called “Pleasant.” On seeking him here, I had some little difficulty -in finding the house, and asking a string of men, who were chopping -fire-wood in an adjoining court, for the man I wanted, mentioning -his name, no one knew anything about him; though when I spoke of his -calling, “O,” they said, “you want Old Billy.” I then found Billy at -his accustomed pitch, with a very small stock of birds in two large -cages on the ground beside him, and he accompanied me to his residence. -The room in which we sat had a pile of fire-wood opposite the door; -the iron of the upper part of the door-latch being wanting was -replaced by a piece of wood--and on the pile sat a tame jackdaw, with -the inquisitive and askant look peculiar to the bird. Above the pile -was a large cage, containing a jay--a bird seldom sold in the streets -now--and a thrush, in different compartments. A table, three chairs, -and a hamper or two used in the wood-cutting, completed the furniture. -Outside the house were cages containing larks, goldfinches, and a very -fine starling, of whose promising abilities the bird-seller’s sister -had so favourable an opinion that she intended to try and teach it to -talk, although that was very seldom done now. - -The following is the statement I obtained from the poor fellow. The -man’s sister was present at his desire, as he was afraid I could not -understand him, owing to the indistinctness of his speech; but that was -easy enough, after awhile, with a little patience and attention. - -“I was born a cripple, sir,” he said, “and I shall die one. I was born -at Lewisham, but I don’t remember living in any place but London. I -remember being at Stroud though, where my father had taken me, and -bathed me often in the sea himself, thinking it might do me good. I’ve -heard him say, too, that when I was very young he took me to almost -every hospital in London, but it was of no use. My father and mother -were as kind to me and as good parents as could be. He’s been dead -nineteen years, and my mother died before him. Father was very poor, -almost as poor as I am. He worked in a brick-field, but work weren’t -regular. I couldn’t walk at all until I was six years old, and I was -between nine and ten before I could get up and down stairs by myself. -I used to slide down before, as well as I could, and had to be carried -up. When I could get about and went among other boys, I was in great -distress, I was teased so. Life was a burthen to me, as I’ve read -something about. They used to taunt me by offering to jump me” (invite -him to a jumping match), “and to say, I’ll run you a race on one leg. -They were bad to me then, and they are now. I’ve sometimes sat down and -cried, but not often. No, sir, I can’t say that I ever wished I was -dead. I hardly know why I cried. I suppose because I was miserable. I -learned to read at a Sunday school, where I went a long time. I like -reading. I read the Bible and tracts, nothing else; never a newspaper. -It don’t come in my way, and if it did I shouldn’t look at it, for I -can’t read over well and it’s nothing to me who’s king or who’s queen. -It can never have anything to do with me. It don’t take my attention. -There’ll be no change for me in this world. When I was thirteen my -father put me into the bird trade. He knew a good many catchers. I’ve -been bird-selling in the streets for six-and-twenty years and more, -for I was 39 the 24th of last January. Father didn’t know what better -he could put me to, as I hadn’t the right use of my hands or feet, -and at first I did very well. I liked the birds and do still. I used -to think at first that they was like me; they was prisoners, and I -was a cripple. At first I sold birds in Poplar, and Limehouse, and -Blackwall, and was a help to my parents, for I cleared 9_s._ or 10_s._ -every week. But now, oh dear, I don’t know where all the money’s gone -to. I think there’s very little left in the country. I’ve sold larks, -linnets, and goldfinches, to captains of ships to take to the West -Indies. I’ve sold them, too, to go to Port Philip. O, and almost all -those foreign parts. They bring foreign birds here, and take back -London birds. I don’t know anything about foreign birds. I know there’s -men dressed as sailors going about selling them; they’re duffers--I -mean the men. There’s a neighbour of mine, that’s very likely never -been 20 miles out of London, and when he hawks birds he always dresses -like a countryman, and duffs that way. - -“When my father died,” continued the man, “I was completely upset; -everything in the world was upset. I was forced to go into the -workhouse, and I was there between four and five months. O, I hated -it. I’d rather live on a penny loaf a day than be in it again. I’ve -never been near the parish since, though I’ve often had nothing to -eat many a day. I’d rather be lamer than I am, and be oftener called -silly Billy--and that sometimes makes me dreadful wild--than be in the -workhouse. It was starvation, but then I know I’m a hearty eater, very -hearty. Just now I know I could eat a shilling plate of meat, but for -all that I very seldom taste meat. I live on bread and butter and tea, -sometimes bread without butter. When I have it I eat a quartern loaf -at three meals. It depends upon how I’m off. My health’s good. I never -feel in any pain now; I did when I first got to walk, in great pain. -Beer I often don’t taste once in two or three months, and this very hot -weather one can’t help longing for a drop, when you see people drinking -it all sides of you, but they have the use of their limbs.” [Here two -little girls and a boy rushed into the room, for they had but to open -the door from the outside, and, evidently to tease the poor fellow, -loudly demanded “a ha’penny bird.” When the sister had driven them -away, my informant continued.] “I’m still greatly teased, sir, with -children; yes, and with men too, both when they’re drunk and sober. -I think grown persons are the worst. They swear and use bad language -to me. I’m sure I don’t know why. I know no name they call me by in -particular when I’m teased, if it isn’t ‘Old Hypocrite.’ I can’t say -why they call me ‘hypocrite.’ I suppose because they know no better. -Yes, I think I’m religious, rather. I would be more so, if I had -clothes. I get to chapel sometimes.” [A resident near the bird-seller’s -pitch, with whom I had some conversation, told me of “Billy” being -sometimes teased in the way described. Some years ago, he believed it -was at Limehouse, my informant heard a gentlemanly-looking man, tipsy, -d--n the street bird-seller for Mr. _Hobbler_, and bid him go to the -Mansion House, or to h--l. I asked the cripple about this, but he had -no recollection of it; and, as he evidently did not understand the -allusion to Mr. Hobbler, I was not surprised at his forgetfulness.] - -“I like to sit out in the sunshine selling my birds,” he said. “If it’s -rainy, and I can’t go out, because it would be of no use, I’m moped to -death. I stay at home and read a little; or I chop a little fire-wood, -but you may be very sure, sir, its little I can do that way. I never -associate with the neighbours. I never had any pleasure, such as going -to a fair, or like that. I don’t remember having ever spent a penny in -a place of amusement in my life. Yes, I’ve often sat all day in the -sun, and of course a deal of thoughts goes through my head. I think, -shall I be able to afford myself plenty of bread when I get home? And -I think of the next world sometimes, and feel quite sure, quite, that -I shan’t be a cripple there. Yes, that’s a comfort, for this world -will never be any good to me. I feel that I shall be a poor starving -cripple, till I end, perhaps, in the workhouse. Other poor men can -get married, but not such as me. But I never was in love in my life, -never.” [Among the vagrants and beggars, I may observe, there are men -more terribly deformed than the bird-seller, who are married, or living -in concubinage.] “Yes, sir,” he proceeded, “I’m quite reconciled to my -lameness, quite; and have been for years. O, no, I never fret about -that now; but about starving, perhaps, and the workhouse. - -“Before father died, the parish allowed us 1_s._ 6_d._ and a quartern -loaf a week; but after he was buried, they’d allow me nothing; they’d -only admit me into the house. I hadn’t a penny allowed to me when I -discharged myself and came out. I hardly know how ever I _did_ manage -to get a start again with the birds. I knew a good many catchers, and -they trusted me. Yes, they was all poor men. I did pretty tidy by bits, -but only when it was fine weather, until these five years or so, when -things got terrible bad. Particularly just the two last years with -me. Do you think times are likely to mend, sir, with poor people? If -working-men had only money, they’d buy innocent things like birds to -amuse them at home; but if they can’t get the money, as I’ve heard them -say when they’ve been pricing my stock, why in course they can’t spend -it.” - -“Yes, indeed,” said the sister, “trade’s very bad. Where my husband and -I once earned 18_s._ at the fire-wood, and then 15_s._, we can’t now -earn 12_s._ the two of us, slave as hard as we will. I always dread the -winter a-coming. Though there may be more fire-wood wanted, there’s -greater expenses, and it’s a terrible time for such as us.” - -“I dream sometimes, sir,” the cripple resumed in answer to my question, -“but not often. I often have more than once dreamed I was starving and -dying of hunger. I remember that, for I woke in a tremble. But most -dreams is soon forgot. I’ve never seemed to myself to be a cripple in -my dreams. Well, I can’t explain how, but I feel as if my limbs was -all free like--so beautiful. I dream most about starving I think, than -about anything else. Perhaps that’s when I have to go to sleep hungry. -I sleep very well, though, take it altogether. If I had only plenty to -live upon there would be nobody happier. I’m happy enough when times -is middling with me, only one feels it won’t last. I like a joke as -well as anybody when times is good; but that’s been very seldom lately. - -“It’s all small birds I sell in the street now, except at a very odd -time. That jackdaw there, sir, he’s a very fine bird. I’ve tamed him -myself, and he’s as tame as a dog. My sister’s a very good hand among -birds, and helps me. She once taught a linnet to say ‘Joey’ as plain -as you can speak it yourself, sir. I buy birds of different catchers, -but haven’t money to buy the better kinds, as I have to sell at 3_d._, -and 4_d._, and 6_d._ mostly. If I had a pound to lay out in a few nice -cages and good birds, I think I could do middling, this fine weather -particler, for I’m a very good judge of birds, and know how to manage -them as well as anybody. Then birds is rather dearer to buy than they -was when I was first in the trade. The catchers have to go further, -and I’m afeared the birds is getting scarcer, and so there’s more time -taken up. I buy of several catchers. The last whole day that I was at -my pitch I sold nine birds, and took about 3_s._ If I could buy birds -ever so cheap, there’s always such losses by their dying. I’ve had -three parts of my young linnets die, do what I might, but not often so -many. Then if they die all the food they’ve had is lost. There goes -all for nothing the rape and flax-seed for your linnets, canary and -flax for your goldfinches, chopped eggs for your nightingales, and -German paste for your sky-larks. I’ve made my own German paste when -I’ve wanted a sufficient quantity. It’s made of pea-meal, treacle, -hog’s-lard, and moss-seed. I sell more goldfinches than anything else. -I used to sell a good many sparrows for shooting, but I haven’t done -anything that way these eight or nine years. It’s a fash’nable sport -still, I hear. I’ve reared nightingales that sung beautiful, and have -sold them at 4_s._ a piece, which was very cheap. They often die when -the time for their departure comes. A shopkeeper as supplied such -as I’ve sold would have charged 1_l._ a piece for them. One of my -favouritest birds is redpoles, but they’re only sold in the season. -I think it’s one of the most knowingest little birds that is; more -knowing than the goldfinch, in my opinion. - -“My customers are all working people, all of them. I sell to nobody -else; I make 4_s._ or 5_s._; I call 5_s._ a good week at this time -of year, when the weather suits. I lodge with a married sister; her -husband’s a wood-chopper, and I pay 1_s._ 6_d._ a week, which is cheap, -for I’ve no sticks of my own. If I earn 4_s._ there’s only 2_s._ 6_d._ -left to live on the week through. In winter, when I can make next to -nothing, and must keep my birds, it is terrible--oh yes, sir, if you -believe me, terrible!” - - -OF THE TRICKS OF THE BIRD-DUFFERS. - -The tricks practised by the bird-sellers are frequent and systematic. -The other day a man connected with the bird-trade had to visit -Holloway, the City, and Bermondsey. In Holloway he saw six men, some -of whom he recognised as regular bird-catchers and street-sellers, -offering sham birds; in the City he found twelve; and in Bermondsey -six, as well as he could depend upon his memory. These, he thought, -did not constitute more than a half of the number now at work as -bird-“duffers,” not including the sellers of foreign birds. In the -summer, indeed, the duffers are most numerous, for birds are cheapest -then, and these tricksters, to economise time, I presume, buy of other -catchers any cheap hens suited to their purpose. Some of them, I am -told, never catch their birds at all, but purchase them. - -The greenfinch is the bird on which these men’s art is most commonly -practised, its light-coloured plumage suiting it to their purposes. I -have heard these people styled “bird-swindlers,” but by street-traders -I heard them called “bird-duffers,” yet there appears to be no very -distinctive name for them. They are nearly all men, as is the case in -the bird trade generally, although the wives may occasionally assist -in the street-sale. The means of deception, as regards the greenfinch -especially, are from paint. One aim of these artists is to make their -finch resemble some curious foreign bird, “not often to be sold so -cheap, or to be sold at all in this country.” They study the birds in -the window of the naturalists’ shops for this purpose. Sometimes they -declare these painted birds are young Java sparrows (at one time “a -fashionable bird”), or St. Helena birds, or French or Italian finches. -They sometimes get 5_s._ for such a “duffing bird;” one man has been -known to boast that he once got a sovereign. I am told, however, by a -bird-catcher who had himself supplied birds to these men for duffing, -that they complained of the trade growing worse and worse. - -It is usually a hen which is painted, for the hen is by far the -cheapest purchase, and while the poor thing is being offered for sale -by the duffers, she has an unlimited supply of hemp-seed, without -other food, and hemp-seed beyond a proper quantity, is a very strong -stimulus. This makes the hen look brisk and bold, but if newly caught, -as is usually the case, she will perhaps be found dead next morning. -The duffer will object to his bird being handled on account of its -timidity; “but it is timid only with strangers!” “When you’ve had -him a week, ma’am,” such a bird-seller will say, “you’ll find him as -lovesome and tame as can be.” One jealous lady, when asked 5_s._ for -a “very fine Italian finch, an excellent singer,” refused to buy, but -offered a deposit of 2_s._ 6_d._, if the man would leave his bird and -cage, for the trial of the bird’s song, for two or three days. The -duffer agreed; and was bold enough to call on the third day to hear -the result. The bird was dead, and after murmuring a little at the -lady’s mismanagement, and at the loss he had been subjected to, the -man brought away his cage. He boasted of this to a dealer’s assistant -who mentioned it to me, and expressed his conviction that it was true -enough. The paints used for the transformation of native birds into -foreign are bought at the colour-shops, and applied with camel-hair -brushes in the usual way. - -When canaries are “a bad colour,” or have grown a paler yellow -from age, they are re-dyed, by the application of a colour sold at -the colour-shops, and known as “the Queen’s yellow.” Blackbirds are -dyed a deeper black, the “grit” off a frying-pan being used for the -purpose. The same thing is done to heighten the gloss and blackness -of a jackdaw, I was told, by a man who acknowledged he had duffed a -little; “people liked a gay bright colour.” In the same way the tints -of the goldfinch are heightened by the application of paint. It is -common enough, moreover, for a man to paint the beaks and legs of the -birds. It is chiefly the smaller birds which are thus made the means of -cheating. - -Almost all the “duffing birds” are hawked. If a young hen be passed off -for a good singing bird, without being painted, as a cock in his second -singing year, she is “brisked up” with hemp-seed, is half tipsy in -fact, and so passed off deceitfully. As it is very rarely that even the -male birds will sing in the streets, this is often a successful ruse, -the bird appearing so lively. - -A dealer calculated for me, from his own knowledge, that 2000 small -birds were “duffed” yearly, at an average of from 2_s._ 6_d._ to 3_s._ -each. - -As yet I have only spoken of the “duffing” of English birds, but -similar tricks are practised with the foreign birds. - -In parrot-selling there is a good deal of “duffing.” The birds are -“painted up,” as I have described in the case of the greenfinches, &c. -Varnish is also used to render the colours brighter; the legs and beak -are frequently varnished. Sometimes a spot of red is introduced, for -as one of these duffers observed to a dealer in English birds, “the -more outlandish you make them look, the better’s the chance to sell.” -Sometimes there is little injury done by this paint and varnish, which -disappear gradually when the parrot is in the cage of a purchaser; -but in some instances when the bird picks himself where he has been -painted, he dies from the deleterious compound. Of this mortality, -however, there is nothing approaching that among the duffed small birds. - -Occasionally the duffers carry really fine cockatoos, &c., and if they -can obtain admittance into a lady’s house, to display the beauty of the -bird, they will pretend to be in possession of smuggled silk, &c., made -of course for duffing purposes. The bird-duffers are usually dressed as -seamen, and sometimes pretend they must sell the bird before the ship -sails, for a parting spree, or to get the poor thing a good home. This -trade, however, has from all that I can learn, and in the words of an -informant, “seen its best days.” There are now sometimes six men thus -engaged; sometimes none: and when one of these men is “hard up,” he -finds it difficult to start again in a business for which a capital of -about 1_l._ is necessary, as a cage is wanted generally. The duffers -buy the very lowest priced birds, and have been known to get 2_l._ -10_s._ for what cost but 8_s._, but that is a very rare occurrence, and -the men are very poor, and perhaps more dissipated than the generality -of street-sellers. Parrot duffing, moreover, is seldom carried on -regularly by any one, for he will often duff cigars and other things -in preference, or perhaps vend really smuggled and good cigars or -tobacco. Perhaps 150 parrots, paroquets, or cockatoos, are sold in this -way annually, at from 15_s._ to 1_l._ 10_s._ each, but hardly averaging -1_l._, as the duffer will sell, or raffle, the bird for a small sum if -he cannot dispose of it otherwise. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF FOREIGN BIRDS. - -This trade is curious, but far from extensive as regards street-sale. -There is, moreover, contrary to what might be expected, a good deal -of “duffing” about it. The “duffer” in English birds disguises them -so that they shall look like foreigners; the duffer in what are -unquestionably foreign birds disguises them that they may look _more_ -foreign--more Indian than in the Indies. - -The word “Duffer,” I may mention, appears to be connected with the -German _Durffen_, to want, to be needy, and so to mean literally -a needy or indigent man, even as the word _Pedlar_ has the same -origin--being derived from the German _Bettler_, and the Dutch -_Bedelaar_--a beggar. The verb _Durffen_, means also to dare, to be so -bold as to do; hence, to _Durff_, or _Duff_, would signify to resort to -any impudent trick. - -The supply of parrots, paroquets, cockatoos, Java sparrows, or St. -Helena birds, is not in the regular way of consignment from a merchant -abroad to one in London. The commanders and mates of merchant vessels -bring over large quantities; and often enough the seamen are allowed to -bring parrots or cockatoos in the homeward-bound ship from the Indies -or the African coast, or from other tropical countries, either to -beguile the tedium of the voyage, for presents to their friends, or, -as in some cases, for sale on their reaching an English port. More, I -am assured, although statistics are hardly possible on such a subject, -are brought to London, and perhaps by one-third, than to all the other -ports of Great Britain collectively. Even on board the vessels of the -royal navy, the importation of parrots used to be allowed as a sort -of boon to the seamen. I was told by an old naval officer that once, -after a long detention on the west coast of Africa, his ship was -ordered home, and, as an acknowledgment of the good behaviour of his -men, he permitted them to bring parrots, cockatoos, or any foreign -birds, home with them, not limiting the number, but of course under -the inspection of the petty officers, that there might be no violation -of the cleanliness which always distinguishes a vessel of war. Along -the African coast, to the southward of Sierra Leone, the men were not -allowed to land, both on account of the unhealthiness of the shores, -and of the surf, which rendered landing highly dangerous, a danger, -however, which the seamen would not have scrupled to brave, and -recklessly enough, for any impulse of the minute. As if by instinct, -however, the natives seemed to know what was wanted, for they came off -from the shores in their light canoes, which danced like feathers on -the surf, and brought boat-loads of birds; these the seamen bought of -them, or possessed themselves of in the way of barter. - -Before the ship took her final departure, however, she was reported -as utterly uninhabitable below, from the incessant din and clamour: -“We might as well have a pack of women aboard, sir,” was the ungallant -remark of one of the petty officers to his commander. Orders were then -given that the parrots, &c., should be “thinned,” so that there might -not be such an unceasing noise. This was accordingly done. How many -were set at liberty and made for the shore--for the seamen in this -instance did not kill them for their skins, as is not unfrequently -the case--the commander did not know. He could but conjecture; and he -conjectured that something like a thousand were released; and even -after that, and after the mortality which takes place among these birds -in the course of a long voyage, a very great number were brought to -Plymouth. Of these, again, a great number were sent or conveyed under -the care of the sailors to London, when the ship was paid off. The -same officer endeavoured on this voyage to bring home some very large -pine-apples, which flavoured, and most deliciously, parts of the ship -when she had been a long time at sea; but every one of them rotted, and -had to be thrown overboard. He fell into the error, Captain ---- said, -of having the finest fruit selected for the experiment; an error which -the Bahama merchants had avoided, and consequently they succeeded where -he failed. How the sailors fed the parrots, my informant could hardly -guess, but they brought a number of very fine birds to England, some of -them with well-cultivated powers of speech. - -This, as I shall show, is one of the ways by which the London supply of -parrots, &c., is obtained; but the permission, as to the importation -of these brightly-feathered birds, is, I understand, rarely allowed -at present to the seamen in the royal navy. The far greater supply, -indeed more than 90 per cent. of the whole of the birds imported, is -from the merchant-service. I have already stated, on the very best -authority, the motives which induce merchant-seamen to bring over -parrots and cockatoos. That to bring them over is an inducement to some -to engage in an African voyage is shown by the following statement, -which was made to me, in the course of a long inquiry, published in my -letters in the _Morning Chronicle_, concerning the condition of the -merchant-seamen. - -“I would never go to that African coast again, only I make a pound or -two in birds. We buy parrots, gray parrots chiefly, of the natives, -who come aboard in their canoes. We sometimes pay 6_s._ or 7_s._, in -Africa, for a fine bird. I have known 200 parrots on board; they make a -precious noise; but half the birds die before they get to England. Some -captains won’t allow parrots.” - -When the seamen have settled themselves after landing in England, -they perhaps find that there is no room in their boarding-houses for -their parrots; these birds are not admitted into the Sailors’ Home; -the seamen’s friends are stocked with the birds, and look upon another -parrot as but another intruder, an unwelcome pensioner. There remains -but one course--to sell the birds, and they are generally sold to a -highly respectable man, Mr. M. Samuel, of Upper East Smithfield; and -it is from him, though not always directly, that the shopkeepers and -street-sellers derive their stock-in-trade. There is also a further -motive for the disposal of parrots, paroquets, and cockatoos to a -merchant. The seafaring owner of those really magnificent birds, -perhaps, squanders his money, perhaps he gets “skinned” (stripped of -his clothes and money from being hocussed, or tempted to helpless -drunkenness), or he chooses to sell them, and he or his boarding-house -keeper takes the birds to Mr. Samuel, and sells them for what he can -get; but I heard from three very intelligent seamen whom I met with in -the course of my inquiry, and by mere chance, that Mr. Samuel’s price -was fair and his money sure, considering everything, for there is -usually a qualification to every praise. It is certainly surprising, -under these circumstances, that such numbers of these birds should thus -be disposed of. - -Parrots are as gladly, or more gladly, got rid of, in any manner, in -different regions in the continents of Asia and America, than with -us are even rats from a granary. Dr. Stanley, after speaking of the -beauty of a flight of parrots, says:--“The husbandman who sees them -hastening through the air, with loud and impatient screams, looks upon -them with dismay and detestation, knowing that the produce of his -labour and industry is in jeopardy, when visited by such a voracious -multitude of pilferers, who, like the locusts of Egypt, desolate whole -tracts of country by their unsparing ravages.” A contrast with their -harmlessness, in a gilded cage in the houses of the wealthy, with us! -The destructiveness of these birds, is then, one reason why seamen can -obtain them so readily and cheaply, for the natives take pleasure in -catching them; while as to plentifulness, the tropical regions teem -with bird, as with insect and reptile, life. - -Of parrots, paroquets, and cockatoos, there are 3000 imported to London -in the way I have described, and in about equal proportions. They are -sold, wholesale, from 5_s._ to 30_s._ each. - -There are now only three men selling these brilliant birds regularly in -the streets, and in the fair way of trade; but there are sometimes as -many as 18 so engaged. The price given by a hawker for a cockatoo, &c., -is 8_s._ or 10_s._, and they are retailed at from 15_s._ to 30_s._, -or more, “if it can be got.” The purchasers are the wealthier classes -who can afford to indulge their tastes. Of late years, however, I am -told, a parrot or a cockatoo seems to be considered indispensable to -an inn (not a gin-palace), and the innkeepers have been among the best -customers of the street parrot-sellers. In the neighbourhood of the -docks, and indeed along the whole river side below London-bridge, it -is almost impossible for a street-seller to dispose of a parrot to an -innkeeper, or indeed to any one, as they are supplied by the seamen. -A parrot which has been taught to talk is worth from 4_l._ to 10_l._, -according to its proficiency in speech. About 500 of these birds are -sold yearly by the street-hawkers, at an outlay to the public of from -500_l._ to 600_l._ - -Java sparrows, from the East Indies, and from the Islands of the -Archipelago, are brought to London, but considerable quantities die -during the voyage and in this country; for, though hardy enough, not -more than one in three survives being “taken off the paddy seed.” About -10,000, however, are sold annually, in London, at 1_s._ 6_d._ each, but -a very small proportion by street-hawking, as the Java sparrows are -chiefly in demand for the aviaries of the rich in town and country. In -some years not above 100 may be sold in the streets; in others, as many -as 500. - -In St. Helena birds, known also as wax-bills and red-backs, there is -a trade to the same extent, both as regards number and price; but the -street-sale is perhaps 10 per cent. lower. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF BIRDS’-NESTS. - -The young gypsy-looking lad, who gave me the following account of the -sale of birds’-nests in the streets, was peculiarly picturesque in his -appearance. He wore a dirty-looking smock-frock with large pockets -at the side; he had no shirt; and his long black hair hung in curls -about him, contrasting strongly with his bare white neck and chest. -The broad-brimmed brown Italian-looking hat, broken in and ragged at -the top, threw a dark half-mask-like shadow over the upper part of his -face. His feet were bare and black with mud: he carried in one hand his -basket of nests, dotted with their many-coloured eggs; in the other he -held a live snake, that writhed and twisted as its metallic-looking -skin glistened in the sun; now over, and now round, the thick knotty -bough of a tree that he used for a stick. The portrait of the youth is -here given. I have never seen so picturesque a specimen of the English -nomads. He said, in answer to my inquiries:-- - -“I am a seller of birds’-nesties, snakes, slow-worms, adders, -‘effets’--lizards is their common name--hedgehogs (for killing black -beetles); frogs (for the French--they eats ’em); snails (for birds); -that’s all I sell in the summer-time. In the winter I get all kinds -of wild flowers and roots, primroses, ‘butter-cups’ and daisies, and -snow-drops, and ‘backing’ off of trees; (‘backing’ it’s called, because -it’s used to put at the back of nosegays, it’s got off the yew trees, -and is the green yew fern). I gather bulrushes in the summer-time, -besides what I told you; some buys bulrushes for stuffing; they’re the -fairy rushes the small ones, and the big ones is bulrushes. The small -ones is used for ‘stuffing,’ that is, for showing off the birds as is -stuffed, and make ’em seem as if they was alive in their cases, and -among the rushes; I sell them to the bird-stuffers at 1_d._ a dozen. -The big rushes the boys buys to play with and beat one another--on a -Sunday evening mostly. The birds’-nesties I get from 1_d._ to 3_d._ -a-piece for. I never have young birds, I can never sell ’em; you see -the young things generally dies of the cramp before you can get rid -of them. I sell the birds’-nesties in the streets; the threepenny -ones has six eggs, a half-penny a egg. The linnets has mostly four -eggs, they’re 4_d._ the nest; they’re for putting under canaries, and -being hatched by them. The thrushes has from four to five--five is -the most; they’re 2_d._; they’re merely for cur’osity--glass cases or -anything like that. Moor-hens, wot build on the moors, has from eight -to nine eggs, and is 1_d._ a-piece; they’re for hatching underneath a -bantam-fowl, the same as partridges. Chaffinches has five eggs; they’re -3_d._, and is for cur’osity. Hedge-sparrows, five eggs; they’re the -same price as the other, and is for cur’osity. The Bottletit--the -nest and the bough are always put in glass cases; it’s a long hanging -nest, like a bottle, with a hole about as big as a sixpence, and -there’s mostly as many as eighteen eggs; they’ve been known to lay -thirty-three. To the house-sparrow there is five eggs; they’re 1_d._ -The yellow-hammers, with five eggs, is 2_d._ The water-wagtails, with -four eggs, 2_d._ Blackbirds, with five eggs, 2_d._ The golden-crest -wren, with ten eggs--it has a very handsome nest--is 6_d._ Bulfinches, -four eggs, 1_s._; they’re for hatching, and the bulfinch is a very dear -bird. Crows, four eggs, 4_d._ Magpies, four eggs, 4_d._ Starlings, five -eggs, 3_d._ The egg-chats, five eggs, 2_d._ Goldfinches, five eggs, -6_d._, for hatching. Martins, five eggs, 3_d._ The swallow, four eggs, -6_d._; it’s so dear because the nest is such a cur’osity, they build up -again the house. The butcher-birds--hedge-murderers some calls them, -for the number of birds they kills--five eggs, 3_d._ The cuckoo--they -never has a nest, but lays in the hedge-sparrow’s; there’s only one egg -(it’s very rare you see the two, they has been got, but that’s seldom) -that is 4_d._, the egg is such a cur’osity. The greenfinches has four -or five eggs, and is 3_d._ The sparrer-hawk has four eggs, and they’re -6_d._ The reed-sparrow--they builds in the reeds close where the -bulrushes grow; they has four eggs, and is 2_d._ The wood-pigeon has -two eggs, and they’re 4_d._ The horned owl, four eggs; they’re 6_d._ -The woodpecker--I never see no more nor two--they’re 6_d._ the two; -they’re a great cur’osity, very seldom found. The kingfishers has four -eggs, and is 6_d._ That’s all I know of. - -[Illustration: STREET-SELLER OF BIRDS’ NESTS.] - -“I gets the eggs mostly from Witham and Chelmsford, in Essex; -Chelmsford is 20 mile from Whitechapel Church, and Witham, 8 mile -further. I know more about them parts than anywhere else, being used -to go after moss for Mr. Butler, of the herb-shop in Covent Garden. -Sometimes I go to Shirley Common and Shirley Wood, that’s three miles -from Croydon, and Croydon is ten from Westminster-bridge. When I’m -out bird-nesting I take all the cross country roads across fields -and into the woods. I begin bird-nesting in May and leave off about -August, and then comes the bulrushing, and they last till Christmas; -and after that comes the roots and wild flowers, which serves me up -to May again. I go out bird-nesting three times a week. I go away at -night, and come up on the morning of the day after. I’m away a day and -two nights. I start between one and two in the morning and walk all -night--for the coolness--you see the weather’s so hot you can’t -do it in the daytime. When I get down I go to sleep for a couple of -hours. I ‘skipper it’--turn in under a hedge or anywhere. I get down -about nine in the morning, at Chelmsford, and about one if I go to -Witham. After I’ve had my sleep I start off to get my nests and things. -I climb the trees, often I go up a dozen in the day, and many a time -there’s nothing in the nest when I get up. I only fell once; I got on -the end of the bough and slipped off. I p’isoned my foot once with the -stagnant water going after the bulrushes,--there was horseleeches, -and effets, and all kinds of things in the water, and they stung me, -I think. I couldn’t use my foot hardly for six weeks afterwards, and -was obliged to have a stick to walk with. I couldn’t get about at all -for four days, and should have starved if it hadn’t been that a young -man kept me. He was a printer by trade, and almost a stranger to me, -only he seed me and took pity on me. When I fell off the bough I wasn’t -much hurt, nothing to speak of. The house-sparrow is the worst nest of -all to take; it’s no value either when it _is_ got, and is the most -difficult of all to get at. You has to get up a sparapet (a parapet) -of a house, and either to get permission, or run the risk of going -after it without. Partridges’ eggs (they has no nest) they gives you -six months for, if they see you selling them, because it’s game, and -I haven’t no licence; but while you’re hawking, that is showing ’em, -they can’t touch you. The owl is a very difficult nest to get, they -builds so high in the trees. The bottle-tit is a hard nest to find; you -may go all the year round, and, perhaps, only get one. The nest I like -best to get is the chaffinch, because they’re in the hedge, and is no -bother. Oh, you hasn’t got the skylark down, sir; they builds on the -ground, and has five eggs; I sell them for 4_d._ The robin-redbreast -has five eggs, too, and is 3_d._ The ringdove has two eggs, and is -6_d._ The tit-lark--that’s five blue eggs, and very rare--I get 4_d._ -for them. The jay has five eggs, and a flat nest, very wiry, indeed; -it’s a ground bird; that’s 1_s._--the egg is just like a partridge egg. -When I first took a kingfisher’s nest, I didn’t know the name of it, -and I kept wondering what it was. I daresay I asked three dozen people, -and none of them could tell me. At last a bird-fancier, the lame man -at the Mile-end gate, told me what it was. I likes to get the nesties -to sell, but I havn’t no fancy for birds. Sometimes I get squirrels’ -nesties with the young in ’em--about four of ’em there mostly is, and -they’re the only young things I take--the young birds I leaves; they’re -no good to me. The four squirrels brings me from 6_s._ to 8_s._ After -I takes a bird’s nest, the old bird comes dancing over it, chirupping, -and crying, and flying all about. When they lose their nest they wander -about, and don’t know where to go. Oftentimes I wouldn’t take them if -it wasn’t for the want of the victuals, it seems such a pity to disturb -’em after they’ve made their little bits of places. Bats I never take -myself--I can’t get over ’em. If I has an order for ’em, I buys ’em of -boys. - -“I mostly start off into the country on Monday and come up on -Wednesday. The most nesties as ever I took is twenty-two, and I -generally get about twelve or thirteen. These, if I’ve an order, I sell -directly, or else I may be two days, and sometimes longer, hawking them -in the street. Directly I’ve sold them I go off again that night, if -it’s fine; though I often go in the wet, and then I borrow a tarpaulin -of a man in the street where I live. If I’ve a quick sale I get down -and back three times in a week, but then I don’t go so far as Witham, -sometimes only to Rumford; that is 12 miles from Whitechapel Church. -I never got an order from a bird-fancier; they gets all the eggs they -want of the countrymen who comes up to market. - -“It’s gentlemen I gets my orders of, and then mostly they tells me to -bring ’em one nest of every kind I can get hold of, and that will often -last me three months in the summer. There’s one gentleman as I sells to -is a wholesale dealer in window-glass--and he has a hobby for them. He -puts ’em into glass cases, and makes presents of ’em to his friends. He -has been one of my best customers. I’ve sold him a hundred nesties, I’m -sure. There’s a doctor at Dalston I sell a great number to--he’s taking -one of every kind of me now. The most of my customers is stray ones in -the streets. They’re generally boys. I sells a nest now and then to a -lady with a child; but the boys of twelve to fifteen years of age is my -best friends. They buy ’em only for cur’osity. I sold three partridges’ -eggs yesterday to a gentleman, and he said he would put them under a -bantam he’d got, and hatch ’em. - -“The snakes, and adders, and slow-worms I get from where there’s moss -or a deal of grass. Sunny weather’s the best for them, they won’t -come out when it’s cold; then I go to a dung-heap, and turn it over. -Sometimes, I find five or six there, but never so large as the one I -had to-day, that’s a yard and five inches long, and three-quarters of -a pound weight. Snakes is 5_s._ a pound. I sell all I can get to Mr. -Butler, of Covent-garden. He keeps ’em alive, for they’re no good dead. -I think it’s for the skin they’re kept. Some buys ’em to dissect: a -gentleman in Theobalds-road does so, and so he does hedgehogs. Some -buys ’em for stuffing, and others for cur’osities. Adders is the same -price as snakes, 5_s._ a pound after they first comes in, when they’re -10_s._ Adders is wanted dead; it’s only the fat and skin that’s of any -value; the fat is used for curing p’isoned wounds, and the skin is used -for any one as has cut their heads. Farmers buys the fat, and rubs it -into the wound when they gets bitten or stung by anything p’isonous. -I kill the adders with a stick, or, when I has shoes, I jumps on ’em. -Some fine days I get four or five snakes at a time; but then they’re -mostly small, and won’t weigh above half a pound. I don’t get many -adders--they don’t weigh many ounces, adders don’t--and I mostly has -9_d._ a-piece for each I gets. I sells _them_ to Mr. Butler as well. - -“The hedgehogs is 1_s._ each; I gets them mostly in Essex. I’ve took -one hedgehog with three young ones, and sold the lot for 2_s._ 6_d._ -People in the streets bought them of me--they’re wanted to kill the -black-beetles; they’re fed on bread and milk, and they’ll suck a cow -quite dry in their wild state. They eat adders, and can’t be p’isoned, -at least it says so in a book I’ve got about ’em at home. - -“The effets I gets orders for in the streets. Gentlemen gives me their -cards, and tells me to bring them one; they’re 2_d._ apiece. I get them -at Hampstead and Highgate, from the ponds. They’re wanted for cur’osity. - -“The snails and frogs I sell to Frenchmen. I don’t know what part they -eat of the frog, but I know they buy them, and the dandelion root. -The frogs is 6_d._ and 1_s._ a dozen. They like the yellow-bellied -ones, the others they’re afraid is toads. They always pick out the -yellow-bellied first; I don’t know how to feed ’em, or else I might -fatten them. Many people swallows young frogs, they’re reckoned very -good things to clear the inside. The frogs I catch in ponds and ditches -up at Hampstead and Highgate, but I only get them when I’ve a order. -I’ve had a order for as many as six dozen, but that was for the French -hotel in Leicester-square; but I _have_ sold three dozen a week to one -man, a Frenchman, as keeps a cigar shop in R--r’s-court. - -“The snails I sell by the pailful--at 2_s._ 6_d._ the pail. There -is some hundreds in a pail. The wet weather is the best times for -catching ’em; the French people eats ’em. They boils ’em first to get -’em out of the shell and get rid of the green froth; then they boils -them again, and after that in vinegar. They eats ’em hot, but some of -the foreigners likes ’em cold. They say they’re better, if possible, -than whelks. I used to sell a great many to a lady and gentleman in -Soho-square, and to many of the French I sell 1_s._’s worth, that’s -about three or four quarts. Some persons buys snails for birds, and -some to strengthen a sickly child’s back; they rub the back all over -with the snails, and a very good thing they tell me it is. I used to -take 2_s._’s worth a week to one woman; it’s the green froth that does -the greatest good. There are two more birds’-nest sellers besides -myself, they don’t do as many as me the two of ’em. They’re very naked, -their things is all to ribbins; they only go into the country once -in a fortnight. They was never nothing, no trade--they never was in -place--from what I’ve heard--either of them. I reckon I sell about -20 nesties a week take one week with another, and that I do for four -months in the year. (This altogether makes 320 nests.) Yes, I should -say, I do sell about 300 birds’-nests every year, and the other two, -I’m sure, don’t sell half that. Indeed they don’t want to sell; they -does better by what they gets give to them. I can’t say what they -takes, they’re Irish, and I never was in conversation with them. I -get about 4_s._ to 5_s._ for the 20 nests, that’s between 2_d._ and -3_d._ apiece. I sell about a couple of snakes every week, and for some -of them I get 1_s._, and for the big ones 2_s._ 6_d._; but them _I_ -seldom find. I’ve only had three hedgehogs this season, and I’ve done -a little in snails and frogs, perhaps about 1_s._ The many foreigners -in London this season hasn’t done me no good. I haven’t been to -Leicester-square lately, or perhaps I might have got a large order or -two for frogs.” - - -LIFE OF A BIRD’S-NEST SELLER. - -“I am 22 years of age. My father was a dyer, and I was brought up to -the same trade. My father lived at Arundel, in Sussex, and kept a shop -there. He had a good business as dyer, scourer, calico glazer, and -furniture cleaner. I have heard mother say his business in Arundel -brought him in 300_l._ a year at least. He had eight men in his employ, -and none under 30_s._ a week. I had two brothers and one sister, but -one of my brothers is since dead. Mother died five years ago in the -Consumption Hospital, at Chelsea, just after it was built. I was very -young indeed when father died; I can hardly remember him. He died -in Middlesex Hospital: he had abscesses all over him; there were -six-and-thirty at the time of his death. I’ve heard mother say many -times that she thinked it was through exerting himself too much at his -business that he fell ill. The ruin of father was owing to his house -being burnt down; the fire broke out at two in the morning; he wasn’t -insured: I don’t remember the fire; I’ve only heerd mother talk about -it. It was the ruin of us all she used to tell me; father had so much -work belonging to other people; a deal of moreen curtains, five or six -hundred yards. It was of no use his trying to start again: he lost -all his glazing machines and tubs, and his drugs and ‘punches.’ From -what I’ve heerd from mother they was worth some hundreds. The Duke of -Norfolk, after the fire, gave a good lot of money to the poor people -whose things father had to clean, and father himself came up to London. -I wasn’t two year old when that happened. We all come up with father, -and he opened a shop in London and bought all new things. He had got -a bit of money left, and mother’s uncle lent him 60_l._ We lived two -doors from the stage door of the Queen’s Theatre, in Pitt-street, -Charlotte-street, Fitzroy-square; but father didn’t do much in London; -he had a new connection to make, and when he died his things was sold -for the rent of the house. There was only money enough to bury him. I -don’t know how long ago that was, but I think it was about three years -after our coming to London, for I’ve heerd mother say I was six years -old when father died. After father’s death mother borrowed some more -money of her uncle, who was well to do. He was perfumer to her Majesty: -he’s dead now, and left the business to his foreman. The business was -worth 2000_l._ His wife, my mother’s aunt, is alive still, and though -she’s a woman of large property, she won’t so much as look at me. She -keeps her carriage and two footmen; her address is, Mrs. Lewis, No. 10, -Porchester-terrace, Bayswater. I have been in her drawing-room two or -three times. I used to take letters to her from mother: she was very -kind to me then, and give me several half-crowns. She knows the state -I am in now. A young man wrote a letter to her, saying I had no clothes -to look after work in, and that I was near starving, but she sent no -answer to it. The last time I called at her house she sent me down -nothing, and bid the servant tell me not to come any more. Ever since -I’ve wanted it I’ve never had nothing from her, but before that she -used to give me something whenever I took a letter from mother to her. -The last half-crown I got at her house was from the cook, who gave it -me out of her own money because she’d known my mother. - -“I’ve got a grandmother living in Woburn-place; she’s in service there, -and been in the family for twenty years. The gentleman died lately and -left her half his property. He was a foreigner and had no relations -here. My grandmother used to be very good to me, and when I first got -out of work she always gave me something when I called, and had me -down in her room. She was housekeeper then. She never offered to get -me a situation, but only gave me a meal of victuals and a shilling or -eighteen-pence whenever I called. I was tidy in my dress then. At last -a new footman came, and he told me as I wasn’t to call again; he said, -the family didn’t allow no followers. I’ve never seen my grandmother -since that time but once, and then I was passing with my basket of -birds’ nests in my hand just as she was coming out of the door. I was -dressed about the same then as you seed me yesterday. I was without a -shirt to my back. I don’t think she saw me, and I was ashamed to let -her see me as I was. She was kind enough to me, that is, she wouldn’t -mind about giving me a shilling or so at a time, but she never would do -nothing else for me, and yet she had got plenty of money in the bank, -and a gold watch, and all, at her side. - -“After father died, as I was saying, mother got some money from her -uncle and set up on her own account; she took in glazing for the trade. -Father had a few shops that he worked for, and they employed mother -after his death. She kept on at this for eighteen months and then she -got married again. Before this an uncle of mine, my father’s brother, -who kept some lime-kilns down in Bury St. Edmunds, consented to take my -brother and sister and provide for them, and four or five year ago he -got them both into the Duke of Norfolk’s service, and there they are -now. They’ve never seen me since I was a child but once, and that was -a few year ago. I’ve never sent to them to say how badly I was off. -They’re younger than I am, and can only just take care of theirselves. -When mother married again, her husband came to live at the house; he -was a dyer. He behaved very well to me. Mother wouldn’t send me down -to uncle’s, she was too fond of me. I was sent to school for about -eighteen months, and after that I used to assist in the glazing at -home, and so I went on very comfortable for some time. Nine year ago -I went to work at a French dyer’s, in Rathbone-place. My step-father -got me there, and there I stopped six year. I lived in the house after -the first eighteen months of my service. Five year ago mother fell -ill; she had been ailing many years, and she got admitted into the -Consumption Hospital, at Brompton. She was there just upon three months -and was coming out the next day (her term was up), when she died on the -over night. After that my step-father altered very much towards me. He -didn’t want me at home at all. He told me so a fortnight after mother -was in her grave. He took to drinking very hearty directly she was -gone. He would do anything for me before that. He used to take me with -him to every place of amusement what he went to, but when he took to -drinking he quite changed; then he got to beat me, and at last he told -me I needn’t come there any more. - -“After that, I still kept working in Rathbone-place, and got a lodging -of my own; I used to have 9_s._ a week where I was, and I paid 2_s._ -a week for my bed, and washing, and mending. I had half a room with a -man and his wife; I went on so for about two years, and then I was took -bad with the scarlet fever and went to Gray’s-inn-lane hospital. After -I was cured of the scarlet fever, I had the brain fever, and was near -my death; I was altogether eight weeks in the hospital, and when I come -out I could get no work where I had been before. The master’s nephew -had come from Paris, and they had all French hands in the house. He -wouldn’t employ an English hand at all. He give me a trifle of money, -and told me he would pay my lodgings for a week or two while I looked -for work. I sought all about and couldn’t find any; this was about -three year ago. People wouldn’t have me because I didn’t know nothing -about the English mode of business. I couldn’t even tell the names -of the English drugs, having been brought up in a French house. At -last, my master got tired of paying for my lodging, and I used to try -and pick up a few pence in the streets by carrying boxes and holding -horses, it was all as I could get to do; I tried all I could to find -employment, and they was the only jobs I could get. But I couldn’t make -enough for my lodging this way, and over and over again I’ve had to -sleep out. Then I used to walk the streets most of the night, or lie -about in the markets till morning came in the hopes of getting a job. -I’m a very little eater, and perhaps that’s the luckiest thing for such -as me; half a pound of bread and a few potatoes will do me for the day. -If I could afford it, I used to get a ha’porth of coffee and a ha’porth -of sugar, and make it do twice. Sometimes I used to have victuals give -to me, sometimes I went without altogether; and sometimes I couldn’t -eat. I can’t always. - -“Six weeks after I had been knocking about in the streets in the -manner I’ve told you, a man I met in Covent-Garden market told me he -was going into the country to get some roots (it was in the winter -time and cold indeed; I was dressed about the same as I am now, only -I had a pair of boots); and he said if I chose to go with him, he’d -give me half of whatever he earned. I went to Croydon and got some -primroses; my share came to 9_d._, and that was quite a God-send to me, -after getting nothing. Sometimes before that I’d been two days without -tasting anything; and when I got some victuals after that, I couldn’t -touch them. All I felt was giddy; I wasn’t to say hungry, only weak and -sicklified. I went with this man after the roots two or three times; -he took me to oblige me, and show me the way how to get a bit of food -for myself; after that, when I got to know all about it, I went to get -roots on my own account. I never felt a wish to take nothing when I was -very hard up. Sometimes when I got cold and was tired, walking about -and weak from not having had nothing to eat, I used to think I’d break -a window and take something out to get locked up; but I could never -make my mind up to it; they never hurt me, I’d say to myself. I do -fancy though, if anybody had refused me a bit of bread, I should have -done something again them, but I couldn’t, do you see, in cold blood -like. - -“When the summer came round a gentleman whom I seed in the market asked -me if I’d get him half a dozen nesties--he didn’t mind what they was, -so long as they was small, and of different kinds--and as I’d come -across a many in my trips after the flowers, I told him I would do -so--and that first put it into my head; and I’ve been doing that every -summer since then. It’s poor work, though, at the best. Often and often -I have to walk 30 miles out without any victuals to take with me, or -money to get any, and 30 miles again back, and bring with me about a -dozen nesties; and, perhaps, if I’d no order for them, and was forced -to sell them to the boys, I shouldn’t get more than a shilling for the -lot after all. When the time comes round for it, I go Christmasing and -getting holly, but that’s more dangerous work than bird-nesting; the -farmers don’t mind your taking the nesties, as it prevents the young -birds from growing up and eating their corn. The greater part of the -holly used in London for trimming up the churches and sticking in the -puddings, is stolen by such as me, at the risk of getting six months -for it. The farmers brings a good lot to market, but we is obligated to -steal it. Take one week with another, I’m sure I don’t make above 5_s._ -You can tell that to look at me. I don’t drink, and I don’t gamble; -so you can judge how much I get when I’ve had to pawn my shirt for a -meal. All last week I only sold two nesties--they was a partridge’s -and a yellow-hammer’s; for one I got 6_d._, and the other 3_d._, and -I had been thirteen miles to get them. I got beside that a fourpenny -piece for some chickweed which I’d been up to Highgate to gather for -a man with a bad leg (it’s the best thing there is for a poultice to -a wound), and then I earned another 4_d._ by some mash (marsh) mallow -leaves (that there was to purify the blood of a poor woman): that, with -4_d._ that a gentleman give to me, was all I got last week; 1_s._ 9_d._ -I think it is altogether. I had some victuals give to me in the street, -or else I daresay I should have had to go without; but, as it was, I -gave the money to the man and his wife I live with. You see they had -nothing, and as they’re good to me when I want, why, I did what I could -for them. I’ve tried to get out of my present life, but there seems -to be an ill luck again me. Sometimes I gets a good turn. A gentleman -gives me an order, and then I saves a shilling or eighteenpence, so -as to buy something with that I can sell again in the streets; but a -wet day is sure to come, and then I’m cracked up, obligated to eat it -all away. Once I got to sell fish. A gentleman give me a crown-piece -in the street, and I borrowed a barrow at 2_d._ a day, and did pretty -well for a time. In three weeks I had saved 18_s._; then I got an order -for a sack of moss from one of the flower-sellers, and I went down to -Chelmsford, and stopped for the night in Lower Nelson-street, at the -sign of “The Three Queens.” I had my money safe in my fob the night -before, and a good pair of boots to my feet then; when I woke in the -morning my boots was gone, and on feeling in my fob my money was gone -too. There was four beds in the rooms, feather and flock; the feather -ones was 4_d._, and the flock 3_d._ for a single one, and 2-1/2_d._ -each person for a double one. There was six people in the room that -night, and one of ’em was gone before I awoke--he was a cadger--and had -took my money with him. I complained to the landlord--they call him -George--but it was no good; all I could get was some victuals. So I’ve -been obliged to keep to birds’-nesting ever since. - -“I’ve never been in prison but once. I was took up for begging. -I was merely leaning again the railings of Tavistock-square with -my birds’-nesties in my hand, and the policemen took me off to -Clerkenwell, but the magistrates, instead of sending me to prison, -gave me 2_s._ out of the poors’-box. I feel it very much going about -without shoes or without shirt, and exposed to all weathers, and often -out all night. The doctor at the hospital in Gray’s-inn-lane gave me -two flannels, and told me that whatever I did I was to keep myself -wrapped up; but what’s the use of saying that to such as me who is -obligated to pawn the shirt off our back for food the first wet day as -comes? If you haven’t got money to pay for your bed at a lodging-house, -you must take the shirt off your back and leave it with them, or else -they’ll turn you out. I know many such. Sometimes I go to an artist. -I had 5_s._ when I was drawed before the Queen. I wasn’t ’xactly -drawed before her, but my portrait was shown to her, and I was told -that if I’d be there I might receive a trifle. I was drawed as a gipsy -fiddler. Mr. Oakley in Regent-street was the gentleman as did it. I -was dressed in some things he got for me. I had an Italian’s hat, one -with a broad brim and a peaked crown, a red plush waistcoat, and a -yellow hankercher tied in a good many knots round my neck. I’d a black -velveteen Newmarket-cut coat, with very large pearl buttons, and a pair -of black knee-breeches tied with fine red strings. Then I’d blue stripe -stockings and high-ancle boots with very thin soles. I’d a fiddle in -one hand and a bow in the other. The gentleman said he drawed me for my -head of hair. I’ve never been a gipsy, but he told me he didn’t mind -that, for I should make as good a gipsy fiddler as the real thing. The -artists mostly give me 2_s._ I’ve only been three times. I only wish -I could get away from my present life. Indeed I would do any work if I -could get it. I’m sure I could have a good character from my masters in -Rathbone-place, for I never done nothing wrong. But if I couldn’t get -work I might very well, if I’d money enough, get a few flowers to sell. -As it is it’s more than any one can do to save at bird-nesting, and -I’m sure I’m as prudent as e’er a one in the streets. I never took the -pledge, but still I never take no beer nor spirits--I never did. Mother -told me never to touch ’em, and I haven’t tasted a drop. I’ve often -been in a public-house selling my things, and people has offered me -something to drink, but I never touch any. I can’t tell why I dislike -doing so--but something seems to tell me not to taste such stuff. I -don’t know whether it’s what my mother said to me. I know I was very -fond of her, but I don’t say it’s that altogether as makes me do it. I -don’t feel to want it. I smoke a good bit, and would sooner have a bit -of baccy than a meal at any time. I could get a goodish rig-out in the -lane for a few shillings. A pair of boots would cost me 2_s._, and a -coat I could get for 2_s._ 6_d._ I go to a ragged school three times a -week if I can, for I’m but a poor scholar still, and I should like to -know how to read; it’s always handy you know, sir.” - -This lad has been supplied with a suit of clothes and sufficient money -to start him in some of the better kind of street-trades. It was -thought advisable not to put him to any more _settled_ occupation on -account of the vagrant habits he has necessarily acquired during his -bird-nesting career. Before doing this he was employed as errand-boy -for a week, with the object of testing his trustworthiness, and -was found both honest and attentive. He appears a prudent lad, but -of course it is difficult, as yet, to speak positively as to his -character. He has, however, been assured that if he shows a disposition -to follow some more reputable calling he shall at least be put in the -way of so doing. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SQUIRRELS. - -The street squirrel-sellers are generally the same men as are engaged -in the open-air traffic in cage-birds. There are, however, about six -men who devote themselves more particularly to squirrel-selling, while -as many more sometimes “take a turn at it.” The squirrel is usually -carried in the vendor’s arms, or is held against the front of his coat, -so that the animal’s long bushy tail is seen to advantage. There is -usually a red leather collar round its neck, to which is attached some -slender string, but so contrived that the squirrel shall not appear -to be a prisoner, nor in general--although perhaps the hawker became -possessed of his squirrel only that morning--does the animal show any -symptoms of fear. - -The chief places in which squirrels are offered for sale, are -Regent-street and the Royal Exchange, but they are offered also in -all the principal thoroughfares--especially at the West End. The -purchasers are gentlefolk, tradespeople, and a few of the working -classes who are fond of animals. The wealthier persons usually buy the -squirrels for their children, and, even after the free life of the -woods, the animal seems happy enough in the revolving cage, in which it -“thinks it climbs.” - -The prices charged are from 2_s._ to 5_s._, “or more if it can be got,” -from a third to a half being profit. The sellers will oft enough state, -if questioned, that they caught the squirrels in Epping Forest, or Caen -Wood, or any place sufficiently near London, but such is hardly ever -the case, for the squirrels are bought by them of the dealers in live -animals. Countrymen will sometimes catch a few squirrels and bring them -to London, and nine times out of ten they sell them to the shopkeepers. -To sell three squirrels a day in the street is accounted good work. - -I am assured by the best-informed parties that for five months of the -year there are 20 men selling squirrels in the streets, at from 20 to -50 per cent. profit, and that they average a weekly sale of six each. -The average price is from 2_s._ to 2_s._ 6_d._, although not very long -ago one man sold a “wonderfully fine squirrel” in the street for three -half-crowns, but they are sometimes parted with for 1_s._ 6_d._ or -less, rather than be kept over-night. Thus 2400 squirrels are vended -yearly in the streets, at a cost to the public of 240_l._ - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF LEVERETS, WILD RABBITS, ETC. - -There are a few leverets, or young hares, sold in the streets, and -they are vended for the most part in the suburbs, where the houses -are somewhat detached, and where there are plenty of gardens. The -softness and gentleness of the leveret’s look pleases children, more -especially girls, I am informed, and it is usually through their -importunity that the young hares are bought, in order that they may be -fed from the garden, and run tame about an out-house. The leverets thus -sold, however, as regards nine out of ten, soon die. They are rarely -supplied with their natural food, and all their natural habits are -interrupted. They are in constant fear and danger, moreover, from both -dogs and cats. One shopkeeper who sold fancy rabbits in a street off -the Westminster-road told me that he had once tried to tame and rear -leverets in hutches, as he did rabbits, but to no purpose. He had no -doubt it might be done, he said, but not in a shop or a small house. -Three or four leverets are hawked by the street-people in one basket -and are seen lying on hay, the basket having either a wide-worked lid, -or a net thrown over it. The hawkers of live poultry sell the most -leverets, but they are vended also by the singing-bird sellers. The -animals are nearly all bought, for this traffic, at Leadenhall, and are -retailed at 1_s._ to 2_s._ each, one-third to one-half being profit. -Perhaps 300 are sold this way yearly, producing 22_l._ 10_s._ - -About 400 young wild rabbits are sold in the street in a similar way, -but at lower sums, from 3_d._ to 6_d._ each, 4_d._ being the most -frequent rate. The yearly outlay is thus 6_l._ 13_s._ They thrive, in -confinement, no better than the leverets. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF GOLD AND SILVER FISH. - -Of these dealers, residents in London, there are about 70; but during -my inquiry (at the beginning of July) there were not 20 in town. One of -their body knew of ten who were at work live-fish selling, and there -might be as many more, he thought, “working” the remoter suburbs of -Blackheath, Croydon, Richmond, Twickenham, Isleworth, or wherever there -are villa residences of the wealthy. This is the season when the gold -and silver fish-sellers, who are altogether a distinct class from the -bird-sellers of the streets, resort to the country, to vend their glass -globes, with the glittering fish swimming ceaselessly round and round. -The gold fish-hawkers are, for the most part, of the very best class of -the street-sellers. One of the principal fish-sellers is in winter a -street-vendor of cough drops, hore-hound candy, coltsfoot-sticks, and -other medicinal confectionaries, which he himself manufactures. Another -leading gold-fish seller is a costermonger now “on pine-apples.” A -third, “with a good connection among the innkeepers,” is in the autumn -and winter a hawker of game and poultry. - -There are in London three wholesale dealers in gold and silver -fish; two of whom--one in the Kingsland-road and the other close by -Billingsgate--supply more especially the street-sellers, and the -street-traffic is considerable. Gold fish is one of the things which -people buy when brought to their doors, but which they seldom care to -“order.” The importunity of children when a man unexpectedly tempts -them with a display of such brilliant creatures as gold fish, is -another great promotive of the street-trade; and the street-traders are -the best customers of the wholesale purveyors, buying somewhere about -three-fourths of their whole stock. The dealers keep their fish in -tanks suited to the purpose, but goldfish are never bred in London. The -English-reared gold fish are “raised” for the most part, as respects -the London market, in several places in Essex. In some parts they are -bred in warm ponds, the water being heated by the steam from adjacent -machinery, and in some places they are found to thrive well. Some are -imported from France, Holland, and Belgium; some are brought from the -Indies, and are usually sold to the dealers to improve their breed, -which every now and then, I was told, “required a foreign mixture, -or they didn’t keep up their colour.” The Indian and foreign fish, -however, are also sold in the streets; the dealers, or rather the -Essex breeders, who are often in London, have “just the pick of them,” -usually through the agency of their town customers. The English-reared -gold fish are not much short of three-fourths of the whole supply, as -the importation of these fishes is troublesome; and unless they are -sent under the care of a competent person, or unless the master or -steward of a vessel is made to incur a share in the venture, by being -paid so much freight-money for as many gold and silver fishes as are -landed in good health, and nothing for the dead or dying, it is very -hazardous sending them on shipboard at all, as in case of neglect they -may all die during the voyage. - -The gold and silver fish are of the carp species, and are natives of -China, but they were first introduced into this country from Portugal -about 1690. Some are still brought from Portugal. They have been common -in England for about 120 years. - -These fish are known in the street-trade as “globe” and “pond” fish. -The distinction is not one of species, nor even of the “variety” of a -species, but merely a distinction of size. The larger fish are “pond;” -the smaller, “globe.” But the difference on which the street-sellers -principally dwell is that the pond fish are far more troublesome to -keep by them in a “slack time,” as they must be fed and tended most -sedulously. Their food is stale bread or biscuit. The “globe” fish -are not fed at all by the street-dealer, as the animalcules and the -minute insects in the water suffice for their food. Soft, rain, or -sometimes Thames water, is used for the filling of the globe containing -a street-seller’s gold fish, the water being changed twice a day, at a -public-house or elsewhere, when the hawker is on a round. Spring-water -is usually rejected, as the soft water contains “more feed.” One man, -however, told me he had recourse to the street-pumps for a renewal -of water, twice, or occasionally thrice a day, when the weather was -sultry; but spring or well water “wouldn’t do at all.” He was quite -unconscious that he was using it from the pump. - -The wholesale price of these fish ranges from 5_s._ to 18_s._ per -dozen, with a higher charge for “picked fish,” when high prices must -be paid. The cost of “large silvers,” for instance, which are scarcer -than “large golds,” so I heard them called, is sometimes 5_s._ apiece, -even to a retailer, and rarely less than 3_s._ 6_d._ The most frequent -price, retail from the hawker--for almost all the fish are hawked, but -only there, I presume, for a temporary purpose--is 2_s._ the pair. The -gold fish are now always hawked in glass globes, containing about a -dozen occupants, within a diameter of twelve inches. These globes are -sold by the hawker, or, if ordered, supplied by him on his next round -that way, the price being about 2_s._ Glass globes, for the display -of gold fish, are indeed manufactured at from 6_d._ to 1_l._ 10_s._ -each, but 2_s._ or 2_s._ 6_d._ is the usual limit to the price of -those vended in the street. The fish are lifted out of the water in -the globe to consign to a purchaser, by being caught in a neat net, -of fine and different-coloured cordage, always carried by the hawker, -and manufactured for the trade at 2_s._ the dozen. Neat handles for -these nets, of stained or plain wood, are 1_s._ the dozen. The dealers -avoid touching the fish with their hands. Both gold fish and glass -globes are much cheaper than they were ten years ago; the globes are -cheaper, of course, since the alteration in the tax on glass, and the -street-sellers are, numerically, nearly double what they were. - -From a well-looking and well-spoken youth of 21 or 22, I had the -following account. He was the son, and grandson, of costermongers, but -was--perhaps, in consequence of his gold-fish selling lying among a -class not usually the costermongers’ customers--of more refined manners -than the generality of the costers’ children. - -“I’ve been in the streets, sir,” he said, “helping my father, until I -was old enough to sell on my own account, since I was six years old. -_Yes, I like a street life, I’ll tell you the plain truth, for I was -put by my father to a paperstainer, and found I couldn’t bear to stay -in doors. It would have killed me._ Gold fish are as good a thing to -sell as anything else, perhaps, but I’ve been a costermonger as well, -and have sold both fruit and good fish--salmon and fine soles. Gold -fish are not good for eating. I tried one once, just out of curiosity, -and it tasted very bitter indeed; I tasted it boiled. I’ve worked both -town and country on gold fish. I’ve served both Brighton and Hastings. -The fish were sent to me by rail, in vessels with air-holes, when I -wanted more. I never stopped at lodging-houses, but at respectable -public-houses, where I could be well suited in the care of my fish. -It’s an expense, but there’s no help for it.” [A costermonger, when -I questioned him on the subject, told me that he had sometimes sold -gold fish in the country, and though he had often enough slept in -common lodging-houses, he never could carry his fish there, for he -felt satisfied, although he had never tested the fact, that in nine -out of ten such places, the fish, in the summer season, would half of -them die during the night from the foul air.] “Gold fish sell better -in the country than town,” the street-dealer continued; “much better. -They’re more thought of in the country. My father’s sold them all over -the world, as the saying is. I’ve sold both foreign and English fish. I -prefer English. They’re the hardiest; Essex fish. The foreign--I don’t -just know what part--are bred in milk ponds; kept fresh and sweet, -of course; and when they’re brought here, and come to be put in cold -water, they soon die. In Essex they’re bred in cold water. They live -about three years; that’s their lifetime if they’re properly seen to. I -don’t know what kind of fish gold fish are. I’ve heard that they first -came from China. No, I can’t read, and I’m very sorry for it. If I have -time next winter I’ll get taught. Gentlemen sometimes ask me to sit -down, and talk to me about fish, and their history (natural history), -and I’m often at a loss, which I mightn’t be if I could read. If I -have fish left after my day’s work, I never let them stay in the globe -I’ve hawked them in, but put them into a large pan, a tub sometimes, -three-parts full of water, where they have room. My customers are -ladies and gentlemen, but I have sold to shopkeepers, such as -buttermen, that often show gold fish and flowers in their shops. The -fish don’t live long in the very small globes, but they’re put in them -sometimes just to satisfy children. I’ve sold as many as two dozen at -a time to stock a pond in a gentleman’s garden. It’s the best sale a -little way out of town, in any direction. I sell six dozen a week, I -think, one week with another; they’ll run as to price at 1_s._ apiece. -That six dozen includes what I sell both in town and country. Perhaps I -sell them nearly three-parts of the year. Some hawk all the year, but -it’s a poor winter trade. Yes, I make a very fair living; 2_s._ 6_d._ -or 3_s._ or so, a day, perhaps, on gold fish, when the weather suits.” - -A man, to whom I was referred as an experienced gold fish-seller, -had just returned, when I saw him, from the sale of a stock of new -potatoes, peas, &c., which he “worked” in a donkey cart. He had not -this season, he said, started in the gold-fish line, and did very -little last year in it, as his costermongering trade kept steady, but -his wife thought gold fish-selling was a better trade, and she always -accompanied him in his street rounds; so he might take to it again. In -his youth he was in the service of an old lady who had several pets, -and among them were gold fish, of which she was very proud, always -endeavouring to procure the finest, a street-seller being sure of her -as a customer if he had fish larger or deeper or brighter-coloured than -usual. She kept them both in stone cisterns, or small ponds, in her -garden, and in glass globes in the house. Of these fish my informant -had the care, and was often commended for his good management of them. -After his mistress’s death he was very unlucky, he said, in his places. -His last master having been implicated, he believed, in some gambling -and bill-discounting transactions, left the kingdom suddenly, and my -informant was without a character, for the master he served previously -to the one who went off so abruptly was dead, and a character two -years back was of no use, for people said, “But where have you been -living since? Let me know all about that.” The man did not know what to -do, for his money was soon exhausted: “I had nothing left,” he said, -“which I could turn into money except a very good great coat, which had -belonged to my last master, and which was given to me because he went -off without paying me my wages. I thought of ’listing, for I was tired -of a footman’s life, _almost always in the house in such places as I -had_, but I was too old, I feared, and if I could have got over that -I knew I should be rejected because I was getting bald. I was sitting -thinking whatever could be done--I wasn’t married then--and had nobody -to consult with; when I heard the very man as used to serve my old -lady crying gold fish in the street. It struck me all of a heap, and I -wonder I hadn’t thought of it before, when I recollected how well I’d -managed the fish, that I’d sell gold fish too, and hawk it as he did, -as it didn’t seem such a bad trade. So I asked the man all about it, -and he told me, and I raised a sovereign on my great coat, and that was -my start in the streets. I was nervous, and a little ’shamed at first, -but I soon got over that, and in time turned my hand to fruit and other -things. Gold fish saved my life, sir; I do believe that, for I might -have pined into a consumption if I’d been without something to do, and -something to eat much longer.” - -If we calculate, in order to allow for the cessation of the trade -during the winter, and often in the summer when costermongering is -at its best, that but half the above-mentioned number of gold-fish -sellers hawk in the streets and that for but half a year, each selling -six dozen weekly at 12_s._ the dozen, we find 65,520 fish sold, at -an outlay of 3276_l._ As the country is also “worked” by the London -street-sellers, and the supply is derived from London, the number and -amount may be doubled to include this traffic, or 131,040 fish sold, -and 6552_l._ expended. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF TORTOISES. - -The number of tortoises sold in the streets of London is far greater -than might be imagined, for it is a creature of no utility, and one -which is inanimate in this country for half its life. - -Of live tortoises, there are 20,000 annually imported from the port of -Mogadore in Morocco. They are not brought over, as are the parrots, -&c., of which I have spoken, for amusement or as private ventures of -the seamen, but are regularly consigned from Jewish houses in Mogadore, -to Jewish merchants in London. They are a freight of which little care -is taken, as they are brought over principally as ballast in the ship’s -hold, where they remain torpid. - -The street-sellers of tortoises are costermongers of the smarter -class. Sometimes the vendors of shells and foreign birds “work” also -a few tortoises, and occasionally a wholesale dealer (the consignee -of the Jewish house in Africa) will send out his own servants to sell -barrow-loads of tortoises in the street on his own account. They are -regularly ranged on the barrows, and certainly present a curious -appearance--half-alive creatures as they are (when the weather is not -of the warmest), brought from another continent for sale by thousands -in the streets of London, and retention in the gardens and grounds of -our civic villas. Of the number imported, one-half, or 10,000, are -yearly sold in the streets by the several open-air dealers I have -mentioned. The wholesale price is from 4_s._ to 6_s._ the dozen; they -are retailed from 6_d._ to 1_s._, a very fine well-grown tortoise being -sometimes worth 2_s._ 6_d._ The mass, however, are sold at 6_d._ to -9_d._ each, but many fetch 1_s._ They are bought for children, and -to keep in gardens as I have said, and when properly fed on lettuce -leaves, spinach, and similar vegetables, or on white bread sopped in -water, will live a long time. If the tortoise be neglected in a garden, -and have no access to his favourite food, he will eat almost any -green thing which comes in his way, and so may commit ravages. During -the winter, and the later autumn and earlier spring, the tortoise is -torpid, and may be kept in a drawer or any recess, until the approach -of summer “thaws” him, as I heard it called. - -Calculating the average price of tortoises in street-sale at 8_d._ -each, we find upwards of 333_l._ thus expended yearly. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SNAILS, FROGS, WORMS, SNAKES, HEDGEHOGS, ETC. - -I class together these several kinds of live creatures, as they are -all “gathered” and sold by the same persons--principally by the men -who supply bird-food, of whom I have given accounts in my statements -concerning groundsel, chickweed, plaintain, and turf-selling. - -The principal _snail-sellers_, however, are the turf-cutters, who are -young and active men, while the groundsel-sellers are often old and -infirm and incapable of working all night, as the necessities of the -snail-trade often require. Of turf-cutters there were, at the time of -my inquiry last winter, 42 in London, and of these full one-third are -regular purveyors of snails, such being the daintier diet of the caged -blackbirds and thrushes. These men obtain their supply of snails in the -market-gardens, the proprietors willingly granting leave to any known -or duly recommended person who will rid them of these depredators. -Seven-eighths of the quantity gathered are sold to the bird-dealers, to -whom the price is 2_d._ a quart. The other eighth is sold on a street -round at from 3_d._ to 6_d._ the quart. A quart contains at least 80 -snails, not heaped up, their shells being measured along with them. One -man told me there were “100 snails to a fair quart.” - -When it is moonlight at this season of the year, the snail gatherers -sometimes work all night; at other times from an hour before sunset to -the decline of daylight, the work being resumed at the dawn. To gather -12 quarts in a night, or a long evening and morning, is accounted a -prosperous harvest. Half that quantity is “pretty tidy.” An experienced -man said to me:-- - -“The best snail grounds, sir, you may take my word for it, is in Putney -and Barnes. It’s the ‘greys’ we go for, the fellows with the shells -on ’em; the black snails or slugs is no good to us. I think snails is -the slowest got money of any. I don’t suppose they get’s scarcer, but -there’s good seasons for snails and there’s bad. Warm and wet is best. -We don’t take the little ’uns. They come next year. I may make 1_l._ a -year, or a little more, in snails. In winter there’s hardly anything -done in them, and the snails is on the ground; in summer they’re on the -walls or leaves. They’ll keep six months without injury; they’ll keep -the winter round indeed in a proper place.” - -I am informed that the 14 snail gatherers on the average gather six -dozen quarts each in a year, which supplies a total of 12,096 quarts, -or individually, 1,189,440 snails. The labourers in the gardens, I am -informed, may gather somewhat more than an equal quantity,--all being -sold to the bird-shops; so that altogether the supply of snails for the -caged thrushes and blackbirds of London is about two millions and a -half. Computing them at 24,000 quarts, and only at 2_d._ a quart, the -outlay is 200_l._ per annum. - -The _Frogs_ sold by street-people are, at the rate of about 36 dozen -a year, disposed of in equal proportion to University and King’s -Colleges. Only two men collect the frogs, one for each hospital. -They are charged 1_d._ each:--“I’ve sometimes,” said one of the -frog-purveyors, “come on a place where I could have got six or seven -dozen in a day, but that’s mostly been when I didn’t want them. At -other times I’ve gone days without collaring a single frog. I only want -them four times a year, and four or five dozen at a time. The low part -of Hampstead’s the best ground for them, I think. The doctors like -big fellows. They keep them in water ’til they’re wanted to dissect.” -One man thought that there might be 50 more frogs or upwards ordered -yearly, through the bird-shops, for experiments under air-pumps, &c. -This gives about 500 frogs sold yearly by the street-people. One year, -however, I was told, the supply was larger, for a Camberwell gentleman -ordered 40 frogs to stock a watery place at the foot of his garden, as -he liked to hear and see them. - -The _Toad_ trade is almost a nonentity. One man, who was confident -he had as good a trade in that line as any of his fellows, told me -that last year he only supplied one toad; in one year, he forgot the -precise time, he collected ten. He was confident that from 12 to 24 a -year was now the extent of the toad trade, perhaps 20. There was no -regular price, and the men only “work to order.” “It’s just what the -shopkeeper, mostly a herbalist, likes to give.” I was told, from 1_d._ -to 6_d._ according to size. “I don’t know what they’re wanted for, -something about the doctors, I believe. But if you want any toads, sir, -for anything, I know a place between Hampstead and Willesden, where -there’s real stunners.” - -_Worms_ are collected in small quantities by the street-sellers, and -very grudgingly, for they are to be supplied gratuitously to the -shopkeepers who are the customers of the turf-cutters, and snail and -worm collectors. “They expects it as a parquisite, like.” One man told -me that they only gathered ground worms for the bird-fanciers. - -Of the _Snakes_ and _Hedgehogs_ I have already spoken, when treating of -the collection of birds’-nests. I am told that some few _glow-worms_ -are collected. - - - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF MINERAL PRODUCTIONS AND NATURAL CURIOSITIES. - - -The class of which I have now to treat, including as it does the -street-sellers of coal, coke, tan-turf, salt, and sand, seem to have -been called into existence principally by the necessities of the -poorer classes. As the earnings of thousands of men, in all the slop, -“slaughter-house,” or “scamping” branches of tailoring, shoe-making, -cabinet-making, joining, &c. have become lower and lower, they are -compelled to purchase the indispensable articles of daily consumption -in the smallest quantities, and at irregular times, just as the -money is in their possession. This is more especially the case as -regards chamber-masters and garret-masters (among the shoemakers) -and cabinet-makers, who, as they are small masters, and working on -their own account, have not even such a regularity of payment as the -journeyman of the slop-tailor. Among these poor artizans, moreover, -the wife must slave with the husband, and it is often an object with -them to save the time lost in going out to the chandler’s-shop or the -coal-shed, to have such things as coal, and coke brought to their very -doors, and vended in the smallest quantities. It is the same with the -women who work for the slop-shirt merchants, &c., or make cap-fronts, -&c., on their own account, for the supply of the shopkeepers, or the -wholesale swag-men, who sell low-priced millinery. The street-sellers -of the class I have now to notice are, then, the principal purveyors of -the very poor. - -The men engaged in the street-sale of coal and coke--the chief articles -of this branch of the street-sale--are of the costermonger class, -as, indeed, is usually the case where an exercise of bodily strength -is requisite. Costermongers, too, are better versed than any other -street-folk in the management of barrows, carts, asses, ponies, or -horses, so that when these vehicles and these animals are a necessary -part of any open-air business, it will generally be found in the hands -of the coster class. - -Nor is this branch of the street-traffic confined solely to articles of -necessity. Under my present enumeration will be found the street-sale -of _shells_, an ornament of the mantel-piece above the fire-grate to -which coal is a necessity. - -The present division will complete the subject of Street _Sale_ in the -metropolis. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF COALS. - -According to the returns of the coal market for the last few years, -there has been imported into London, on an average, 3,500,000 tons -of sea-borne coal annually. Besides this immense supply, the various -railways have lately poured in a continuous stream of the same -commodity from the inland districts, which has found a ready sale -without sensibly affecting the accustomed vend of the north country -coals, long established on the Coal Exchange. - -To the very poor the importance of coal can be scarcely estimated. -Physiological and medical writers tell us that carbonaceous food is -that which produces heat in the body, and is therefore the fuel of the -system. Experience tells us that this is true; for who that has had -an opportunity of visiting the habitations of the poor--the dwellers -in ill-furnished rooms and garrets--has not remarked the more than -half-starved slop needle-woman, the wretched half-naked children of the -casually employed labourer, as the dock-man, or those whose earnings -are extorted from them by their employers, such as the ballast-man, -sitting crouched around the smouldering embers in the place where the -fire ought to be? The reason of this is, because the system of the -sufferer by long want of food has been deprived of the necessary -internal heat, and so seeks instinctively to supply the deficiency by -imbibing it from some outward source. It is on this account chiefly, -I believe, that I have found the ill-paid and ill-fed workpeople -prize warmth almost more than food. Among the poorest Irish, I have -invariably found them crowding round the wretched fire when they had -nothing to eat. - -The census returns of the present year (according to the accounts -published in the newspapers) estimate the number of the inhabitants of -London at 2,363,141, and the number of inhabited houses as 307,722. -Now if we take into consideration that in the immense suburbs of -the metropolis, there are branching off from almost every street, -labyrinths of courts and alleys, teeming with human beings, and that -almost every room has its separate family--for it takes a multitude of -poor to make one rich man--we may be able to arrive at the conclusion -that by far the greater proportion of coals brought into London are -consumed by the poorer classes. It is on this account of the highest -importance, that honesty should be the characteristic of those engaged -in the vend and distribution of an article so necessary not only to the -comfort but to the very existence of the great masses of the population. - -The modes in which the coals imported into London are distributed to -the various classes of consumers are worthy of observation, as they -unmistakably exhibit not only the wealth of the few, but the poverty -of the many. The inhabitants of Belgravia, the wealthy shopkeepers, -and many others periodically see at their doors the well-loaded waggon -of the coal merchant, with two or three swarthy “coal-porters” bending -beneath the black heavy sacks, in the act of laying in the 10 or 20 -tons for yearly or half-yearly consumption. But this class is supplied -from a very different quarter from that of the artizans, labourers, and -many others, who, being unable to spare money sufficient to lay in at -once a ton or two of coals, must have recourse to other means. To meet -their limited resources, there may be found in every part, always in -back streets, persons known as coal-shed men, who get the coals from -the merchant in 7, 14, or 20 tons at a time, and retail them from 1/4 -cwt. upwards. The coal-shed men are a very numerous class, for there is -not a low neighbourhood in any part of the city which contains not two -or three of them in every street. - -There is yet another class of purchasers of coals, however, which I -have called the ‘very poor,’--the inhabitants of two pairs back--the -dwellers in garrets, &c. It seems to have been for the purpose of -meeting the wants of this class that the street-sellers of coals have -sprung into existence. Those who know nothing of the decent pride which -often lingers among the famishing poor, can scarcely be expected to -comprehend the great boon that the street-sellers of coals, if they -could only be made honest and conscientious dealers, are calculated -to confer on these people. “I have seen,” says a correspondent, “the -starveling child of misery, in the gloom of the evening, steal timidly -into the shop of the coal-shed man, and in a tremulous voice ask, as if -begging a great favour, for _seven pound of coals_. The coal-shed man -has set down his pint of beer, taken the pipe from his mouth, blowing -after it a cloud of smoke, and in a gruff voice, at which the little -wretch has shrunk up (if it were possible) into a less space than -famine had already reduced her to, and demanded--‘Who told you as how -I sarves seven pound o’ coal?--Go to Bill C---- he may sarve you if he -likes--I won’t, and that’s an end on ’t--I wonders what people wants -with seven pound o’ coal.’ The coal-shed man, after delivering himself -of this enlightened observation, has placidly resumed his pipe, while -the poor child, gliding out into the drizzling sleet, disappeared in -the darkness.” - -The street-sellers vend any quantity at the very door of the purchaser, -without rendering it necessary for them to expose their poverty to the -prying eyes of the neighbourhood; and, as I have said were the street -dealers only honest, they would be conferring a great boon upon the -poorer portion of the people, but unhappily it is scarcely possible -for them to be so, and realize a profit for themselves. The police -reports of the last year show that many of the coal merchants, standing -high in the estimation of the world, have been heavily fined for using -false weights; and, did the present inquiry admit of it, there might -be mentioned many other infamous practices by which the public are -shamefully plundered in this commodity, and which go far to prove -that the coal trade, _in toto_, is a gigantic fraud. May I ask how it -is possible for the street-sellers, with such examples of barefaced -dishonesty before their eyes, even to dream of acting honestly? If -not actually certain, yet strongly suspecting, that they themselves -are defrauded by the merchant, how can it be otherwise than that they -should resort to every possible mode of defrauding their customers, and -so add to the already almost unendurable burdens of the poorest of the -poor, who by one means or other are made to bear all the burdens of the -country? - -The usual quantity of coals consumed in the poorest rooms, in which -a family resides, is 1/2 cwt. per week in summer, and 1 cwt. do. in -winter, or about 2 tons per annum. - -The street sale of coals was carried on to a considerable extent during -the earlier part of the last century, “small coalmen” being among the -regular street-traders. The best known of these was Tom Britton, who -died through fright occasioned by a practical joke. He was a great -fosterer of a taste for music among the people; for, after hawking his -coals during the day, he had a musical gathering in his humble abode -in the evening, to which many distinguished persons resorted. This is -alluded to in the lines, by Hughes, under Tom Britton’s portrait, and -the allusion, according to the poetic fashion of the time being made by -means of a strained classicality:-- - - “Cyllenius so, as fables tell, and Jove, - Came willing guests to poor Philemon’s grove.” - -The trade seems to have disappeared gradually, but has recently been -revived in another form. - -Some few years ago an ingenious and enterprising costermonger, during -a “slack” in his own business, conceived the idea of purchasing some -of the refuse of the coals at the wharfs, conveying them round the -poorer localities of his beat, in his ass- or pony-cart, and vending -them to “room-keepers” and others, in small quantities and at a reduced -rate, so as to undersell the coal-shed men, while making for himself a -considerable profit. The example was not lost upon his fraternity, and -no long time had elapsed before many others had started in the same -line; this eventually took so much custom from the regular coal-shed -men, that, as a matter of self-defence, those among them who had a -horse and cart, found it necessary to compete with the originators of -the system in their own way, and, being possessed of more ample means, -they succeeded, in a great measure, in driving the costers out of the -field. The success of the coal-shed men was for a time so well followed -up, that they began by degrees to edge away from the lanes and alleys, -extending their excursions into quarters somewhat more aristocratic, -and even there establishing a trade amongst those who had previously -taken their ton or half ton of coals from the “brass-plate merchant,” -as he is called in the trade, being a person who merely procures orders -for coals, gets some merchant who buys in the coal market to execute -them in his name, and manages to make a living by the profits of these -transactions. Some of this latter class consequently found themselves -compelled to adopt a mode of doing their business somewhat similar, and -for that purpose hired vans from the proprietors of those vehicles, -loaded them with sacks of coals, drove round among their customers, -prepared to furnish them with sacks or half sacks, as they felt -disposed. Finally, many of the van proprietors themselves, finding that -business might be done in this way, started in the line, and, being in -general men of some means, established it as a regular trade. The van -proprietors at the present time do the greater part of the business, -but there may occasionally be seen, employed in this traffic, all sorts -of conveyances, from the donkey-cart of the costermonger, or dock -labourer, the latter of whom endeavours to make up for the miserable -pittance he can earn at the rate of fourpence per hour, by the profits -of this calling, to the aristocratic van, drawn along by two plump, -well-fed horses, the property of a man worth 800_l._ or 900_l._ - -The van of the street-seller of coals is easily distinguished from -the waggon of the regular merchant. The merchant’s waggon is always -loaded with sacks standing perpendicularly; it is drawn by four -immense horses, and is driven along by a gaunt figure, begrimed with -coal-dust, and “sporting” ancle boots, or shoes and gaiters, white, or -what ought to be white, stockings, velvet knee-breeches, short tarry -smock-frock, and a huge fantail hat slouching half-way down his back. -The street-seller’s vehicle, on the contrary, has the coals shot into -it without sacks; while, on a tailboard, extending behind, lie weights -and scales. It is most frequently drawn by one horse, but sometimes -by two, with bells above their collars jingling as they go, or else -the driver at intervals rings a bell like a dustman’s, to announce his -approach to the neighbourhood. - -The street-sellers formerly purchased their coals from any of the -merchants along the river-side; generally the refuse, or what remained -after the best had been picked out by “skreening” or otherwise; but -always taking a third or fourth quality as most suitable for their -purpose. But since the erection of machinery for getting coals out -of the ships in the Regent’s Canal basin, they have resorted to that -place, as the coals are at once shot from the box in which they are -raised from the hold of the ship, into the cart or van, saving all the -trouble of being filled in sacks by coal porters, and carried on their -backs from the ship, barge, or heap, preparatory to their being emptied -into the van; thus getting them at a cheaper rate, and consequently -being enabled to realize a greater profit. - -Since the introduction of inland coals, also, by the railways, many of -the street-sellers have either wholly, or in part, taken to sell them -on account of the lower rate at which they can be purchased; sometimes -they vend them unmixed, but more frequently they mix them up with “the -small” of north country coals of better quality, and palm off the -compound as “genuine Wallsend direct from the ship:” this (together -with short weights) being, in fact, the principal source of their -profit. - -It occasionally happens that a merchant purchases in the market a cargo -of coals which turns out to be damaged, very small, or of inferior -quality. In such cases he usually refuses to take them, and it is -difficult to dispose of them in any regular way of trade. Such cargoes, -or parts of cargoes, are consequently at times bought up by some of the -more wealthy van proprietors engaged in the coal line, who realize on -them a great profit. - -To commence business as a street-seller of coals requires little -capital beyond the possession of a horse and cart. The merchants in -all cases let street-sellers have any quantity of coals they may -require till they are able to dispose of them; and the street-trade -being a ready-money business, they can go on from day to day, or from -week to week, according to their pre-arrangements, so that, as far as -the commodity in which they deal is concerned, there is no outlay of -capital whatever. - - There are about 30 two-horse vans continually - engaged in this trade, the price of each van - being 70_l._ This gives £2100 - 100 horses at 20_l._ each 1200 - 160 carts at 10_l._ each 1600 - 160 horses at 10_l._ each 1600 - 20 donkey or pony carts, value 1_l._ each 20 - 20 donkeys or ponies at 1_l._ 10_s._ each 30 - - Making a total of 210 vehicles continually - employed, which, with the horses, ---- - &c., may be valued at 6550 - - This sum, with the price of 210 sets - of weights and scales, at 1_l._ 10_s._ per set 315 - ---- - Makes a total of £6865 - -This may be fairly set down as the gross amount of capital at present -employed in the street-sale of coals. - -It is somewhat difficult to ascertain correctly the amount of coals -distributed in this way among the poorer classes. But I have found -that they generally take two turns per day; that is they go to the -wharfs in the morning, get their vans or carts loaded, and proceed -on their various rounds. This first turn usually occupies them till -dinner-time, after which they get another load, which is sufficient to -keep them employed till night. Now if we allow each van to carry two -and a half tons, it will make for all 150 tons per day, or 900 tons per -week. In the same manner allowing the 160 carts to carry a ton each, -it will give 320 tons per day, or 1920 tons per week, and the twenty -pony carts half a ton each, 40 tons per day, or 240 tons per week, -making a total of 3060 tons per week, or 159,120 tons per annum. This -quantity purchased from the merchants at 14_s._ 6_d._ per ton amounts -to 115,362_l._ annually, and sold at the rate of 1_s._ per cwt., or -1_l._ per ton, leaves 5_s._ 6_d._ per ton profit, or a total profit of -43,758_l._, and this profit divided according to the foregoing account -gives the subjoined amounts, viz.:-- - - To each two-horse van regularly employed - throughout the year, a profit of £429 0 - To each one-horse cart, ditto, ditto, 171 12 - To each pony cart, ditto, ditto, 121 12 - -From which must, of course, be made the necessary deductions for the -keep of the animals and the repair of vehicles, harness, &c. - -The keep of a good horse is 10_s._ per week; a pony 6_s._ Three horses -can be kept for the price of two, and so on; the more there are, the -less cost for each. - -The localities where the street-sellers of coals may most frequently -be met with, are Blackwall, Poplar, Limehouse, Stepney, St. George’s -East, Twig Folly, Bethnal Green, Spitalfields, Shoreditch, Kingsland, -Haggerstone, and Islington. It is somewhat remarkable that they are -almost unknown on the south side of the Thames, and are seldom or never -to be encountered in the low streets and lanes in Westminster lying -contiguous to the river, nor in the vicinity of Marylebone, nor in any -place farther west than Shoreditch; this is on account of the distance -from the Regent’s Canal basin precluding the possibility of their -making more than one turn in the day, which would greatly diminish -their profits, even though they might get a higher price for their -commodity. - -It may be observed that the foregoing statement in figures is rather -under the mark than otherwise, as it is founded on the amount of coals -purchased at a certain rate, and sold at a certain profit, without -taking into account any of the “dodges” which almost all classes of -coal dealers, from the highest to the lowest, are known to practise, -so that the rate of profit arising from this business may be fairly -supposed to amount to much more than the above account can show in -figures. - -I received the following statement from a person engaged in the street -traffic:-- - -“I kept a coal-shed and greengrocer’s shop, and as I had a son grown -up, I wanted to get something for him to do; so about six years ago, -having a pony and cart, and seeing others selling coals through the -street, I thought I’d make him try his hand at it. I went to Mr. -B----’s, at Whiting’s wharf, and got the cart loaded, and sent my son -round our own neighbourhood. I found that he soon disposed of them, and -so he went on by degrees. People think we get a great deal of profit, -but we don’t get near as much as they think. I paid 16_s._ a ton all -the winter for coals and sold them for a shilling a hundred, and when -I came to feed the horse I found that he’ll nearly eat it all up. A -horse’s belly is not so easy to fill. I don’t think my son earns much -more now, in summer, than feeds the horse. It’s different in winter; -he does not sell more nor half a ton a day now the weather’s so warm. -In winter he can always sell a ton at the least, and sometimes two, -and on the Saturday he might sell three or four. My cart holds a ton; -the vans hold from two to three tons. I can’t exactly tell how many -people are engaged in selling coals in the street, but there are a -great many, that’s certain. About eight o’clock what a number of carts -and vans you’ll see about the Regent’s Canal! They like to get away -before breakfast, because then they may have another turn after dinner. -There’s a great many go to other places for coals. The people who have -vans do much better than those with the carts, because they carry so -much that they save time. There are no great secrets in our business; -we haven’t the same chance of ‘doing the thing’ as the merchants have. -They can mix the coals up as they like for their customers, and sell -them for best; all we can do is to buy a low quality; then we may lose -our customers if we play any tricks. To be sure, after that we can go -to parts where we’re not known. I don’t use light weights, but I know -it’s done by a good many, and they mix up small coals a good deal, and -that of course helps their profits. My son generally goes four or five -miles before he sells a ton of coals, and in summer weather a great -deal farther. It’s hard-earned money that’s got at it, I can tell you. -My cart is worth 12_l._; I have a van worth 20_l._ I wouldn’t take -20_l._ for my horse. My van holds two tons of coals, and the horse -draws it easily. I send the van out in the winter when there’s a good -call, but in the summer I only send it out on the Saturday. I never -calculated how much profit I made. I haven’t the least idea how much is -got by it, but I’m sure there’s not near as much as you say. Why, if -there was, I ought to have made a fortune by this time.” [It is right -I should state that I received the foregoing account of the profits of -the street trade in coals from one practically and eminently acquainted -with it.] “Some in the trade have done very well, but they were well -enough off before. I know very well I’ll never make a fortune at -anything; I’ll be satisfied if I keep moving along, so as to keep out -of the Union.” - -As to the habits of the street-sellers of coals, they are as various -as their different circumstances will admit; but they closely resemble -each other in one general characteristic--their provident and careful -habits. Many of them have risen from struggling costermongers, to be -men of substance, with carts, vans, and horses of their own. Some of -the more wealthy of the class may be met with now and then in the -parlours of respectable public houses, where they smoke their pipes, -sip their brandy and water, and are remarkable for the shrewdness -of their remarks. They mingle freely with the respectable tradesmen -of their own localities, and may be seen, especially on the Sunday -afternoons, with their wives and showily-dressed daughters in the -gardens of the New Globe, or Green Dragon--the Cremorne and Vauxhall -of the east. I visited the house of one of those who I was told -had originally been a costermonger. The front portion of the shop -was almost filled with coals, he having added to his occupation of -street-seller the business of a coal-shed man; this his wife and a -little boy managed in his absence; while, true to his early training, -the window-ledge and a bench before it were heaped up with cabbages, -onions, and other vegetables. In an open space opposite his door, I -observed a one-horse cart and two or three trucks with his name painted -thereon. At his invitation, I passed through what may be termed the -shop, and entered the parlour, a neat room nicely carpeted, with a -round table in the centre, chairs ranged primly round the walls, and -a long looking-glass reflecting the china shepherds and shepherdesses -on the mantel-piece, while, framed and glazed, all around were -highly-coloured prints, among which, Dick Turpin, in flash red coat, -gallantly clearing the toll-gate in his celebrated ride to York, and -Jack Sheppard lowering himself down from the window of the lock-up -house, were most conspicuous. In the window lay a few books, and one or -two old copies of _Bell’s Life_. Among the well thumbed books, I picked -out the _Newgate Calendar_, and the “_Calendar of Orrers_,” as he -called it, of which he expressed a very high opinion. “Lor bless you,” -he exclaimed, “them there stories is the vonderfullest in the vorld! -I’d never ha believed it, if I adn’t seed it vith my own two hies, but -there can’t be no mistake ven I read it hout o’ the book, can there, -now? I jist asks yer that ere plain question.” - -Of his career he gave me the following account:--“I vos at von time a -coster, riglarly brought up to the business, the times vas good then; -but lor, ve used to lush at sich a rate! About ten year ago, I ses to -meself, I say Bill, I’m blowed if this here game ’ill do any longer. I -had a good moke (donkey), and a tidyish box ov a cart; so vot does I -do, but goes and sees von o’ my old pals that gits into the coal-line -somehow. He and I goes to the Bell and Siven Mackerels in the Mile -End Road, and then he tells me all he knowed, and takes me along vith -hisself, and from that time I sticks to the coals. - -“I niver cared much about the lush myself, and ven I got avay from the -old uns, I didn’t mind it no how; but Jack my pal vos a awful lushy -cove, he couldn’t do no good at nothink, votsomever; he died they -say of _lirium trumans_” [not understanding what he meant, I inquired -of what it was he died]; “why, of _lirium trumans_, vich I takes to -be too much of Trueman and Hanbury’s heavy; so I takes varnin by poor -Jack, and cuts the lush; but if you thinks as ve don’t enjoy ourselves -sometimes, I tells you, you don’t know nothink about it. I’m gittin on -like a riglar house a fire.” - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF COKE. - -Among the occupations that have sprung up of late years is that of the -purchase and distribution of the refuse cinders or coke obtained from -the different gas-works, which are supplied at a much cheaper rate -than coal. Several of the larger gas companies burn as many as 100,000 -tons of coals per annum, and some even more, and every ton thus burnt -is stated to leave behind two chaldrons of coke, returning to such -companies 50 per cent. of their outlay upon the coal. The distribution -of coke is of the utmost importance to those whose poverty forces them -to use it instead of coal. - -It is supposed that the ten gas companies in and about the metropolis -produce at least 1,400,000 chaldrons of coke, which are distributed to -the poorer classes by vans, one-horse carts, donkey carts, trucks, and -itinerant vendors who carry one, and in some cases two sacks lashed -together on their backs, from house to house. - -The van proprietors are those who, having capital, contract with the -companies at a fixed rate per chaldron the year through, and supply -the numerous retail shops at the current price, adding 3_d._ per -chaldron for carriage; thus speculating upon the rise or fall of the -article, and in most cases carrying on a very lucrative business. This -class numbers about 100 persons, and are to be distinguished by the -words “coke contractor,” painted on a showy ground on the exterior of -their handsome well-made vehicles; they add to their ordinary business -the occupation of conveying to their destination the coke that the -companies sell from time to time. These men have generally a capital, -or a reputation for capital, to the extent of 400_l._ or 500_l._, and -in some cases more, and they usually enter into their contracts with -the companies in the summer, when but small quantities of fuel are -required, and the gas-works are incommoded for want of space to contain -the quantity made. They are consequently able, by their command of -means, to make advantageous bargains, and several instances are known -of men starting with a wheelbarrow in this calling and who are now the -owners of the dwellings in which they reside, and have goods, vans, and -carts besides. - -Another class, to whom may be applied much that has been said of the -van proprietors, are the possessors of one-horse carts, who in many -instances keep small shops for the sale of greens, coals, &c. These men -are scattered over the whole metropolis, but as they do not exclusively -obtain their living by vending this article, they do not properly -belong to this portion of the inquiry. - -A very numerous portion of the distributors of coke are the donkey-cart -men, who are to be seen in all the poorer localities with a quantity -shot in the bottom of their cart, and two or three sacks on the top or -fastened underneath--for it is of a light nature--ready to meet the -demand, crying “Coke! coke! coke!” morning, noon, and night. This they -sell as low as 2_d._ per bushel, coke having, in consequence of the -cheapness of coals, been sold at the gas-works by the single sack as -low as 7_d._, and although there is here a seeming contradiction--that -of a man selling and living by the loss--such is not in reality the -case. It should be remembered that a bushel of good coke will weigh -40 lbs., and that the bushels of these men rarely exceed 25 lbs.; so -that it will be seen that by this unprincipled mode of dealing they can -seemingly sell for less than they give, and yet realize a good profit. -The two last classes are those who own a truck or wheelbarrow or are -the fortunate possessors of an athletic frame and broad shoulders, -who roam about near the vicinity of the gas-works, soliciting custom, -obtaining ready cash if possible, but in most cases leaving one sack on -credit, and obtaining a profit of from 2_d._, 3_d._, 4_d._, or more. -These men are to be seen going from house to house cleverly regulating -their arrival to such times as when the head of the family returns -home with his weekly wage, and in possession of ready cash enough to -make a bargain with the coke contractor. Another fact in connection -with this class, many of whom are women, who employ boys to drag or -carry their wares to their customers, is this: when they fail through -any cause, they put their walk up for sale, and find no difficulty to -obtain purchasers from 2_l._ to as high as 8_l._, 10_l._, and 12_l._ -The street-sellers of coke number in all not less than 1500 persons, -who may be thus divided: van proprietors, 100; single horse carts, -300; donkey-cart men, 500; trucks, wheelbarrows, and “physical force -men,” 550; and women about 50, who penetrate to all the densely-crowded -districts about town distributing this useful article; the major -portion of those who are of anything like sober habits, live in -comfort; and in spite of the opinion held by many, that the consumption -of coke is injurious to health and sight, they carry on a large and -increasing business. - -At the present time coke may be purchased at the gas factories at 6_s._ -per chaldron; but in winter it generally rises to 10_s._, so that, -taking the average, 8_s._, it will be found, that the gas factories of -the metropolis realize no less a sum than 560,000_l._ per annum, by -the _coke_ produced in the course of their operations. And 4_s._ per -chaldron being considered a fair profit, it will be found, that the -total profit arising from its sale by the various vendors is 280,000_l._ - -It is impossible to arrive with any degree of certainty at the actual -amount of business done by each of the above-named classes, and the -profits consequent on that business: by dividing the above amount -equally among all the coke sellers, it will be found to give 186_l._ -per annum to each person. But it will be at once seen, that the same -rule holds good in the coke trade that has already been explained -in connection with coals: those possessing vans reaping the largest -amount of profit; the one-horse cart men next; then the donkey carts, -trucks, and wheelbarrows; and, least of all, the “backers,” as they are -sometimes called. - -Concerning the amount of capital invested in the street-sale of coals -it may be estimated as follows:-- - - If we allow 70_l._ for each of the 100 - vans, it will give £7,000 - 20_l._ for each of the horses 2,000 - 300 carts at 10_l._ each 3,000 - 300 horses at 10_l._ each 3,000 - 500 donkey-carts at 1_l._ each 500 - 500 donkeys at 1_l._ each 500 - 200 trucks and barrows at 10_s._ each 100 - ------- - making a total of £16,000 - -To this must be added - - 4800 sacks for the 100 vans at - 3_s._ 6_d._ each 840 0 0 - 3600 sacks for the 300 carts 630 0 0 - 3000 „ „ 500 donkey carts 525 0 0 - 1652 „ „ 550 trucks and backers 288 15 0 - 300 „ „ 50 women 52 10 0 - -------------- - £18,336 5 0 - -------------- - - Which being added to the value of vans, - carts, and horses employed in the - street-sale of coals, viz. 6,865 - -------- - gives a capital of £252,015 - -------- - -employed in the street-sale of coal and coke. - - The profits of both these trades added - together, namely, that on coals 43,758 - and the profit on coke 280,000 - -------- - shows a total profit of £323,758 - -to be divided among 1710 persons, who compose the class of itinerant -coal and coke vendors of the metropolis. - -The following statement as to the street-sale of coke was given by a -man in good circumstances, who had been engaged in the business for -many years:-- - -“I am a native of the south of Ireland. More nor twenty years ago I -came to London. I had friends here working in a gas factory, and afther -a time they managed to get me into the work too. My business was to -keep the coals to the stokers, and when they emptied the retorts to -wheel the coke in barrows and empty it on the coke heap. I worked for -four or five years, off and on, at this place. I was sometimes put -out of work in the summer-time, because they don’t want as many hands -then. There’s not near so much gas burned in summer, and then, of -course, it takes less hands to make it. Well, at last I got to be a -stoker; I had betther wages thin, and a couple of pots of beer in the -day. It was dhreadful hard work, and as hot, aye, as if you were in -the inside of an oven. I don’t know how I ever stood it. Be me soul, -I don’t know how anybody stands it; it’s the divil’s place of all you -ever saw in your life, standing there before them retorts with a long -heavy rake, pullin out the red-hot coke for the bare life, and then -there’s the rake red-hot in your hands, and the hissin and the bubblin -of the wather, and the smoke and the smell--it’s fit to melt a man like -a rowl of fresh butther. I wasn’t a bit too fond of it, at any rate, -for it ’ud kill a horse; so I ses to the wife, ‘I can’t stand this much -longer, Peggy.’ Well, behold you, Peggy begins to cry and wring her -hands, thinkin we’d starve; but I knew a grate dale betther nor that, -for I was two or three times dhrinkin with some of thim that carry the -coke out of the yard in sacks to sell to the poor people, and they had -twice as much money to spind as me, that was working like a horse from -mornin to night. I had a pound or two by me, for I was always savin, -and by this time I knew a grate many people round about; so off I goes, -and asks one and another to take a sack of coke from me, and bein -knoun in the yard, and standin a dhrop o’ dhrink now and thin for the -fillers, I alway got good measure, and so I used to make four sacks out -of three, and often three out of two. Well, at last I got tired carryin -sacks on me back all day, and now I know I was a fool for doin it at -all, for it’s asier to dhrag a thruck with five or six sacks than to -carry one; so I got a second-hand thruck for little or nothin, and thin -I was able to do five times as much work in half the time. At last, -I took a notion of puttin so much every Sathurday night in the savin -bank, and faith, sir, that was the lucky notion for me, although Peggy -wouldn’t hear of it at all at all. She swore the bank ’ud be broke, -and said she could keep the goold safer in her own stockin; that thim -gintlemin in banks were all a set of blickards, and only desaved the -poor people into givin them their money to keep it thimselves. But in -spite of Peggy I put the money in, and it was well for me that I did -so, for in a short time I could count up 30 or 40 guineas in bank, and -whin Peggy saw that the bank wasn’t broke she was quite satisfied; so -one day I ses to myself, What the divil’s the use of me breakin my -heart mornin, noon, and night, dhraggin a thruck behind me, whin ever -so little a bit of a horse would dhrag ten time as much as I can? so -off I set to Smithfield, and bought a stout stump of a horse for 12_l._ -10_s._, and thin wint to a sale and bought an ould cart for little or -nothin, and in less nor a month I had every farthin back again in the -bank. Well, afther this, I made more and more every day, and findin -that I paid more for the coke in winther than in summer, I thought as -I had money if I could only get a place to put a good lot in summer to -sell in winther it would be a good thing; so I begun to look about, and -found this house for sale, so I bought it out and out. It was an ould -house to be sure; but it’s sthrong enough, and dune up well enough for -a poor man--besides there’s the yard, and see in that yard there’s a -hape o’ coke for the winther. I’m buyin it up now, an it ’ill turn a -nice pinny whin the could weather comes again. To make a long story -short, I needn’t call the king my cousin. I’m sure any one can do well, -if he likes; but I don’t mane that they can do well brakin their heart -workin; divil a one that sticks to work ’ill ever be a hapenny above a -beggar; and I know if I’d stuck to it myself I’d be a grate dale worse -off now than the first day, for I’m not so young nor near so sthrong as -I was thin, and if I hadn’t lift it off in time I’d have nothin at all -to look to in a few years more but to ind my days in the workhouse--bad -luck to it.” - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF TAN-TURF. - -Tan-turf is oak bark made into turf after its virtues have been -exhausted in the tan-pits. To make it into turf the manufacturers have -a mill which is turned by horse-power, in which they grind the bark to -a considerable degree of fineness, after which it is shaped by a mould -into thin cakes about six inches square, put out to dry and harden, and -when thoroughly hardened it is fit for sale and for all the uses for -which it is intended. - -There is only one place in London or its neighbourhood where there -are tan-pits--in Bermondsey--and there only is the turf made. There -are not more than a dozen persons in London engaged in the sale of -this commodity in the streets, and they are all of the tribe of the -costermongers. The usual capital necessary for starting in the line -being a donkey and cart, with 9_s._ or 10_s._ to purchase a few -hundreds of the turf. - -There is a tradition extant, even at the present day, that during the -prevalence of the plague in London the houses where the tan-turf was -used in a great measure escaped that awful visitation; and to this -moment many people purchase and burn it in their houses on account of -the peculiar smell, and under the belief that it is efficacious in -repelling infectious diseases from the localities in which it is used. - -The other purposes for which it is used are for forming a sort of -compost or manure for plants of the heath kind, which delight in a soil -of this description, growing naturally among mosses and bogs where the -peat fuel is obtained. It is used also by small bakers for heating -their ovens, as preferable for their purposes, and more economical -than any other description of fuel. Sometimes it is used for burning -under coppers; and very often for keeping alight during the night, on -account of the slowness of its decomposition by fire, for a single cake -will continue burning for a whole night, will be found in the morning -completely enveloped in a white ash, which, on being removed, discovers -the live embers in the centre. - -The rate at which the tan turf is sold to the dealers, at the tan-pits, -is from 6_d._ to 9_d._ per hundred cakes. Those at 9_d._ per hundred -are perfect and unbroken, while those at 6_d._ have been injured in -some way or other. The quality of the article, however, remains the -same, and by purchasing some of each sort the vendors are able to make -somewhat more profit, which may be, on an average, about 4-1/2_d._ per -hundred, as they sell it at 1_s._ - -While seeking information on this subject I obtained the address of a -person in T---- mews, T---- square, engaged in the business. Running -out of the square is a narrow street, which, about mid-way through, -leads on the right-hand side to a narrow alley, at the bottom of which -is the mews, consisting of merely an oblong court, surrounded by -stables of the very smallest dimensions, not one of them being more -than twelve feet square. Three or four men, in the long waistcoats and -full breeches peculiar to persons engaged among horses, were lounging -about, and, with the exception of the horses, appeared to be the only -inhabitants of the place. On inquiring of one of the loungers, I was -shown a stable in one corner of the court, the wide door of which stood -open. On entering I found it occupied by a donkey-cart, containing a -couple of hundred cakes of tan-turf; another old donkey-cart was turned -up opposite, the tailboard resting on the ground, the shafts pointing -to the ceiling, while a cock and two or three draggle-tailed hens were -composing themselves to roost on the front portion of the cart between -the shafts. Within the space thus inclosed by the two carts lay a -donkey and two dogs, that seemed keeping him company, and were busily -engaged in mumbling and crunching some old bones. On the wall hung -“Jack’s harness.” In one corner of the ceiling was an opening giving -access to the place above, which was reached by means of a long ladder. -On ascending this I found myself in a very small attic, with a sloping -ceiling on both sides. In the highest part, the middle of the room, -it was not more than six feet high, but at the sides it was not more -than three feet. In this confined apartment stood a stump bedstead, -taking up the greater portion of the floor. In a corner alongside the -fire-place I noticed what appeared to be a small turn-up bedstead. A -little ricketty deal table, an old smoke dried Dutch clock, and a poor -old woman, withered and worn, were the only other things to be seen in -the place. The old woman had been better off, and, as is not uncommon -under such circumstances, she endeavoured to make her circumstances -appear better than they really were. She made the following statement:-- - -“My husband was 23 years selling the tan turf. There used to be a great -deal more of it sold than there is now; people don’t seem to think so -much of it now, as they once did, but there are some who still use it. -There’s an old lady in Kentish-town, who must have it regularly; she -burns it on account of the smell, and has burned it for many years: -my husband used to serve her. There’s an old doctor at Hampstead--or -rather he was there, for he died a few days ago--he always bought a -deal of it, but I don’t know whether he burned it or not; he used to -buy 500 or 600 at a time, he was a very good customer, and we miss him -now. The gardeners buy some of it, for their plants, they say it makes -good manure, though you wouldn’t think so to look at it, it’s so hard -and dry. My husband is dead three years; we were better off when he was -alive; he was a very sober and careful man, and never put anything to -waste. My youngest son goes with the cart now; he don’t do as well as -his father, poor little fellow! he’s only fourteen years of age, but he -does very well for a boy of his age. He sometimes travels 30 miles of -a day, and can’t sell a load--sometimes not half a load; and then he -comes home of a night so footsore that you’d pity him. Sometimes he’s -not able to stir out, for a day or two, but he must do something for -a living; there’s nothing to be got by idleness. The cart will hold -1000 or 1200, and if he could sell that every day we’d do very well; it -would leave us about 3_s._ 6_d._ profit, after keeping the donkey. It -costs 9_d._ a day to keep our donkey; he’s young yet, but he promises -to be a good strong animal, and I like to keep him well, even if I -go short myself, for what could we do without him? I believe there -are one or two persons selling tan-turf who use trucks, but they’re -strong; besides they can’t do much with a truck, they can’t travel as -far with a truck as a donkey can, and they can’t take as much out with -them. My son goes of a morning to Bermondsey for a load, and is back by -breakfast time; from this to Bermondsey is a long way--then he goes out -and travels all round Kentish-town and Hampstead, and what with going -up one street and down another, by the time he comes home at night, he -don’t travel less than from 25 to 30 miles a day. I have another son, -the eldest. He used to go with his father when he was alive; he was -reared to the business, but after he died he thought it was useless for -both to go out with the cart, so he left it to the little fellow, and -now the eldest works among horses. He don’t do much, only gets an odd -job now and then among the ostlers, and earns a shilling now and then. -They’re both good lads, and would do well if they could; they do as -well as they can, and I have a right to be thankful for it.” - -The poor woman, notwithstanding the extraordinary place in which -she lived, and the confined dimensions of her single apartment (I -ascertained that the two sons slept in the stump bedstead, while she -used the turn-up), was nevertheless cleanly in her person and apparel, -and superior in many respects to persons of the same class, and I give -her statement verbatim, as it corroborates, in almost every particular, -the statement of the unfortunate seller of salt, who is afflicted with -a drunken disorderly wife, and who is also a man superior to the people -with whom he is compelled to associate, but who in evident bitterness -of spirit made this assertion: “Bad as I’m off now, if I had only a -careful partner, I wouldn’t want for anything.” - -Concerning the dogs that I have spoken of as being with the donkey, -there is a curious story. During his rounds the donkey frequently met -the bitch, and an extraordinary friendship grew up between the two -animals, so that the dog at last forsook its owner, and followed the -donkey in all his travels. For some time back she has accompanied him -home, together with her puppy, and they all sleep cozily together -during the night, Jack taking especial care not to hurt the young one. -In the morning, when about to go out for the day’s work, it is of no -use to expect Jack to go without his friends, as he will not budge an -inch, so he is humoured in his whim. The puppy, when tired, is put into -the cart, and the mother forages for her living along the way; the poor -woman not being able to feed them. The owner of the dogs came to see -them on the day previous to my visit. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SALT. - -Until a few years after the repeal of the duty on the salt, there were -no street-sellers of it. It was first taxed in the time of William -III., and during the war with Napoleon the impost was 15_s._ the -bushel, or nearly thirty times the cost of the article taxed. The duty -was finally repealed in 1823. When the tax was at the highest, salt -was smuggled most extensively, and retailed at 4_d._ and 4-1/2_d._ the -pound. A licence to sell it was also necessary. Street salt-selling is -therefore a trade of some twenty years standing. Considering the vast -consumption of salt, and the trifling amount of capital necessary to -start in the business, it might be expected that the street-sellers -would be a numerous class, but they do not number above 150 at the -outside. The reason assigned by a well-informed man was, that in every -part of London there are such vast numbers of shopkeepers who deal in -salt. - - About one-half of those employed in - street salt-selling have donkeys and - carts, and the rest use the two-wheeled - barrow of the costermonger, to which - class the street salt-sellers, generally, - belong. The value of the - donkey and cart may be about 2_l._ 5_s._ - on an average, so that 75 of the - number possessing donkeys and carts - will have a capital among them equal - to the sum of £168 15 0 - The barrows of the remainder are - worth about 10_s._ each, which will - amount to 37 10 0 - To sell 3 cwt. of salt in a day is considered - good work; and this, if purchased - at 2_s._ per cwt., gives for stock-money - the sum total of 45 0 0 - ----------- - Thus the amount of capital which - may be reasonably assumed to be - embarked in this business is £251 5 0 - ----------- - -The street-sellers pay at the rate of 2_s._ per cwt. for the salt, and -retail it at 3 lbs. for 1_d._, which leaves 1_s._ 1_d._ profit on every -cwt. One day with another, taking wet and dry, for from the nature of -the article it cannot be hawked in wet weather, the street-sellers -dispose of about 2-1/2 cwt. per day, or 18 tons 15 cwt. per day for all -hands, which, deducting Sundays, makes 5825 tons in the course of the -year. The profit of 1_s._ 1_d._ per cwt. amounts to a yearly aggregate -profit of 6310_l._ 8_s._ 4_d._, or about 42_l._ per annum for each -person in the trade. - -The salt dealers, generally, endeavour to increase their profits by the -sale of mustard, and sometimes by the sale of rock-salt, which is used -for horses; but in these things they do little, the most profit they -can realize in a day averaging about 4_d._ - -The salt men who merely use the barrow are much better off than the -donkey-cart men; the former are young men, active and strong, well -able to drive their truck or barrow about from one place to another, -and they can thereby save the original price and subsequent keep of -the donkey. The latter are in general old men, broken down and weak, -or lads. The daily cost of keeping a donkey is from 6_d._ to 9_d._; if -we reckon 7-1/2_d._ as the average, it will annually amount to 11_l._ -8_s._ 1_d._ the year, which will reduce the profit of 42_l._ to about -30_l._, and so leave a balance of 11_l._ 8_s._ 1_d._ in favour of the -truck or barrow man. - -There are nine or ten places where the street-sellers purchase the -salt:--Moore’s, at Paddington, who get their salt by the canal, from -Staffordshire; Welling’s, at Battle-bridge; Baillie, of Thames-street, -&c. Great quantities are brought to London by the different railways. -The street-sellers have all regular beats, and seldom intrude on each -other, though it sometimes happens, especially when any quarrel occurs -among them, that they oppose and undersell one another in order to -secure the customers. - -During my inquiries on this subject, I visited Church-lane, Bloomsbury, -to see a street-seller, about seven in the evening. Since the -alterations in St. Giles’s, Church-lane has become one of the most -crowded places in London. The houses, none of which are high, are all -old, time-blackened, and dilapidated, with shattered window-frames -and broken panes. Stretching across the narrow street, from all the -upper windows, might be seen lines crossing and recrossing each other, -on which hung yellow-looking shirts, stockings, women’s caps, and -handkerchiefs looking like soiled and torn paper, and throwing the -whole lane into shade. Beneath this ragged canopy, the street literally -swarmed with human beings--young and old, men and women, boys and -girls, wandering about amidst all kinds of discordant sounds. The -footpaths on both sides of the narrow street were occupied here and -there by groups of men and boys, some sitting on the flags and others -leaning against the wall, while their feet, in most instances bare, -dabbled in the black channel alongside the kerb, which being disturbed -sent up a sickening stench. Some of these groups were playing cards for -money, which lay on the ground near them. Men and women at intervals -lay stretched out in sleep on the pathway; over these the passengers -were obliged to jump; in some instances they stood on their backs as -they stepped over them, and then the sleeper languidly raised his head, -growled out a drowsy oath, and slept again. Three or four women, with -bloated countenances, blood-shot eyes, and the veins of their necks -swollen and distended till they resembled strong cords, staggered about -violently quarrelling at the top of their drunken voices. - -The street salt-seller--whom I had great difficulty in finding in such -a place--was a man of about 50, rather sickly in his look. He wore an -old cloth cap without a peak, a sort of dun-coloured waistcoat, patched -and cobbled, a strong check shirt, not remarkable for its cleanliness, -and what seemed to me to be an old pair of buckskin breeches, with -fragments hanging loose about them like fringes. To the covering of -his feet--I can hardly say shoes--there seemed to be neither soles nor -uppers. How they kept on was a mystery. - -In answer to my questions, he made the following statement, in language -not to be anticipated from his dress, or the place in which he resided: -“For many years I lived by the sale of toys, such as little chairs, -tables, and a variety of other little things which I made myself and -sold in the streets; and I used to make a good deal of money by them; -I might have done well, but when a man hasn’t got a careful partner, -it’s of no use what he does, he’ll never get on, he may as well give -it up at once, for the money’ll go out ten times as fast as he can -bring it in. I hadn’t the good fortune to have a careful woman, but one -who, when I wouldn’t give her money to waste and destroy, took out my -property and made money of it to drink; where a bad example like that -is set, it’s sure to be followed; the good example is seldom taken, -but there’s no fear of the bad one. You may want to find out where the -evil lies, I tell you it lies in that pint pot, and in that quart pot, -and if it wasn’t for so many pots and so many pints, there wouldn’t -be half so much misery as there is. I know that from my own case. I -used to sell toys, but since the foreign things were let come over, I -couldn’t make anything of them, and was obliged to give them up. I was -forced to do something for a living, for a half loaf is better than no -bread at all, so seeing two or three selling salt, I took to it myself. -I buy my salt at Moore’s wharf, Paddington; I consider it the purest; -I could get salt 3_d._ or 2_d._ the cwt., or even cheaper, but I’d -rather have the best. A man’s not ashamed when he knows his articles -are good. Some buy the cheap salt, of course they make more profit. We -never sell by measure, always by weight; some of the street weights, -a good many of them, are slangs, but I believe they are as honest as -many of the shopkeepers after all; every one does the best he can to -cheat everybody else. I go two or three evenings in the week, or as -often as I want it, to the wharf for a load. I’m going there to-night, -three miles out and three miles in. I sell, considering everything, -about 2 cwt. a day; I sold 1-1/2 to-day, but to-morrow (Saturday) -I’ll sell 3 or 4 cwt., and perhaps more. I pay 2_s._ the cwt. for it, -and make about 1_s._ a cwt. profit on that. I sold sixpennyworth of -mustard to-day; it might bring me in 2_d._ profit, every little makes -something. If I wasn’t so weak and broke down, I wouldn’t trouble -myself with a donkey, it’s so expensive; I’d easily manage to drive -about all I’d sell, and then I’d save the expense. It costs me 7_d._ -or 8_d._ a day to keep him, besides other things. I got him a set of -shoes yesterday, I said I’d shoe him first and myself afterwards; so -you see there’s other expenses. There’s my son, too, paid off the -other day from the _Prince of Wales_, after a four years’ voyage, and -he came home without a sixpence in his pocket. He might have done -something for me, but I couldn’t expect anything else from him after -the example that was set to him. Even now, bad as I am, I wouldn’t want -for anything if I had a careful woman; but she’s a shocking drunkard, -and I can do nothing with her.” This poor fellow’s mind was so full of -his domestic troubles that he recurred to them again and again, and was -more inclined to talk about what so nearly concerned himself than on -any matter of business. - - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SAND. - -Two kinds of sand only are sold in the streets, scouring or floor sand, -and bird sand for birds. In scouring sand the trade is inconsiderable -to what it was, saw-dust having greatly superseded it in the -gin-palace, the tap-room, and the butcher’s shop. Of the supply of -sand, a man, who was working at the time on Hampstead-heath, gave the -following account:--“I’ve been employed here for five-and-thirty years, -under Sir Thomas Wilson. Times are greatly changed, sir; we used to -have from 25 to 30 carts a day hawking sand, and taking six or seven -men to fill them every morning; besides large quantities which went to -brass-founders, and for cleaning dentists’ cutlery, for stone-sawing, -lead and silver casting, and such like. This heath, sir, contains -about every kind of sand, but Sir Thomas won’t allow us to dig it. The -greatest number of carts filled now is eight or ten a day, which I fill -myself. Sir Thomas has raised the price from 3_s._ 6_d._ to 4_s._ a -load, of about 2-1/2 tons. Bless you, sir, some years ago, one might go -into St. Luke’s, and sell five or six cart-loads of house-sand a week; -now, a man may roar himself hoarse, and not sell a load in a fortnight. -Saw-dust is used in all the public-houses and gin-palaces. People’s -sprung up who don’t use sand at all; and many of the old people are too -poor to buy it. The men who get sand here now are old customers, who -carry it all over the town, and round Holloway, Islington, and such -parts. Twelve year ago I would have taken here 6_l._ or 7_l._ in a -morning, to-day I have only taken 9_s._ Fine weather is greatly against -the sale of house-sand; in wet, dirty weather, the sale is greater.” - -One street sand-seller gave the following account of his calling:-- - -“I have been in the sand business, man and boy, for 40 years. I was -at it when I was 12 years old, and am now 52. I used to have two carts -hawking sand, but it wouldn’t pay, so I have just that one you see -there. Hawking sand is a poor job now. I send two men with that ’ere -cart, and pay one of ’em 3_s._ 4_d._ and the other 3_s._ a day. Now, -with beer-money, 2_s._ a week, to the man at the heath, and turnpike -gates, I reckon every load of sand to cost me 5_s._ Add to that 6_s._ -4_d._ for the two men, the wear and tear, and horse’s keep (and, to do -a horse justice, you cannot in these cheap times keep him at less than -10_s._ a week, in dear seasons, it will cost 15_s._), and you will find -each load of sand stands me in a good sum. So suppose we get a guinea a -load, you see we have no great pull. Then there’s the licence, 8_l._ a -year. Many years ago we resisted this, and got Mr. Humphreys to defend -us before the magistrates at Clerkenwell; but we were ‘cast,’ several -hawkers were fined 10_l._, and I was brought up before old Sir Richard -Birnie, at Bow-street, and had to find bail that I would not sell -another bushel of sand till I took out a licence. Soon after that Sir -Thomas Wilson shut up the heath from us; he said he would not have it -cut about any more, for that a poor animal could not pick up a crumb -without being in danger of breaking its leg. This was just after we -took out our licences, and, as we’d paid dearly for being allowed to -sell the sand, some of us, and I was one, we waited upon Sir Thomas, -and asked to be allowed to work out our licences, which was granted, -and we have gone on ever since. My men work very hard for their money, -sir; they are up at 3 o’clock of the morning, and are knocking about -the streets, perhaps till 5 or 6 o’clock in the evening.” - -The yellow house-sand is also found at Kingsland, and at the Kensington -Gravel-pits; but at the latter place street-sellers are not supplied. -The sand here is very fine, and mostly disposed of to plasterers. There -is also some of this kind of sand at Wandsworth. In the street-selling -of house-sand, there are now not above 30 men employed, and few of -these trade on their own account. Reckoning the horses and carts -employed in the trade at the same price as our Camden-town informant -sets on his stock, we have 20 horses, at 10_l._ each, and 20 carts, -at 3_l._ each, with 3 baskets to each, at 2_s._ apiece, making a -total of 236_l._ of capital employed in the carrying machinery of the -street-selling of sand. Allowing 3_s._ a day for each man, the wages -would amount for 30 men to 27_l._ weekly; and the expenses for horses’ -keep, at 10_s._ a head, would give, for 20 horses, 10_l._ weekly, -making a total of 38_l._ weekly, or an annual expenditure for man and -horse of 2496_l._ Calculating the sale at a load per day, for each -horse and cart, at 21_s._ a load, we have 6573_l._ annually expended in -the purchase of house or floor-sand. - -_Bird-sand_, or the fine and dry sand required for the use of -cage-birds, is now obtained altogether of a market gardener in Hackney. -It is sold at 8_d._ the barrow-load; as much being shovelled on to -a coster’s barrow “as it will carry.” A good-sized barrow holds -3-1/2 bushels; a smaller size, 3 bushels, and the buyer is also the -shoveller. Three-fourths of the quantity conveyed by the street-sellers -from Hackney is sold to the bird-shop keepers at 6_d._ for 3 pecks. -The remainder is disposed of to such customers as purchase it in the -street, or is delivered at private houses, which receive a regular -supply. The usual charge to the general public is a halfpenny or a -penny for sand to fill any vessel brought to contain it. A penny a -gallon is perhaps an average price in this retail trade. - -A man, “in a good way of business,” disposes of a barrow-load once -a week; the others once a fortnight. In wet or windy weather great -care is necessary, and much trouble incurred in supplying this sand -to the street-sellers, and again in their vending it in the streets. -The street-vendors are the same men as supply the turf, &c., for -cage-birds, of whom I have treated, p. 156, vol. i. They are 40 in -number, and although they do not all supply sand, a matter beyond -the strength of the old and infirm, a few costermongers convey a -barrow-load of sand now and then to the bird-sellers, and this addition -ensures the weekly supply of 40 barrow-loads. Calculating these at -the wholesale, or bird-dealer’s price--2_s._ 3_d._ a barrow being an -average--we find 234_l._ yearly expended in this sand. What is vended -at 2_s._ 3_d._ costs but 8_d._ at the wholesale price; but the profit -is hardly earned considering the labour of wheeling a heavy barrow of -sand for miles, and the trouble of keeping over night what is unsold -during the day. - -OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SHELLS. - -The street-trade in shells presents the characteristics I have before -had to notice as regards the trade in what are not necessaries, or an -approach to necessaries, in contradistinction of what men must have to -eat or wear. Shells, such as the green snail, ear shell, and others -of that class, though extensively used for inlaying in a variety of -ornamental works, are comparatively of little value; for no matter -how useful, if shells are only well known, they are considered of -but little importance; while those which are rarely seen, no matter -how insignificant in appearance, command extraordinary prices. As an -instance I may mention that on the 23rd of June there was purchased -by Mr. Sowerby, shell-dealer, at a public sale in King-street, -Covent-garden, a small shell not two inches long, broken and damaged, -and withal what is called a “dead shell,” for the sum of 30 guineas. It -was described as the _Conus Glory Mary_, and had it only been perfect -would have fetched 100 guineas. - -Shells, such as conches, cowries, green snails, and ear shells (the -latter being so called from their resemblance to the human ear), are -imported in large quantities, as parts of cargoes, and are sold to -the large dealers by weight. Conch shells are sold at 8_s._ per cwt.; -cowries and clams from 10_s._ to 12_s._ per cwt.; the green snail, -used for inlaying, fetches from 1_l._ to 1_l._ 10_s._ per cwt.; and -the ear shell, on account of its superior quality and richer variety -of colours, as much as 3_l._ and 5_l._ per cwt. The conches are found -only among the West India Islands, and are used principally for garden -ornaments and grotto-work. The others come principally from the Indian -Ocean and the China seas, and are used as well for chimney ornaments, -as for inlaying, for the tops of work-tables and other ornamental -furniture. - -The shells which are considered of the most value are almost invariably -small, and of an endless variety of shape. They are called “cabinet” -shells, and are brought from all parts of the world--land as well as -sea--lakes, rivers, and oceans furnishing specimens to the collection. -The Australian forests are continually ransacked to bring to light new -varieties. I have been informed that there is not a river in England -but contains valuable shells; that even in the Thames there are shells -worth from 10_s._ to 1_l._ each. I have been shown a shell of the snail -kind, found in the woods of New Holland, and purchased by a dealer for -2_l._, and on which he confidently reckoned to make a considerable -profit. - -Although “cabinet” shells are collected from all parts, yet by far the -greater number come from the Indian Ocean. They are generally collected -by the natives, who sell them to captains and mates of vessels trading -to those parts, and very often to sailors, all of whom frequently -speculate to a considerable extent in these things, and have no -difficulty in disposing of them as soon as they arrive in this country, -for there is not a shell dealer in London who has not a regular staff -of persons stationed at Gravesend to board the homeward-bound ships at -the Nore, and sometimes as far off as the Downs, for the purpose of -purchasing shells. It usually happens that when three or four of these -persons meet on board the same ship, an animated competition takes -place, so that the shells on board are generally bought up long before -the ship arrives at London. Many persons from this country go out to -various parts of the world for the sole purpose of procuring shells, -and they may be found from the western coast of Africa to the shores -of New South Wales, along the Persian Gulf, in Ceylon, the Malaccas, -China, and the Islands of the Pacific, where they employ the natives in -dredging the bed of the ocean, and are by this means continually adding -to the almost innumerable varieties which are already known. - -To show the extraordinary request in which shells are held in almost -every place, while I was in the shop of Mr. J. C. Jamrach, naturalist, -and agent to the Zoological Society at Amsterdam--one of the largest -dealers in London, and to whom I am indebted for much valuable -information on this subject--a person, a native of High Germany, was -present. He had arrived in London the day before, and had purchased on -that day a collection of shells of a low quality for which he paid Mr. -Jamrach 36_l._; to this he added a few birds. Placing his purchase in -a box furnished with a leather strap, he slung it over his shoulder, -shook hands with Mr. Jamrach, and departed. Mr. Jamrach informed me -that the next morning he was to start by steam for Rotterdam, then -continue his journey up the Rhine to a certain point, from whence he -was to travel on foot from one place to another, till he could dispose -of his commodities; after which he would return to London, as the great -mart for a fresh supply. He was only a very poor man, but there are -a great many others far better off, continually coming backwards and -forwards, who are able to purchase a larger stock of shells and birds, -and who, in the course of their peregrinations, wander through the -greater part of Germany, extending their excursions sometimes through -Austria, the Tyrol, and the north of Italy. A visit to the premises of -Mr. Jamrach, Ratcliff-highway, or Mr. Samuel, Upper East Smithfield, -would well repay the curious observer. The front portion of Mr. -Jamrach’s house is taken up with a wonderful variety of strange birds -that keep up an everlasting screaming; in another portion of the house -are collected confusedly together heaps of nondescript articles, which -might appear to the uninitiated worth little or nothing, but on which -the possessor places great value. In a yard behind the house, immured -in iron cages, are some of the larger species of birds, and some -beautiful varieties of foreign animals--while in large presses ranged -round the other rooms, and furnished with numerous drawers, are placed -his real valuables, the cabinet shells. The establishment of Mr. Samuel -is equally curious. - -In London, the dealers in shells, keeping shops for the sale of them, -amount to no more than ten; they are all doing a large business, and -are men of good capital, which may be proved by the following quotation -from the day-books of one of the class for the present year, viz.:-- - - Shells sold in February £275 0 0 - Ditto, ditto, March 471 0 0 - Ditto, ditto, April 1389 0 0 - Ditto, ditto, May 475 0 0 - ------------- - Total £2610 0 0 - ------------- - Profit on same, February £75 12 0 - Ditto, ditto, March 140 0 0 - Ditto, ditto, April 323 0 0 - Ditto, ditto, May 127 0 0 - ------------- - Total £665 12 0 - -Besides these there are about 20 private dealers who do not keep -shops, but who nevertheless do a considerable business in this line -among persons at the West End of London. All shell dealers add to that -occupation the sale of foreign birds and curiosities. - -There is yet another class of persons who seem to be engaged in the -sale of shells, but it is only seeming. They are dressed as sailors, -and appear at all times to have just come ashore after a long voyage, -as a man usually follows them with that sort of canvas bag in use among -sailors, in which they stow away their clothes; the men themselves -go on before carrying a parrot or some rare bird in one hand, and in -the other a large shell. These men are the “duffers” of whom I have -spoken in my account of the sale of foreign birds. They make shells a -more frequent medium for the introduction of their real avocation, as -a shell is a far less troublesome thing either to hawk or keep by them -than a parrot. - -I now give a description of these men, as general duffers, and from -good authority. - -“They are known by the name of ‘_duffers_,’ and have an exceedingly -cunning mode of transacting their business. They are all united in some -secret bond; they have persons also bound to them, who are skilled -in making shawls in imitation of those imported from China, and who, -according to the terms of their agreement, must not work for any other -persons. The duffers, from time to time, furnish these persons with -designs for shawls, such as cannot be got in this country, which, -when completed, they (the duffers) conceal about their persons, and -start forward on their travels. They contrive to gain admission to -respectable houses by means of shells and sometimes of birds, which -they purchase from the regular dealers, but always those of a low -quality; after which they contrive to introduce the shawls, their real -business, for which they sometimes have realized prices varying from -5_l._ to 20_l._ In many instances, the cheat is soon discovered, when -the duffers immediately decamp, to make place for a fresh batch, who -have been long enough out of London to make their faces unknown to -their former victims. These remain till they also find danger threaten -them, when they again start away, and others immediately take their -place. While away from London, they travel through all parts of the -country, driving a good trade among the country gentlemen’s houses; and -sometimes visiting the seaports, such as Liverpool, Portsmouth, and -Plymouth.” - -An instance of the skill with which the duffers sometimes do business, -is the following. One of these persons some time ago came into the -shop of a shell dealer, having with him a beautiful specimen of a -three-coloured cockatoo, for which he asked 10_l._ The shell dealer -declined the purchase at that price, saying, that he sold these birds -at 4_l._ a piece, but offered to give 3_l._ 10_s._ for it, which was -at once accepted; while pocketing the money, the man remarked that -he had paid ten guineas for that bird. The shell dealer, surprised -that so good a judge should be induced to give so much more than the -value of the bird, was desirous of hearing further, when the duffer -made this statement:--“I went the other day to a gentleman’s house, -he was an old officer, where I saw this bird, and, in order to get -introduced, I offered to purchase it. The gentleman said he knew it was -a valuable bird, and couldn’t think of taking less than ten guineas. I -then offered to barter for it, and produced a shawl, for which I asked -twenty-five guineas, but offered to take fifteen guineas and the bird. -This was at length agreed to, and now, having sold it for 3_l._ 10_s._, -it makes 19_l._ 5_s._ I got for the shawl, and not a bad day’s work -either.” - -Of shells there are about a million of the commoner sorts bought by the -London street-sellers at 3_s._ the gross. They are retailed at 1_d._ -apiece, or 12_s._ the gross, when sold separately; a large proportion, -as is the case with many articles of taste or curiosity rather than of -usefulness, being sold by the London street-folk on country rounds; -some of these rounds stretch half-way to Bristol or to Liverpool. - - -OF THE RIVER BEER-SELLERS, OR PURL-MEN. - -There is yet another class of itinerant dealers who, if not traders -in the streets, are traders in what was once termed the silent -highway--the river beer-sellers, or purl-men, as they are more commonly -called. These should strictly have been included among the sellers of -eatables and drinkables; they have, however, been kept distinct, being -a peculiar class, and having little in common with the other out-door -sellers. - -I will begin my account of the river-sellers by enumerating the -numerous classes of labourers, amounting to many thousands, who get -their living by plying their respective avocations on the river, and -who constitute the customers of these men. There are first the sailors -on board the corn, coal, and timber ships; then the “lumpers,” or -those engaged in discharging the timber ships; the “stevedores,” or -those engaged in stowing craft; and the “riggers,” or those engaged -in rigging them; ballast-heavers, ballast-getters, corn-porters, -coal-whippers, watermen and lightermen, and coal-porters, who, although -engaged in carrying sacks of coal from the barges or ships at the -river’s side to the shore, where there are public-houses, nevertheless, -when hard worked and pressed for time, frequently avail themselves of -the presence of the purl-man to quench their thirst, and to stimulate -them to further exertion. - -It would be a remarkable circumstance if the fact of so many persons -continually employed in severe labour, and who, of course, are at -times in want of refreshment, had not called into existence a class to -supply that which was evidently required; under one form or the other, -therefore, river-dealers boast of an antiquity as old as the naval -commerce of the country. - -The prototype of the river beer-seller of the present day is the -bumboat-man. Bumboats (or rather _Baum_-boats, that is to say, the -boats of the harbour, from the German _Baum_, a haven or bar) are known -in every port where ships are obliged to anchor at a distance from the -shore. They are stored with a large assortment of articles, such as are -likely to be required by people after a long voyage. Previously to the -formation of the various docks on the Thames, they were very numerous -on the river, and drove a good trade with the homeward-bound shipping. -But since the docks came into requisition, and steam-tugs brought the -ships from the mouth of the river to the dock entrance, their business -died away, and they gradually disappeared; so that a bumboat on the -Thames at the present day would be a sort of curiosity, a relic of -times past. - -In former times it was _not_ in the power of any person who chose to -follow the calling of a bumboat man on the Thames. The Trinity Company -had the power of granting licences for this purpose. Whether they were -restrained by some special clause in their charter, or not, from giving -licences indiscriminately, it is difficult to say. But it is certain -that none got a licence but a sailor--one who had “served his country;” -and it was quite common in those days to see an old fellow with a pair -of wooden legs, perhaps blind of an eye, or wanting an arm, and with -a face rugged as a rock, plying about among the shipping, accompanied -by a boy whose duty it was to carry the articles to the purchasers on -shipboard, and help in the management of the boat. In the first or -second year of the reign of her present Majesty, however, when the -original bumboat-men had long degenerated into the mere beer-sellers, -and any one who wished traded in this line on the river (the Trinity -Company having for many years paid no attention to the matter), an -inquiry took place, which resulted in a regulation that all the -beer-sellers or purl-men should thenceforward be regularly licensed -for the river-sale of beer and spirits from the Waterman’s Hall, which -regulation is in force to the present time. - -It appears to have been the practice at some time or other in this -country to infuse wormwood into beer or ale previous to drinking it, -either to make it sufficiently bitter, or for some medicinal purpose. -This mixture was called _purl_--why I know not, but Bailey, the -philologist of the seventeenth century, so designates it. The drink -originally sold on the river was purl, or this mixture, whence the -title, purl-man. Now, however, the wormwood is unknown; and what is -sold under the name of purl is beer warmed nearly to boiling heat, and -flavoured with gin, sugar, and ginger. The river-sellers, however, -still retain the name, of _purl_-men, though there is not one of them -with whom I have conversed that has the remotest idea of the meaning of -it. - -To set up as a purl-man, some acquaintance with the river, and a -certain degree of skill in the management of a boat, are absolutely -necessary; as, from the frequently-crowded state of the pool, and -the rapidity with which the steamers pass and repass, twisting and -wriggling their way through craft of every description, the unskilful -adventurer would run in continual danger of having his boat crushed -like a nutshell. The purl-men, however, through long practice, are -scarcely inferior to the watermen themselves in the management of their -boats; and they may be seen at all times easily working their way -through every obstruction, now shooting athwart the bows of a Dutch -galliot or sailing-barge, then dropping astern to allow a steam-boat -to pass till they at length reach the less troubled waters between the -tiers of shipping. - -The first thing required to become a purl-man is to procure a licence -from the Waterman’s Hall, which costs 3_s._ 6_d._ per annum. The next -requisite is the possession of a boat. The boats used are all in the -form of skiffs, rather short, but of a good breadth, and therefore -less liable to capsize through the swell of the steamers, or through -any other cause. Thus equipped he then goes to some of the small -breweries, where he gets two “pins,” or small casks of beer, each -containing eighteen pots; after this he furnishes himself with a quart -or two of gin from some publican, which he carries in a tin vessel -with a long neck, like a bottle--an iron or tin vessel to hold the -fire, with holes drilled all round to admit the air and keep the fuel -burning, and a huge bell, by no means the least important portion of -his fit out. Placing his two pins of beer on a frame in the stern of -the boat, the spiles loosened and the brass cocks fitted in, and with -his tin gin bottle close to his hand beneath the seat, two or three -measures of various sizes, a black tin pot for heating the beer, and -his fire pan secured on the bottom of the boat, and sending up a black -smoke, he takes his seat early in the morning and pulls away from -the shore, resting now and then on his oars, to ring the heavy bell -that announces his approach. Those on board the vessels requiring -refreshment, when they hear the bell, hail “Purl ahoy;” in an instant -the oars are resumed, and the purl-man is quickly alongside the ship. - -The bell of the purl-man not unfrequently performs another very -important office. During the winter, when dense fogs settle down on -the river, even the regular watermen sometimes lose themselves, and -flounder about bewildered perhaps for hours. The direction once lost, -their shouting is unheeded or unheard. The purl-man’s bell, however, -reaches the ear through the surrounding gloom, and indicates his -position; when near enough to hear the hail of his customers, he makes -his way unerringly to the spot by now and then sounding his bell; this -is immediately answered by another shout, so that in a short time the -glare of his fire may be distinguished as he emerges from the darkness, -and glides noiselessly alongside the ship where he is wanted. - -The amount of capital necessary to start in the purl line may -be as follows:--I have said that the boats are all of the skiff -kind--generally old ones, which they patch up and repair at but little -cost. They purchase these boats at from 3_l._ to 6_l._ each. If we take -the average of these two sums, the items will be-- - - £ _s._ _d._ - Boat 4 10 0 - Pewter measures 0 5 0 - Warming-pot 0 1 6 - Fire stove 0 5 0 - Gallon can 0 2 6 - Two pins of beer 0 8 0 - Quart of gin 0 2 6 - Sugar and ginger 0 1 0 - Licence 0 3 6 - ----------- - Total £5 19 0 - -Thus it requires, at the very least, a capital of 6_l._ to set up as a -purl-man. - -Since the Waterman’s Hall has had the granting of licences, there have -been upwards of 140 issued; but out of the possessors of these many are -dead, some have left for other business, and others are too old and -feeble to follow the occupation any longer, so that out of the whole -number there remain only 35 purl-men on the river, and these are thus -divided:--23 ply their trade in what is called “the pool,” that is, -from Execution Dock to Ratcliff Cross, among the coal-laden ships, and -do a tolerable business amongst the sailors and the hard-working and -thirsty coal-whippers; 8 purl-men follow their calling from Execution -Dock to London Bridge, and sell their commodity among the ships loaded -with corn, potatoes, &c.; and 4 are known to frequent the various -reaches below Limehouse Hole, where the colliers are obliged to lie at -times in sections, waiting till they are sold on the Coal Exchange, -and some even go down the river as far as the ballast-lighters of the -Trinity Company, for the purpose of supplying the ballast-getters. The -purl-men cannot sell much to the unfortunate ballast-heavers, for they -are suffering under all the horrors of an abominable truck system, and -are compelled to take from the publicans about Wapping and Shadwell, -who are their employers, large quantities of filthy stuff compounded -especially for their use, for which they are charged exorbitant prices, -being thus and in a variety of other ways mercilessly robbed of their -earnings, so that they and their families are left in a state of almost -utter destitution. One of the purl-men, whose boat is No. 44, has hoops -like those used by gipsies for pitching their tents; these he fastens -to each side of the boat, over which he draws a tarred canvas covering, -water-proof, and beneath this he sleeps the greater part of the year, -seldom going ashore except for the purpose of getting a fresh supply -of liquors for trade, or food for himself. He generally casts anchor -in some unfrequented nook down the river, where he enjoys all the -quiet of a Thames hermit, after the labour of the day. To obtain the -necessary heat during the winter, he fits a funnel to his fire-stove to -carry away the smoke, and thus warmed he sleeps away in defiance of the -severest weather. - -It appears from the facts above given that 210_l._ is the gross amount -of capital employed in this business. On an average all the year round -each purl-man sells two “pins” of beer weekly, independent of gin; but -little gin is thus sold in the summer, but in the winter a considerable -quantity of it is used in making the purl. The men purchase the beer at -4_s._ per pin, and sell it at 4_d._ per pot, which leaves them a profit -of 4_s._ on the two pins, and, allowing them 6_d._ per day profit on -the gin, it gives 1_l._ 7_s._ per week profit to each, or a total to -all hands of 47_l._ 5_s._ per week, and a gross total of 2457_l._ -profit made on the sale of 98,280 gallons of beer, beside gin sold on -the Thames in the course of the year. From this amount must be deducted -318_l._ 10_s._, which is paid to boys, at the rate of 3_s._ 6_d._ per -week; it being necessary for each purl-man to employ a lad to take care -of the boat while he is on board the ships serving his customers, or -traversing the tiers. This deduction being made leaves 61_l._ 2_s._ per -annum to each purl-man as the profit on his year’s trading. - -The present race of purl-men, unlike the weather-beaten tars who -in former times alone were licensed, are generally young men, who -have been in the habit of following some river employment, and who, -either from some accident having befallen them in the course of their -work, or from their preferring the easier task of sitting in their -boat and rowing leisurely about to continuous labour, have started in -the line, and ultimately superseded the old river dealers. This is -easily explained. No man labouring on the river would purchase from a -stranger when he knew that his own fellow-workman was afloat, and was -prepared to serve him with as good an article; besides he might not -have money, and a stranger could not be expected to give trust, but his -old acquaintance would make little scruple in doing so. In this way -the customers of the purl-men are secured; and many of these people do -so much more than the average amount of business above stated, that it -is no unusual thing to see some of them, after four or five years on -the river, take a public-house, spring up into the rank of licensed -victuallers, and finally become men of substance. - -I conversed with one who had been a coal-whipper. He stated that he had -met with an accident while at work which prevented him from following -coal-whipping any longer. He had fallen from the ship’s side into a -barge, and was for a long time in the hospital. When he came out he -found he could not work, and had no other prospect before him but the -union. “I thought I’d be by this time toes up in Stepney churchyard,” -he said, “and grinning at the lid of an old coffin.” In this extremity -a neighbour, a waterman, who had long known him, advised him to take -to the purl business, and gave him not only the advice, but sufficient -money to enable him to put it in practice. The man accordingly got a -boat, and was soon afloat among his old workmates. In this line he now -makes out a living for himself and his family, and reckons himself able -to clear, one week with the other, from 18_s._ to 20_s._ “I should do -much better,” he said, “if people would only pay what they owe; but -there are some who never think of paying anything.” He has between -10_l._ and 20_l._ due to him, and never expects to get a farthing of it. - -The following is the form of licence issued by the Watermen’s Company:-- - - INCORPORATED 1827. - - BUMBOAT. - - Height 5 feet 8 } - inches, 30 years } - of age, dark } - hair, sallow complexion. } - } - 2nd & 3rd Vic. } - cap. 47, sec. 25. } - - I hereby certify that of , in the parish of in the - county of Middlesex, is this day registered in a book of the Company - of the Master, Wardens, and Commonalty of Watermen and Lightermen of - the river Thames, kept for that purpose, to use, work, or navigate - a boat called a skiff, named , number , for the purpose of - selling, disposing of, or exposing for sale to and amongst the seamen, - or other persons employed in and about any of the ships or vessels - upon the said river, any liquors, slops, or other articles whatsoever, - between London Bridge and Limehouse Hole; but the said boat is not to - be used on the said river for any other purpose than the aforesaid. - - Waterman’s Hall, - - JAS. BANYON, _Clerk_. - -Beside the regular purl-men, or, as they may be called, bumboat-men, -there are two or three others who, perhaps unable to purchase a boat, -and take out the licence, have nevertheless for a number of years -contrived to carry on a traffic in spirits among the ships in the -Thames. Their practice is to carry a flat tin bottle concealed about -their person, with which they go on board the first ship in a tier, -where they are well known by those who may be there employed. If the -seamen wish for any spirit the river-vendor immediately supplies it, -entering the name of the customers served, as none of the vendors ever -receive, at the time of sale, any money for what they dispose of; they -keep an account till their customers receive their wages, when they -always contrive to be present, and in general succeed in getting what -is owing to them. What their profits are it is impossible to tell, -perhaps they may equal those of the regular purl-man, for they go on -board of almost every ship in the course of the day. When their tin -bottle is empty they go on shore to replenish it, doing so time after -time if necessary. - -It is remarkable that although these people are perfectly well known to -every purl-man on the river, who have seen them day by day, for many -years going on board the various ships, and are thoroughly cognizant -of the purpose of their visits, there has never been any information -laid against them, nor have they been in any way interrupted in their -business. - -There is one of these river spirit-sellers who has pursued the -avocation for the greater part of his life; he is a native of the -south of Ireland, now very old, and a little shrivelled-up man. He may -still be seen every day, going from ship to ship by scrambling over -the quarters where they are lashed together in tiers--a feat sometimes -attended with danger to the young and strong; yet he works his way -with the agility of a man of 20, gets on board the ship he wants, and -when there, were he not so well known, he might be thought to be some -official sent to take an inventory of the contents of the ship, for he -has at all times an ink-bottle hanging from one of his coat buttons, a -pen stuck over his ear, spectacles on his nose, a book in his hand, and -really has all the appearance of a man determined on doing business of -some sort or other. He possesses a sort of ubiquity, for go where you -will through any part of the pool you are sure to meet him. He seems to -be expected everywhere; no one appears to be surprised at his presence. -Captains and mates pass him by unnoticed and unquestioned. As suddenly -as he comes does he disappear, to start up in some other place. His -visits are so regular, that it would scarcely look like being on board -ship if “old D----, the whiskey man,” as he is called, did not make his -appearance some time during the day, for he seems to be in some strange -way identified with the river, and with every ship that frequents it. - - - - -OF THE NUMBERS, CAPITAL, AND INCOME OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF -SECOND-HAND ARTICLES, LIVE ANIMALS, MINERAL PRODUCTIONS, ETC. - - -The hawkers of second-hand articles, live animals, mineral productions, -and natural curiosities, form, as we have seen, large important -classes of the street-sellers. According to the facts already given, -there appear to be at present in the streets, 90 sellers of metal -wares, including the sellers of second-hand trays and Italian-irons; -30 sellers of old linen, as wrappers and towelling; 80 vendors of -second-hand (burnt) linen and calico; 30 sellers of curtains; 30 -sellers of carpeting, &c.; 30 sellers of bed-ticking, &c.; 6 sellers -of old crockery and glass; 25 sellers of old musical instruments; -6 vendors of second-hand weapons; 6 sellers of old curiosities; 6 -vendors of telescopes and pocket glasses; 30 to 40 sellers of other -miscellaneous second-hand articles; 100 sellers of men’s second-hand -clothes; 30 sellers of old boots and shoes; 15 vendors of old hats; -50 sellers of women’s second-hand apparel; 30 vendors of second-hand -bonnets, and 10 sellers of old furs; 116 sellers of second-hand -articles at Smithfield-market;--making altogether 725 street-sellers of -second-hand commodities. - -But some of the above trades are of a temporary character only, as in -the case of the vendors of old linen towelling or wrappers, carpets, -bed-ticking, &c.--the same persons who sell the one often selling the -others; the towels and wrappers, moreover, are offered for sale only on -the Monday and Saturday nights. Assuming, then, that upwards of 100 or -one-sixth of the above number sell two different second-hand articles, -or are not continually employed at that department of street-traffic, -we find the total number of street-sellers belonging to this class to -be about 500. - -Concerning the number selling live animals in the streets, there are -50 men vending fancy and sporting dogs; 200 sellers and “duffers” -of English birds; 10 sellers of parrots and other foreign birds; 3 -sellers of birds’-nests, &c.; 20 vendors of squirrels; 6 sellers of -leverets and wild rabbits; 35 vendors of gold and silver fish; 20 -vendors of tortoises; and 14 sellers of snails, frogs, worms, &c.; or, -allowing for the temporary and mixed character of many of these trades, -we may say that there are 200 constantly engaged in this branch of -street-commerce. - -Then of the street-sellers of mineral productions and natural -curiosities, there are 216 vendors of coals; 1500 sellers of coke; -14 sellers of tan-turf; 150 vendors of salt; 70 sellers of sand; 26 -sellers of shells; or 1969 in all. From this number the sellers of -shells must be deducted, as the shell-trade is not a special branch of -street-traffic. We may, therefore, assert that the number of people -engaged in this latter class of street-business amounts to about 1900. - -Now, adding all these sums together, we have the following table as to -the numbers of individuals comprised in the _first_ division of the -London street-folk, viz. the street-sellers:-- - - 1. Costermongers (including men, - women, and children engaged in the - sale of fish, fruit, vegetables, game, - poultry, flowers, &c.) 30,000 - 2. Street-sellers of “green stuff,” - including water-cresses, chickweed - and gru’n’sel, turf, &c. 2,000 - 3. Street-sellers of eatables and - drinkables 4,000 - 4. Street-sellers of stationery, literature, - and fine arts 1,000 - 5. Street-sellers of manufactured - articles of metal, crockery, glass, textile, - chemical, and miscellaneous substances 4,000 - 6. Street-sellers of second-hand - articles, including the sellers of old - metal articles, old glass, old linen, old - clothes, old shoes, &c. 500 - 7. Street-sellers of live animals, as - dogs, birds, gold and silver fish, squirrels, - leverets, tortoises, snails, &c. 200 - 8. Street-sellers of mineral productions - and natural curiosities, as coals, - coke, tan-turf, salt, sand, shells, &c. 1,900 - ______ - TOTAL NUMBER OF STREET-SELLERS 43,640 - -These numbers, it should be remembered, are given rather as an -approximation to the truth than as the absolute fact. It would -therefore be safer to say, making all due allowance for the temporary -and mixed character of many branches of street-commerce, that there -are about 40,000 people engaged in selling articles in the streets -of London. I am induced to believe that this is very near the real -number of street-sellers, from the _wholesale_ returns of the places -where the street-sellers purchase their goods, and which I have always -made a point of collecting from the best authorities connected with -the various branches of street-traffic. The statistics of the fish -and green markets, the swag-shops, the old clothes exchange, the -bird-dealers, which I have caused to be collected for the first time in -this country, all tend to corroborate this estimate. - -The next fact to be evolved is the amount of capital invested in the -street-sale of Second-hand Articles, of Live Animals, and of Mineral -Productions. And, first, as to the money employed in the Second-hand -Street-Trade. - -The following tables will show the amount of capital invested in this -branch of street-business. - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Metal Wares._ - - 30 stalls, 5_s._ each; 20 barrows, 1_l._ £ _s._ _d._ - each; stock-money for 50 vendors, at - 10_s._ per head 52 10 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Metal Trays._ - - Stock-money for 20 sellers, at 5_s._ 5 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of other Second-hand Metal Articles, - as Italian and Flat Irons._ - - Stock-money for 20 vendors, at 5_s._ - each; 20 stalls, at 3_s._ each 8 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Linen, &c._ - - Stock-money for 30 vendors, at 5_s._ per head 7 10 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand (burnt) Linen and - Calico._ - - Stock-money for 80 vendors, at 10_s._ each 40 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Curtains._ - - Stock-money for 30 sellers, at 5_s._ each 7 10 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Carpeting, Flannels, - Stocking-legs, &c._ - - Stock-money for 30 sellers, at 6_s._ each 9 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Bed-ticking, - Sacking, Fringe, &c._ - - Stock-money for 30 sellers, at 4_s._ each 6 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Glass and Crockery._ - - 6 barrows, 15_s._ each; 6 baskets, - 1_s._ 6_d._ each; stock-money for 6 vendors, - at 5_s._ each 6 9 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Miscellaneous - Articles._ - - Stock-money for 5 vendors, at 15_s._ each 3 15 0 - - _Street-Sellers and Duffers of Second-hand Music._ - - Stock-money for 25 sellers, at 1_l._ each 25 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Weapons._ - - Stock-money for 6 vendors, at 1_l._ each 6 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Curiosities._ - - 6 barrows, 15_s._ each; stock-money - for 6 vendors, at 15_s._ per head 9 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Telescopes and - Pocket-Glasses._ - - Stock-money for 6 vendors, at 4_l._ each 24 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of other Miscellaneous Articles._ - - 30 stalls, 5_s._ each; stock-money for - 30 sellers, at 15_s._ each 30 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Men’s Second-hand Clothes._ - - 100 linen bags, at 2_s._ each; stock-money - for 100 sellers, at 15_s._ each 85 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Boots and Shoes._ - - 10 stalls, at 3_s._ each; 30 baskets, at - 2_s._ 6_d._ each; stock-money for 30 - sellers, at 10_s._ each 20 5 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Hats._ - - 30 irons, two to each man, at 2_s._ each; - 60 blocks, at 1_s._ 6_d._ per block; stock-money - for 15 vendors, at 10_s._ each 15 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Women’s Second-hand Apparel._ - - Stock-money for 50 sellers, at 10_s._ - each; 50 baskets, at 2_s._ 6_d._ each 31 5 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Bonnets._ - - 10 umbrellas, at 3_s._ each; 30 baskets, - at 2_s._ 6_d._ each; stock-money - for 30 sellers, at 5_s._ each 12 15 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Furs._ - - Stock-money for 10 vendors, at - 7_s._ 6_d._ each 3 15 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Articles in - Smithfield-market._ - - 30 sellers of harness sets and collars, - at an average capital of 15_s._ each; - 6 sellers of saddles and pads, at 15_s._ - each; 10 sellers of bits, at 3_s._ each; 6 - sellers of wheel-springs and trays, at - 15_s._ each; 6 sellers of boards and - trestles for stalls, at 10_s._ each; 20 - sellers of barrows, small carts, and - trucks, at 5_l._ each; 6 sellers of goat - carriages, at 3_l._ each; 6 sellers of - shooting galleries and guns for ditto, - and drums for costers, at 15_s._ each; - 10 sellers of measures, weights, and - scales, at 25_s._ each; 5 sellers of potato - cans and roasted-chestnut apparatus, - at 5_l._ each; 3 sellers of ginger-beer - trucks, at 5_l._ each; 6 sellers of - pea-soup cans and pickled-eel kettles, - 15_s._ each; 2 sellers of elder-wine - vessels, at 15_s._ each. Thus we find - that the average number of street-sellers - frequenting Smithfield-market - once a week is 116, and the average - capital 217 0 0 - -------------- - TOTAL AMOUNT OF CAPITAL BELONGING - TO STREET-SELLERS OF - SECOND-HAND ARTICLES 621 14 0 - - -STREET-SELLERS OF LIVE ANIMALS. - - _Street-Sellers of Dogs._ - - Stock-money for 20 sellers (including - kennels and keep), at 5_l._ 15_s._ - each seller 115 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers and Duffers of Birds (English)._ - - 2400 small cages (reckoning 12 to - each seller), at 6_d._ each; 1200 long - cages (allowing 6 cages to each seller), - at 2_s._ each; 1800 large cages (averaging - 9 cages to each seller), at 2_s._ 6_d._ - each. Stock-money for 200 sellers, at - 20_s._ each 605 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Parrots, &c._ - - 20 cages, at 10_s._ each; stock-money - for 10 sellers, at 30_s._ each 25 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Birds’-Nests._ - - 3 hamper baskets, at 6_d._ each 1 6 - - _Street-Sellers of Squirrels._ - - Stock-money for 20 vendors, at 10_s._ each 10 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Leverets, Wild Rabbits, &c._ - - 6 baskets, at 2_s._ each; stock-money - for 6 vendors, at 5_s._ each 2 2 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Gold and Silver Fish._ - - 35 glass globes, at 2_s._ each; 35 - small nets, at 6_d._ each; stock-money - for 35 vendors, at 15_s._ each 30 12 6 - - _Street-Sellers of Tortoises._ - - Stock-money for 20 vendors, at 10_s._ each 25 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Snails, Frogs, Worms, Snakes, - Hedgehogs, &c._ - - 14 baskets, at 1_s._ each 14 0 - -------------- - TOTAL AMOUNT OF CAPITAL BELONGING - TO STREET-SELLERS OF LIVE - ANIMALS 798 10 0 - - -STREET-SELLERS OF MINERAL PRODUCTIONS AND NATURAL CURIOSITIES. - - _Street-Sellers of Coals._ - - 30 two-horse vans, at 70_l._ each; 100 - horses, at 20_l._ each; 100 carts, at 10_l._ - each; 160 horses, at 10_l._ each; 20 - donkey or pony carts, at 1_l._ each; 20 - donkeys or ponies, at 1_l._ 10_s._ each; - 210 sets of weights and scales, at - 1_l._ 10_s._ each; stock-money for 210 - vendors, at 2_l._ each 7,485 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Coke._ - - 100 vans, at 70_l._ each; 100 horses, - at 20_l._ each; 300 carts, at 10_l._ each; - 300 horses, at 10_l._ each; 500 donkey-carts, - at 1_l._ each; 500 donkeys, at 1_l._ - each; 200 trucks and barrows, at 10_s._ - each; 4800 sacks for the 100 vans, at - 3_s._ 6_d._ each; 3600 sacks for the 300 - carts; 3000 sacks for the 500 donkey - carts; 1652 sacks for the 550 - trucks and barrows; 300 sacks for - the 50 women; stock-money for 1500 - vendors, at 1_l._ per head 19,936 12 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Tan-Turf._ - - 12 donkeys and carts, at 2_l._ each; - 2 trucks, at 15_s._ each; stock-money - for 14 vendors, at 10_s._ each 32 10 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Salt._ - - 75 donkeys and carts, at 2_l._ 5_s._ - each; 75 barrows, at 10_s._ each; - stock-money for 150 vendors, at 6_s._ - each 251 5 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Sand._ - - 20 horses, at 10_l._ each; 20 carts, - at 3_l._ each; 60 baskets, at 2_s._ each; - wages of 30 men, at 3_s._ per day for - each; expenses for keep of 20 horses, - at 10_s._ per head; estimated stock-money - for 30 sellers, at 5_s._ each; 40 - barrows, at 15_s._ each; stock-money - for the barrow-men, at 1_s._ 6_d._ each 320 5 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Shells._ - - Stock-money for 70 vendors, at 5_s._ - each 17 10 0 - ----------------- - TOTAL CAPITAL BELONGING TO - STREET-SELLERS OF MINERAL PRODUCTIONS, - ETC. 28,043 2 0 - - _River-Sellers of Purl._ - - 35 boats, at 4_l._ 10_s._ each; 35 sets - of measures, at 5_s._ the set; 35 warming - pots, at 1_s._ 6_d._ each; 35 fire-stoves, - at 5_s._ each; 35 gallon cans, at 2_s._ 6_d._ - each; 70 “pins” of beer, at 4_s._ per - “pin;” 35 quarts of gin, at 2_s._ 6_d._ - the quart; 35 licences, at 3_s._ 6_d._; - stock-money for spice, &c., at 1_s._ each 208 5 0 - -Hence it would appear that the gross amount of property belonging to -the street-sellers may be reckoned as follows:-- - - Value of stock-in-trade belonging - to costermongers 25,000 0 0 - - Ditto street-sellers of green-stuff 149 0 0 - - Ditto street-sellers of eatables - and drinkables 9,000 0 0 - - Ditto street-sellers of stationery, - literature, and the fine arts 400 0 0 - - Ditto street-sellers of manufactured - articles 2,800 0 0 - - Ditto street-sellers of second-hand - articles 621 14 0 - - Ditto street-sellers of live animals 798 10 0 - - Ditto street-sellers of mineral - productions, &c. 28,043 2 0 - - Ditto river-sellers of purl 208 5 0 - ---------------- - TOTAL AMOUNT OF CAPITAL BELONGING - TO THE LONDON STREET-SELLERS 67,023 11 0 - -The gross value of the stock in trade of the London street-sellers may -then be estimated at about 60,000_l._ - - -INCOME, OR “TAKINGS,” OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF SECOND-HAND ARTICLES. - -We have now to estimate the receipts of each of the above-mentioned -classes. - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Metal Wares._ - - I was told by several in this trade £ _s._ _d._ - that there were 200 old metal sellers - in the streets, but, from the best information - at my command, not more - than 50 appear to be strictly _street_-sellers, - unconnected with shopkeeping. - Estimating a weekly receipt, - per individual, of 15_s._ (half being - profit), the yearly street outlay - among this body amounts to 1,950 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Metal-Trays, &c._ - - Calculating that 20 persons take in - the one or two nights’ sale 4_s._ a week - each, on second-hand trays (33 per - cent. being the rate of profit), the - street expenditure amounts yearly to 208 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of other Second-hand Metal Articles, - as Italian and Flat Irons, &c._ - - There are, I am informed, 20 persons - selling Italian and flat irons regularly - throughout the year in the - streets of London; each takes upon - an average 6s. weekly, which gives - an annual expenditure of upwards of 312 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Linen, &c._ - - There are at present 30 men and - women who sell towelling and canvas - wrappers in the streets on Saturday - and Monday nights, each taking - in the sale of those articles 9_s._ per - week, thus giving an annual outlay - of 702 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand (burnt) Linen and - Calico._ - - The most intelligent man whom I - met with in this trade calculated that - there were 80 of these second-hand - street-folk plying their trade two - nights in the week; and that they - took 8_s._ each weekly, about half of it - being profit; thus the annual street - expenditure would be 1,664 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Curtains._ - - From the best data at my command - there are 30 individuals who are engaged - in the street-sale of second-hand - curtains, and reckoning the - weekly takings of each to be 5_s._, we - find the yearly sum spent in the streets - upon second-hand curtains amounts to 390 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Carpeting, Flannels, - Stocking-legs, &c._ - - I am informed that the same persons - selling curtains sell also second-hand - carpeting, &c.; their weekly average - takings appear to be about 6_s._ each - in the sale of the above articles, thus - we have a yearly outlay of 468 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Bed-ticking, - Sacking, Fringe, &c._ - - The street-sellers of curtains, carpeting, - &c., of whom there are 30, - are also the street-sellers of bed-ticking, - sacking, fringe, &c. Their weekly - takings for the sale of these articles - amount to 4_s._ each. Hence we find - that the sum spent yearly in the - streets upon the purchase of bed-ticking, - &c., amounts to 312 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Glass and - Crockery._ - - Calculating that each of the six - dealers takes 12_s._ weekly, with a - profit of 6_s._ or 7_s._, we find there is - annually expended in this department - of street-commerce 187 4 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Miscellaneous - Articles._ - - From the best data I have been - able to obtain, it appears that there - are five street-sellers engaged in the - sale of these second-hand articles of - amusement, and the receipts of the - whole are 10_l._ weekly, about half - being profit, thus giving a yearly expenditure - of 520 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers and Duffers of Second-hand Music._ - - A broker who was engaged in this - traffic estimated--and an intelligent - street-seller agreed in the computation--that, - take the year through, at least - 25 individuals are regularly, but few - of them fully, occupied with this - traffic, and that their weekly takings - average 30_s._ each, or an aggregate - yearly amount of 1950_l._ The weekly - profits run from 10_s._ to 15_s._, and - sometimes the well-known dealers - clear 40_s._ or 50_s._ a week, while others - do not take 5_s._ 1,950 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Weapons._ - - In this traffic it may be estimated, - I am assured, that there are 20 men - engaged, each taking, as an average, 1_l._ - a week. In some weeks a man may - take 5_l._; in the next month he may - sell no weapons at all. From 30 to - 50 per cent. is the usual rate of profit, - and the yearly street outlay on these - second-hand offensive or defensive - weapons is 1,040 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Curiosities._ - - There are not now more than six - men who carry on this trade apart - from other commerce. Their average - takings are 15_s._ weekly each man, - about two-thirds being profit, or - yearly 234 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Telescopes and - Pocket-Glasses._ - - There are only six men at present - engaged in the sale of telescopes and - pocket-glasses, and their weekly - average takings are 30_s._ each, giving - a yearly expenditure in the streets of 468 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of other Second-hand Miscellaneous - Articles._ - - If we reckon that there are 30 - street-sellers carrying on a traffic in - second-hand miscellaneous articles, - and that each takes 10_s._ weekly, we - find the annual outlay in the streets - upon these articles amounts to 780 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Men’s Second-hand Clothes._ - - The street-sale of men’s second-hand - wearing apparel is carried on - principally by the Irish and others. - From the best information I can - gather, there appear to be upwards - of 1200 old clothes men buying - left-off apparel in the metropolis, - one-third of whom are Irish. There - are, however, not more than 100 of - these who sell in the streets the - articles they collect; the average-takings - of each of the sellers are - about 20_s._ weekly, their trading - being chiefly on the Saturday nights - and Sunday mornings. Their profits - are from 50 to 60 per cent. Estimating - the number of sellers at 100, - and their weekly takings at 20_s._ each, - we have an annual expenditure of 5,200 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Boots and Shoes._ - - There are at present about 30 individuals - engaged in the street-sale - of second-hand boots and shoes of all - kinds; some take as much as 30_s._ - weekly, while others do not take - more than half that amount; their - profits being about 50 per cent. - Reckoning that the weekly average - takings are 20_s._ each, we have a - yearly expenditure on second-hand - boots and shoes of 1,560 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Hats._ - - Throughout the year there are - not more than 15 men constantly - “working” this branch of street-traffic. - The average weekly gains - of each are about 10_s._, and in - order to clear that sum they must - take 20_s._ Hence the gross gains of - the class will be 390_l._ per annum, - while the sum yearly expended in the - streets upon second-hand hats will - amount altogether to 780 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Women’s Second-hand Apparel._ - - The number of persons engaged in - the street-sale of women’s second-hand - apparel is about 50, each of - whom take, upon an average, 15_s._ per - week; one-half of this is clear gain. - Thus we find the annual outlay in - the streets upon women’s second-hand - apparel is no less than 1,950 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Bonnets._ - - There are at present 30 persons - (nearly one-half of whom are milliners, - and the others street-sellers) who sell - second-hand straw and other bonnets; - some of these are placed in an umbrella - turned upside down, while - others are spread upon a wrapper on - the stones. The average takings of - this class of street-sellers are about - 12_s._ each per week, and their clear gains - not more than one-half, thus giving a - yearly expenditure of 936 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Furs._ - - During five months of the year there - are as many as 8 or 12 persons who - sell furs in the street-markets on - Saturday nights, Sunday mornings, - and Monday nights. The weekly - average takings of each is about 12_s._, - nearly three-fourths of which is clear - profit. Reckoning that 10 individuals - are engaged 20 weeks during the year, - and that each of these takes weekly - 12_s._, we find the sum annually - expended in the streets on furs - amounts to 120 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Second-hand Articles in Smithfield-market._ - - I am informed, by those who are in - a position to know, that there are sold - on an average every year in Smithfield-market - about 624 sets of harness, - at 14_s._ per set; 1560 collars, at 2_s._ - each; 686 pads, at 1_s._ each; 1560 - saddles, at 5_s._ each; 936 bits, at 6_d._ - each; 520 pair of wheels, at 10_s._ per - pair; 624 pair of springs, at 8_s._ 4_d._ - per pair; 832 pair of trestles, at - 2_s._ 6_d._ per pair; 520 boards, at 4_s._ - each; 1820 barrows, at 25_s._ each; - 312 trucks, at 50_s._ each; 208 trays, - at 1_s._ 3_d._ each; 1040 small carts, at - 63_s._ each; 156 goat-carriages, at 20_s._ - each; 520 shooting-galleries, at 14_s._ - each; 312 guns for shooting-galleries, - at 10_s._ each; 1040 drums for costers, - at 3_s._ each; 2080 measures, at 3_d._ - each; 2080 pair of large scales, at - 5_s._ per pair; 2080 pair of hand-scales, - at 5_d._ per pair; 30 roasted - chestnut-apparatus, at 20_s._ each; 100 - ginger-beer trucks, at 30_s._ each; 20 - eel-kettles, at 5_s._ each; 100 potato-cans, - at 17_s._ each; 10 pea-soup cans, - at 5_s._ each; 40 elderwine vessels, at - 8_s._ each; giving a yearly expenditure - of 10,242 3 8 - ----------------- - TOTAL SUM OF MONEY ANNUALLY - TAKEN BY THE STREET-SELLERS OF - SECOND-HAND ARTICLES 33,461 1 4 - - -STREET-SELLERS OF LIVE ANIMALS. - - _Street-Sellers of Dogs (Fancy Pets)._ - - From the best data it appears that - each hawker sells “four or five - occasionally in one week in the summer, - when trade’s brisk and days - are long, and only two or three - the next week, when trade may be - flat, and during each week in winter, - when there isn’t the same chance.” - Calculating, then, that seven dogs are - sold by each hawker in a fortnight, - at an average price of 50_s._ each - (many fetch 3_l._, 4_l._, and 5_l._), and supposing - that but 20 men are trading - in this line the year through, we - find that no less a sum is yearly expended - in this street-trade than 9,100 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Sporting Dogs._ - - The amount “turned over” in the - trade in sporting dogs yearly, in London, - is computed by the best informed - at about 12,000 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers and Duffers of Live Birds. - (English)._ - - There are in the metropolis 200 - street-sellers of English birds, who - may be said to sell among them 7000 - linnets, at 3_d._ each; 3000 bullfinches, - at 2_s._ 6_d._ each; 400 piping bullfinches, - at 63_s._ each; 7000 goldfinches, at - 9_d._ each; 1500 chaffinches, at 2_s._ 6_d._ - each; 700 greenfinches, at 3_d._ each; - 6000 larks, at 1_s._ each; 200 nightingales, - at 1_s._ each; 600 redbreasts, at - 1_s._ each; 3500 thrushes and thrustles, - at 2_s._ 6_d._ each; 1400 blackbirds, at - 2_s._ 6_d._ each; 1000 canaries, at 1_s._ - each; 10,000 sparrows, at 1_d._ each; - 1500 starlings, at 1_s._ 6_d._ each; 500 - magpies and jackdaws, at 9_d._ each; - 300 redpoles, at 9_d._ each; 150 blackcaps, - at 4_d._ each; 2000 “duffed” - birds, at 2_s._ 6_d._ each. Thus making - the sum annually expended in the - purchase of birds in the streets, - amount to 3,624 12 2 - - _Street-Sellers of Parrots, &c._ - - The number of individuals at present - hawking parrots and other foreign - birds in the streets is 10, who sell - among them during the year about - 500 birds. Reckoning each bird to - sell at 1_l._, we find the annual outlay - upon parrots bought in the streets to - be 500_l._; adding to this the sale of - 110 Java sparrows and St. Helena - birds, as Wax-bills and Red-beaks at - 1_s._ 6_d._ each, we have for the sum - yearly expended in the streets on the - sale of foreign birds 508 5 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Birds’-Nests._ - - There are at present only three - persons hawking birds’-nests, &c., in - the streets during the season, which - lasts from May to August; these - street-sellers sell among them 400 - nests, at 2-1/2_d._ each; 144 snakes, at - 1_s._ 6_d._ each; 4 hedgehogs, at 1_s._ each; - and about 2_s._’s worth of snails. This - makes the weekly income of each - amount to about 8_s._ 6_d._ during a - period of 12 weeks in the summer, - and the sum annually expended on - these articles to come to 15 6 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Squirrels._ - - For five months of the year there - are 20 men selling squirrels in the - streets, at from 20 to 50 per cent. - profit, and averaging a weekly sale of - six each. The average price is from - 2_s._ to 2_s._ 6_d._ Thus 2400 squirrels - are vended yearly in the streets, at - a cost to the public of 240 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Leverets, Wild Rabbits, &c._ - - During the year there are about - six individuals exposing for sale in the - streets young hares and wild rabbits. - These persons sell among them 300 - leverets, at 1_s._ 6_d._ each; and 400 - young wild-rabbits, at 4_d._ each, giving - a yearly outlay of 29 3 4 - - _Street-Sellers of Gold and Silver Fish._ - - If we calculate, in order to allow - for the cessation of the trade during the - winter, and often in the summer when - costermongering is at its best, that - but 35 gold-fish sellers hawk in the - streets and that for but half a year, - each selling six dozen weekly, at 12_s._ - the dozen, we find 65,520 fish sold, - at an outlay of 3,276 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Tortoises._ - - Estimating the number of individuals - selling tortoises to be 20, and - the number of tortoises sold to be - 10,000, at an average price of 8_d._ - each, we find there is expended yearly - upon these creatures upwards of 333 6 8 - - _Street-Sellers of Snails, Frogs, &c._ - - There are 14 snail gatherers, and - they, on an average, gather six dozen - quarts each in a year, which supplies - a total of 12,096 quarts of snails. - The labourers in the gardens, I am - informed, gather somewhat more than - an equal quantity, the greater part - being sold to the bird-shops; so that - altogether the supply of snails for - the caged thrushes and blackbirds of - London is about two millions and a - half. Computing them at 24,000 - quarts, and at 2_d._ a quart, the annual - outlay is 200_l._ Besides snails, there - are collected annually 500 frogs and 18 - toads, at 1_d._ each, giving a yearly - expenditure of 202 3 2 - - TOTAL, OR GROSS “TAKINGS,” OF THE - STREET-SELLERS OF LIVE ANIMALS 23,868 16 4 - - -INCOME, OR “TAKINGS,” OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF MINERAL PRODUCTIONS AND -NATURAL CURIOSITIES. - - _Street-Sellers of Coals._ - - The number of individuals engaged - in the street-sale of coals is 210; - these distribute 2940 tons of coals - weekly, giving an annual trade of - 152,880 tons, at 1_l._ per ton, and consequently - a yearly expenditure by - the poor of 152,880 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Coke._ - - The number of individuals engaged - in the street-sale of coke is 1500; - and the total quantity of coke sold - annually in the streets is computed - at about 1,400,000 chaldrons. These - are purchased at the gas factories at - an average price of 8_s._ per chaldron. - Reckoning that this is sold at 4_s._ per - chaldron for profit, we find that the - total gains of the whole class amount - to 280,000_l._ per annum, and their - gross annual takings to 840,000 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Tan-Turf._ - - The number of tan-turf sellers in - the metropolis is estimated at 14; - each of these dispose of, upon an - average, 20,000 per week, during - the year; selling them at 1_s._ per - hundred, and realizing a profit of - 4-1/2_d._ for each hundred. This makes - the annual outlay in the street-sale of - the above article amount to 7,280 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Salt._ - - There are at present 150 individuals - hawking salt in the several - streets of London; each of these pay - at the rate of 2_s._ per cwt. for the salt, - and retail it at 3 lbs. for 1_d._, which - leaves 1_s._ 1_d._ profit on every cwt. - One day with another, wet and dry, - each of the street-sellers disposes of - about 2-1/2 cwt., or 18 tons 15 cwt. - per day for all hands, and this, deducting - Sundays, makes 5868 tons - 15 cwt. in the course of the year. - The profit of 1_s._ 1_d._ per cwt. - amounts to a yearly aggregate profit - of 6357_l._ 16_s._ 3_d._, or about 42_l._ - per annum for each person in the - trade; while the sum annually expended - upon this article in the streets - amounts to 18,095 6 3 - - _Street-Sellers of Sand._ - - Calculating the sale at a load of - sand per day, for each horse and cart, - at 21_s._ per load, we find the sum - annually expended in house-sand - to be 6573_l._; adding to this the sum - of 234_l._ spent yearly in bird-sand, - the total street-expenditure is 6,807 0 0 - - _Street-Sellers of Shells._ - - There are about 50 individuals - disposing of shells at different periods - of the year. These sell among them - 1,000,000 at 1_d._ each, giving an - annual expenditure of 4,166 13 4 - --------------------- - TOTAL, OR GROSS TAKINGS, OF THE - STREET-SELLERS OF MINERAL PRODUCTIONS - AND NATURAL CURIOSITIES £1,029,228 19 7 - --------------------- - - _River-Sellers of Purl._ - - There are at present 35 men following - the trade of purl-selling on the - river Thames to colliers. The weekly - profits of this class amount to 117_l._ 5_s._ - per week, and yearly to 6097_l._, while - their annual takings is 8,190 0 0 - -Now, adding together the above and the other foregone results, we -arrive at the following estimate as to the amount of money annually -expended on the several articles purchased in the streets of the -metropolis. - - “Wet” fish £1,177,200 £ - Dry fish 127,000 - Shell fish 156,600 - ---------- - Fish of all kinds £1,460,800 - - Vegetables £292,400 - Green fruit 332,200 - Dry fruit 1,000 - ---------- - Fruit and Vegetables 625,600 - - Game, poultry, rabbits, &c. 80,000 - Flowers, roots, &c. 14,800 - Water-cresses 13,900 - Chickweed, gru’nsel, and turf for birds 14,570 - Eatables and drinkables 203,100 - Stationery, literature, and fine arts 33,400 - Manufactured articles 188,200 - Second-hand articles 29,900 - Live animals (_including dogs, birds, - and gold fish_) 29,300 - Mineral productions (_as coals, coke, - salt, sand, &c._) 1,022,700 - ---------- - TOTAL SUM EXPENDED UPON THE - VARIOUS ARTICLES VENDED BY THE - STREET-SELLERS £3,716,270 - -Hence it appears that the street-sellers, of all ages, in the -metropolis are about forty thousand in number--their stock-in-trade is -worth about sixty thousand pounds--and their gross annual takings or -receipts amount to no less than three millions and a half sterling. - - - - -OF THE STREET-BUYERS. - - -The persons who traverse the streets, or call periodically at certain -places to purchase articles which are usually sold at the door or -within the house, are--according to the division I laid down in the -first number of this work--STREET-BUYERS. The largest, and, in every -respect, the most remarkable body of these traders, are the buyers of -old clothes, and of them I shall speak separately, devoting at the same -time some space to the STREET-JEWS. It will also be necessary to give -a brief account of the Jews generally, for they are still a peculiar -race, and street and shop-trading among them are in many respects -closely blended. - -The principal things bought by the itinerant purchasers consist of -waste-paper, hare and rabbit skins, old umbrellas and parasols, bottles -and glass, broken metal, rags, dripping, grease, bones, tea-leaves, and -old clothes. - -With the exception of the buyers of waste-paper, among whom are many -active, energetic, and intelligent men, the street-buyers are of -the lower sort, both as to means and intelligence. The only further -exception, perhaps, which I need notice here is, that among some -umbrella-buyers, there is considerable smartness, and sometimes, in -the repair or renewal of the ribs, &c., a slight degree of skill. The -other street-purchasers--such as the hare-skin and old metal and rag -buyers, are often old and infirm people of both sexes, of whom--perhaps -by reason of their infirmities--not a few have been in the trade from -their childhood, and are as well known by sight in their respective -rounds, as was the “long-remembered beggar” in former times. - -It is usually the lot of a poor person who has been driven to the -streets, or has adopted such a life when an adult, to _sell_ trifling -things--such as are light to carry and require a small outlay--in -advanced age. Old men and women totter about offering lucifer-matches, -boot and stay-laces, penny memorandum books, and such like. But the -elder portion of the street-folk I have now to speak of do not sell, -but _buy_. The street-seller commends his wares, their cheapness, and -excellence. The same sort of man, when a buyer, depreciates everything -offered to him, in order to ensure a cheaper bargain, while many of -the things thus obtained find their way into street-sale, and are then -as much commended for cheapness and goodness, as if they were the -stock-in-trade of an acute slop advertisement-monger, and this is done -sometimes by the very man who, when a buyer, condemned them as utterly -valueless. But this is common to all trades. - - -OF THE STREET-BUYERS OF RAGS, BROKEN METAL, BOTTLES, GLASS, AND BONES. - -I class all these articles under one head, for, on inquiry, I find no -individual supporting himself by the trading in any one of them. I -shall, therefore, describe the buyers of rags, broken metal, bottles, -glass, and bones, as a body of street-traders, but take the articles in -which they traffic seriatim, pointing out in what degree they are, or -have been, wholly or partially, the staple of several distinct callings. - -The traders in these things are not unprosperous men. The poor -creatures who may be seen picking up rags in the street are -“street-finders,” and not buyers. It is the same with the poor old men -who may be seen bending under an unsavoury sack of bones. The bones -have been found, or have been given for charity, and are not purchased. -One feeble old man whom I met with, his eyes fixed on the middle of -the carriage-way in the Old St. Pancras-road, and with whom I had some -conversation, told me that the best friend he had in the world was a -gentleman who lived in a large house near the Regent’s-park, and gave -him the bones which his dogs had done with! “If I can only see hisself, -sir,” said the old man, “he’s sure to give me any coppers he has in -his coat-pocket, and that’s a very great thing to a poor man like me. -O, yes, I’ll buy bones, if I have any ha’pence, rather than go without -them; but I pick them up, or have them given to me mostly.” - -The street-buyers, who are only buyers, have barrows, sometimes even -carts with donkeys, and, as they themselves describe it, they “buy -everything.” These men are little seen in London, for they “work” the -more secluded courts, streets, and alleys, when in town; but their most -frequented rounds are the poorer parts of the populous suburbs. There -are many in Croydon, Woolwich, Greenwich, and Deptford. “It’s no use,” -a man who had been in the trade said to me, “such as us calling at fine -houses to know if they’ve any old keys to sell! No, we trades with the -poor.” Often, however, they deal with the servants of the wealthy; and -their usual mode of business in such cases is to leave a bill at the -house a few hours previous to their visit. This document has frequently -the royal arms at the head of it, and asserts that the “firm” has been -established since the year ----, which is seldom less than half a -century. The hand-bill usually consists of a short preface as to the -increased demand for rags on the part of the paper-makers, and this is -followed by a liberal offer to give the very best prices for any old -linen, or old metal, bottles, rope, stair-rods, locks, keys, dripping, -carpeting, &c., “in fact, no rubbish or lumber, however worthless, will -be refused;” and generally concludes with a request that this “bill” -may be shown to the mistress of the house and preserved, as it will be -called for in a couple of hours. - -The papers are delivered by one of the “firm,” who marks on the door -a sign indicative of the houses at which the bill has been taken in, -and the probable reception there of the gentleman who is to follow him. -The road taken is also pointed by marks before explained, see vol. i. -pp. 218 and 247. These men are residents in all quarters within 20 -miles of London, being most numerous in the places at no great distance -from the Thames. They work their way from their suburban residences -to London, which, of course, is the mart, or “exchange,” for their -wares. The reason why the suburbs are preferred is that in those parts -the possessors of such things as broken metal, &c., cannot so readily -resort to a marine-store dealer’s as they can in town. I am informed, -however, that the shops of the marine-store men are on the increase in -the more densely-peopled suburbs; still the dwellings of the poor are -often widely scattered in those parts, and few will go a mile to sell -any old thing. They wait in preference, unless very needy, for the -_visit_ of the street-buyer. - -A good many years ago--perhaps until 30 years back--_rags_, and -especially white and good linen rags, were among the things most -zealously inquired for by street-buyers, and then 3_d._ a pound was a -price readily paid. Subsequently the paper-manufacturers brought to -great and economical perfection the process of boiling rags in lye and -bleaching them with chlorine, so that colour became less a desideratum. -A few years after the peace of 1815, moreover, the foreign trade in -rags increased rapidly. At the present time, about 1200 tons of woollen -rags, and upwards of 10,000 tons of linen rags, are imported yearly. -These 10,000 tons give us but a vague notion of the real amount. I may -therefore mention that, when reduced to a more definite quantity, they -show a total of no less than twenty-two millions four hundred thousand -pounds. The woollen rags are imported the most largely from Hamburg -and Bremen, the price being from 5_l._ to 17_l._ the ton. Linen rags, -which average nearly 20_l._ the ton, are imported from the same places, -and from several Italian ports, more especially those in Sicily. Among -these ports are Palermo, Messina, Ancona, Leghorn, and Trieste (the -Trieste rags being gathered in Hungary). The value of the rags annually -brought to this country is no less than 200,000_l._ What the native -rags may be worth, there are no facts on which to ground an estimate; -but supposing each person of the 20,000,000 in Great Britain to produce -one pound of rags annually, then the rags of this country may be valued -at very nearly the same price as the foreign ones, so that the gross -value of the rags of Great Britain imported and produced at home, -would, in such a case, amount to 400,000_l._ From France, Belgium, -Holland, Spain, and other continental kingdoms, the exportation of rags -is prohibited, nor can so bulky and low-priced a commodity be smuggled -to advantage. - -Of this large sum of rags, which is independent of what is collected in -the United Kingdom, the Americans are purchasers on an extensive scale. -The wear of cotton is almost unknown in many parts of Italy, Germany, -and Hungary; and although the linen in use is coarse and, compared to -the Irish, Scotch, or English, rudely manufactured, the foreign rags -_are_ generally linen, and therefore are preferred at the paper mills. -The street-buyers in this country, however, make less distinction than -ever, as regards price, between linen and cotton rags. - -The linen rag-buying is still prosecuted extensively by itinerant -“gatherers” in the country, and in the further neighbourhoods of -London, but the collection is not to the extent it was formerly. The -price is lower, and, owing to the foreign trade, the demand is less -urgent; so common, too, is now the wear of cotton, and so much smaller -that of linen, that many people will not sell linen rags, but reserve -them for use in case of cuts and wounds, or for giving to their -poor neighbours on any such emergency. This was done doubtlessly to -as great, or to a greater extent, in the old times, but linen rags -were more plentiful then, for cotton shirting was not woven to the -perfection seen at present, and many good country housewives spun their -own linen sheetings and shirtings. - -A street-buyer of the class I have described, upon presenting himself -at any house, offers to buy rags, broken metal, or glass, and for rags -especially there is often a serious bargaining, and sometimes, I was -told by an itinerant street-seller, who had been an ear-witness, a -little joking not of the most delicate kind. For coloured rags these -men give 1/2_d._ a pound, or 1_d._ for three pounds; for inferior white -rags 1/2_d._ a pound, and up to 1-1/2_d._; for the best, 2_d._ the -pound. It is common, however, and even more common, I am assured, among -masters of the old rag and bottle shops, than among street-buyers, to -announce 2_d._ or 3_d._, or even as much as 6_d._, for the _best_ rags, -but, somehow or other, the rags taken for sale to those buyers never -are of the best. To offer 6_d._ a pound for rags is ridiculous, but -such an offer may be seen at some rag-shops, the figure ~6~, perhaps, -crowning a painting of a large plum-pudding, as a representation of -what may be a Christmas result, merely from the thrifty preservation -of rags, grease, and dripping. Some of the street-buyers, when working -the suburbs or the country, attach a similar “illustration” to their -barrows or carts. I saw the winter placard of one of these men, which -he was reserving for a country excursion as far as Rochester, “when the -plum-pudding time was a-coming.” In this pictorial advertisement a man -and woman, very florid and full-faced, were on the point of enjoying a -huge plum-pudding, the man flourishing a large knife, and looking very -hospitable. On a scroll which issued from his mouth were the words: -“From our rags! The best prices given by ---- ----, of London.” The -woman in like manner exclaimed: “From dripping and house fat! The best -prices given by ---- ----, of London.” - -This man told me that at some times, both in town and country, he did -not buy a pound of rags in a week. He had heard the old hands in the -trade say, that 20 or 30 years back they could “gather” (the word -generally used for buying) twice and three times as many rags as at -present. My informant attributed this change to two causes, depending -more upon what he had heard from experienced street-buyers than upon -his own knowledge. At one time it was common for a mistress to allow -her maid-servant to “keep a rag-bag,” in which all refuse linen, &c., -was collected for sale for the servant’s behoof; a privilege now rarely -accorded. The other cause was that working-people’s wives had less -money at their command now than they had formerly, so that instead of -gathering a good heap for the man who called on them periodically, -they ran to a marine store-shop and sold them by one, two, and -three pennyworths at a time. This related to all the things in the -street-buyer’s trade, as well as to rags. - -“I’ve known this trade ten years or so,” said my informant, “I was a -costermonger before that, and I work coster-work now in the summer, -and buy things in the winter. Before Christmas is the best time for -second-hand trade. When I set out on a country round--and I’ve gone as -far as Guildford and Maidstone, and St. Alban’s--I lays in as great a -stock of glass and crocks as I can raise money for, or as my donkey -or pony--I’ve had both, but I’m working a ass now--can drag without -distressing him. I swops my crocks for anythink in the second-hand way, -and when I’ve got through them I buys outright, and so works my way -back to London. I bring back what I’ve bought in the crates and hampers -I’ve had to pack the crocks in. The first year as I started I got hold -of a few very tidy rags, coloured things mostly. The Jew I sold ’em to -when I got home again gave me more than I expected. O, lord no, not -more than I asked! He told me, too, that he’d buy any more I might -have, as they was wanted at some town not very far off, where there was -a call for them for patching quilts. I haven’t heard of a call for any -that way since. I get less and less rags every year, I think. Well, I -can’t say what I got last year; perhaps about two stone. No, none of -them was woollen. They’re things as people’s seldom satisfied with the -price for, is rags. I’ve bought muslin window curtains or frocks as was -worn, and good for nothink but rags, but there always seems such a lot, -and they weighs so light and comes to so little, that there’s sure to -be grumbling. I’ve sometimes bought a lot of old clothes, by the lump, -or I’ve swopped crocks for them, and among them there’s frequently been -things as the Jew in Petticoat-lane, what I sells them to, has put o’ -one side as rags. If I’d offered to give rag prices, them as I got -’em of would have been offended, and have thought I wanted to cheat. -When you get a lot at one go, and ’specially if it’s for crocks, you -must make the best of them. This for that, and t’other for t’other. -I stay at the beer-shops and little inns in the country. Some of the -landlords looks very shy at one, if you’re a stranger, acause, if the -police detectives is after anythink, they go as hawkers, or barrowmen, -or somethink that way.” [This statement as to the police is correct; -but the man did not know how it came to his knowledge; he had “heard of -it,” he believed.] “I’ve very seldom slept in a common lodging-house. -I’d rather sleep on my barrow.” [I have before had occasion to remark -the aversion of the costermonger class to sleep in low lodging-houses. -These men, almost always, and from the necessities of their calling, -have rooms of their own in London; so that, I presume, they hate -to sleep _in public_, as the accommodation for repose in many a -lodging-house may very well be called. At any rate the costermongers, -of all classes of street-sellers, when on their country excursions, -resort the least to the lodging-houses.] “The last round I had in the -country, as far as Reading and Pangbourne, I was away about five weeks, -I think, and came back a better man by a pound; that was all. I mean I -had 30 shillings’ worth of things to start with, and when I’d got back, -and turned my rags, and old metal, and things into money, I had 50_s._ -To be sure Jenny (the ass) and me lived well all the time, and I bought -a pair of half-boots and a pair of stockings at Reading, so it weren’t -so bad. Yes, sir, there’s nothing I likes better than a turn into the -country. It does one’s health good, if it don’t turn out so well for -profits as it might.” - -My informant, the rag-dealer, belonged to the best order of -costermongers; one proof of this was in the evident care which he had -bestowed on Jenny, his donkey. There were no loose hairs on her hide, -and her harness was clean and whole, and I observed after a pause to -transact business on his round, that the animal held her head towards -her master to be scratched, and was petted with a mouthful of green -grass and clover, which the costermonger had in a corner of his vehicle. - -_Tailor’s cuttings_, which consist of cloth, satin, lining materials, -fustian, waistcoatings, silk, &c., are among the things which the -street-buyers are the most anxious to become possessed of on a country -round; for, as will be easily understood by those who have read the -accounts before given of the Old Clothes Exchange, and of Petticoat and -Rosemary lanes, they are available for many purposes in London. - -_Dressmaker’s cuttings_ are also a portion of the street-buyer’s -country traffic, but to no great extent, and hardly ever, I am told, -unless the street-buyer, which is not often the case, be accompanied -on his round by his wife. In town, tailor’s cuttings are usually sold -to the piece-brokers, who call or send men round to the shops or -workshops for the purpose of buying them, and it is the same with the -dressmaker’s cuttings. - -_Old metal_, or _broken metal_, for I heard one appellation used as -frequently as the other, is bought by the same description of traders. -This trade, however, is prosecuted in town by the street-buyers more -largely than in the country, and so differs from the rag business. The -carriage of old iron bolts and bars is exceedingly cumbersome; nor can -metal be packed or stowed away like old clothes or rags. This makes -the street-buyer indifferent as to the collecting of what I heard one -of them call “country iron.” By “metal” the street-folk often mean -copper (most especially), brass, or pewter, in contradistinction to -the cheaper substances of iron or lead. In the country they are most -anxious to buy “metal;” whereas, in town, they as readily purchase -“iron.” When the street-buyers give merely the worth of any metal by -weight to be disposed of, in order to be re-melted, or re-wrought -in some manner, by the manufacturers, the following are the average -prices:--Copper, 6_d._ per lb.; pewter, 5_d._; brass, 5_d._; iron, 6 -lbs. for 1_d._, and 8 lbs. for 2_d._ (a smaller quantity than 6 lbs. is -seldom bought); and 1_d._ and 1-1/4_d._ per lb. for lead. Old zinc is -not a metal which “comes in the way” of the street-buyer, nor--as one -of them told me with a laugh--old silver. Tin is never bought by weight -in the streets. - -It must be understood that the prices I have mentioned are those given -for old or broken metal, valueless unless for re-working. When an old -metal article is still available, or may be easily made available, -for the use for which it was designed, the street-purchase is by “the -piece,” rather than the weight. - -The broken pans, scuttles, kettles, &c., concerning one of the uses -of which I have quoted Mr. Babbage, in page 6 of the present volume, -as to the conversion of these worn-out vessels into the light and -japanned edgings, or clasps, called “clamps,” or “clips,” by the -trunk-makers, and used to protect or strengthen the corners of boxes -and packing-cases, are purchased sometimes by the street-buyers, but -fall more properly under the head of what constitutes a portion of the -stock-in-trade of the street-finder. They are not bought by weight, -but so much for the pan, perhaps so much along with other things; -a halfpenny, a penny, or occasionally two-pence, and often only a -farthing, or three pans for a penny. The uses for these things which -the street-buyers have more especially in view, are not those mentioned -by Mr. Babbage (the trunk clamps), but the conversion of them into the -“iron shovels,” or strong dust-pans sold in the streets. One street -artisan supports himself and his family by the making of dust-pans from -such grimy old vessels. - -As in the result of my inquiry among the street-_sellers_ of old -metal, I am of opinion that the street-_buyers_ also are not generally -mixed up with the receipt of stolen goods. That they may be so to some -extent is probable enough; in the same proportion, perhaps, as highly -respectable tradesmen have been known to buy the goods of fraudulent -bankrupts, and others. The street-buyers are low itinerants, seen -regularly by the police and easy to be traced, and therefore, for -one reason, cautious. In one of my inquiries among the young thieves -and pickpockets in the low lodging-houses, I heard frequent accounts -of their selling the metal goods they stole, to “fences,” and in one -particular instance, to the mistress of a lodging-house, who had -conveniences for the melting of pewter pots (called “cats and kittens” -by the young thieves, according to the size of the vessels), but I -never heard them speak of any connection, or indeed any transactions, -with street-folk. - -Among the things purchased in great quantities by the street-buyers -of old metal are keys. The keys so bought are of every size, are -generally very rusty, and present every form of manufacture, from -the simplest to the most complex wards. On my inquiring how such a -number of keys without locks came to be offered for street-sale, I -was informed that there were often duplicate or triplicate keys to -one lock, and that in sales of household furniture, for instance, -there were often numbers of odd keys found about the premises and sold -“in a lump;” that locks were often spoiled and unsaleable, wearing -out long before the keys. Twopence a dozen is an usual price for a -dozen “mixed keys,” to a street-buyer. Bolts are also freely bought -by the street-people, as are holdfasts, bed-keys, and screws, “and -everything,” I was told, “which some one or other among the poor is -always a-wanting.” - -A little old man, who had been many years a street-buyer, gave me an -account of his purchases of _bottles_ and _glass_. This man had been a -soldier in his youth; had known, as he said, “many ups and downs;” and -occasionally wheels a barrow, somewhat larger and shallower than those -used by masons, from which he vends iron and tin wares, such as cheap -gridirons, stands for hand-irons, dust-pans, dripping trays, &c. As -he sold these wares, he offered to buy, or swop for, any second-hand -commodities. “As to the bottle and glass buying, sir,” he said, “it’s -dead and buried in the streets, and in the country too. I’ve known -the day when I’ve cleared 2_l._ in a week by buying old things in a -country round. How long was that ago, do you say, sir? Why perhaps -twenty years; yes, more than twenty. Now, I’d hardly pick up odd glass -in the street.” [He called imperfect glass wares “odd glass.”] “O, I -don’t know what’s brought about such a change, but everything changes. -I can’t say anything about the duty on glass. No, I never paid any -duty on my glass; it ain’t likely. I buy glass still, certainly I do, -but I think if I depended on it I should be wishing myself in the East -Injes again, rather than such a poor consarn of a business--d----n me -if I shouldn’t. The last glass bargain I made about two months back, -down Limehouse-way, and about the Commercial-road, I cleared 7_d._ by; -and then I had to wheel what I bought--it was chiefly bottles--about -five mile. It’s a trade would starve a cat, the buying of old glass. I -never bought glass by weight, but I’ve heard of some giving a halfpenny -and a penny a pound. I always bought by the piece: from a halfpenny -to a shilling (but that’s long since) for a bottle; and farthings and -halfpennies, and higher and sometimes lower, for wine and other glasses -as was chipped or cracked, or damaged, for they could be sold in them -days. People’s got proud now, I fancy that’s one thing, and must have -everything slap. O, I do middling: I live by one thing or other, and -when I die there’ll just be enough to bury the old man.” [This is -the first street-trader I have met with who made such a statement as -to having provided for his interment, though I have heard these men -occasionally express repugnance at the thoughts of being buried by -the parish.] “I have a daughter, that’s all my family now; she does -well as a laundress, and is a real good sort; I have my dinner with -her every Sunday. She’s a widow without any young ones. I often go to -church, both with my daughter and by myself, on Sunday evenings. It -does one good. I’m fond of the music and singing too. The sermon I -can very seldom make anything of, as I can’t hear well if any one’s a -good way off me when he’s saying anythink. I buy a little old metal -sometimes, but it’s coming to be all up with street glass-people; -everybody seems to run with their things to the rag-and-bottle-shops.” - -The same body of traders buy also _old sacking, carpeting, and -moreen bed-curtains and window-hangings_; but the trade in them is -sufficiently described in my account of the buying of rags, for it is -carried on in the same way, so much per pound (1_d._ or 1-1/2_d._ or -2_d._), or so much for the lot. - -Of _Bones_ I have already spoken. They are bought by any -street-collector with a cart, on his round in town, at a halfpenny -a pound, or three pounds for a penny; but it is a trade, on account -of the awkwardness of carriage, little cared for by the regular -street-buyers. Men, connected with some bone-grinding-mill, go round -with a horse and cart to the knackers and butchers to collect bones; -but this is a portion, not of street, but of the mill-owner’s, -business. These bones are ground for manure, which is extensively used -by the agriculturists, having been first introduced in Yorkshire and -Lincolnshire about 30 years ago. The importation of bones is now very -great; more than three times as much as it was 20 years back. The value -of the foreign bones imported is estimated at upwards of 300,000_l._ -yearly. They are brought from South America (along with hides), from -Germany, Holland, and Belgium. - -The men who most care to collect bones in the streets of London are -old and infirm, and they barter toys for them with poor children; for -those children sometimes gather bones in the streets and put them on -one side, or get them from dustholes, for the sake of exchanging them -for a plaything; or, indeed, for selling them to any shopkeeper, and -many of the rag-and-bottle-tradesmen buy bones. The toys most used for -this barter are paper “wind-mills.” These toy-barterers, when they have -a few pence, will buy bones of children or any others, if they cannot -become possessed of them otherwise; but the carriage of the bones is a -great obstacle to much being done in this business. - -In the regular way of street-buying, such as I have described it, there -are about 100 men in London and the suburbs. Some buy only during a -portion of the year, and none perhaps (except in the way of barter) the -year round. They are chiefly of the costermonger class, some of the -street-buyers however, have been carmen’s servants, or connected with -trades in which they had the care of a horse and cart, and so became -habituated to a street-life. - -There are still many other ways in which the commerce in refuse and the -second-hand street-trade is supplied. As the windmill-seller for bones, -so will the puppet-show man for old bottles or broken table-spoons, -or almost any old trifle, allow children to regale their eyes on the -beauties of his exhibition. - -The trade expenditure of the street-buyers it is not easy to estimate. -Their calling is so mixed with selling and bartering, that very -probably not one among them can tell what he expends in _buying_, -as a separate branch of his business. If 100 men expend 15_s._ each -weekly, in the purchase of rags, old metal, &c., and if this trade be -prosecuted for 30 weeks of the year, we find 2250_l._ so expended. The -profits of the buyers range from 20 to 100 per cent. - - -OF THE “RAG-AND-BOTTLE,” AND THE “MARINE-STORE,” SHOPS. - -The principal purchasers of any refuse or worn-out articles are the -proprietors of the rag-and-bottle-shops. Some of these men make a -good deal of money, and not unfrequently unite with the business the -letting out of vans for the conveyance of furniture, or for pleasure -excursions, to such places as Hampton Court. The stench in these -shops is positively sickening. Here in a small apartment may be a -pile of rags, a sack-full of bones, the many varieties of grease and -“kitchen-stuff,” corrupting an atmosphere which, even without such -accompaniments, would be too close. The windows are often crowded -with bottles, which exclude the light; while the floor and shelves -are thick with grease and dirt. The inmates seem unconscious of this -foulness,--and one comparatively wealthy man, who showed me his horses, -the stable being like a drawing-room compared to his shop, in speaking -of the many deaths among his children, could not conjecture to what -cause it could be owing. This indifference to dirt and stench is the -more remarkable, as many of the shopkeepers have been gentlemen’s -servants, and were therefore once accustomed to cleanliness and order. -The door-posts and windows of the rag-and-bottle-shops are often -closely placarded, and the front of the house is sometimes one glaring -colour, blue or red; so that the place may be at once recognised, even -by the illiterate, as the “red house,” or the “blue house.” If these -men are not exactly street-buyers, they are street-billers, continually -distributing hand-bills, but more especially before Christmas. The -more aristocratic, however, now send round cards, and to the following -purport:-- - - No. -- No. -- - - THE ---- HOUSE IS ----’S - RAG, BOTTLE, AND KITCHEN STUFF - WAREHOUSE, - ---- STREET, ---- TOWN, - Where you can obtain Gold and Silver to any amount. - - ESTABLISHED ----. - - THE HIGHEST PRICE GIVEN - For all the undermentioned articles, viz:-- - - Wax and Sperm Pieces - Kitchen Stuff, &c. - Wine & Beer Bottles - Eau de Cologne, Soda Water - Doctors’ Bottles, &c. - White Linen Rags - Bones, Phials, & Broken Flint Glass - Old Copper, Brass, Pewter, &c. - Lead, Iron, Zinc, Steel, &c., &c. - Old Horse Hair, Mattresses, &c. - Old Books, Waste Paper, &c. - All kinds of Coloured Rags - - The utmost value given for all kinds of Wearing - Apparel. - - Furniture and Lumber of every description bought, and - full value given at his Miscellaneous Warehouse. - - Articles sent for. - -Some content themselves with sending hand-bills to the houses in their -neighbourhood, which many of the cheap printers keep in type, so that -an alteration in the name and address is all which is necessary for any -customer. - - * * * * * - -I heard that suspicions were entertained that it was to some of these -traders that the facilities with which servants could dispose of their -pilferings might be attributed, and that a stray silver spoon might -enhance the weight and price of kitchen-stuff. It is not pertaining to -my present subject to enter into the consideration of such a matter; -and I might not have alluded to it, had not I found the regular -street-buyers fond of expressing an opinion of the indifferent honesty -of this body of traders; but my readers may have remarked how readily -the street-people have, on several occasions, justified (as they seem -to think) their own delinquencies by quoting what they declared were as -great and as frequent delinquencies on the part of shopkeepers: “I know -very well,” said an intelligent street-seller on one occasion, “that -two wrongs can never make a right; but tricks that shopkeepers practise -to grow rich upon we must practise, just as they do, to live at all. -As long as they give short weight and short measure, the streets can’t -help doing the same.” - -The _rag-and-bottle_ and the _marine-store shops_ are in many -instances but different names for the same description of business. -The chief distinction appears to be this: the marine-store shopkeepers -(proper) do not meddle with what is a very principal object of -traffic with the rag-and-bottle man, the purchase of dripping, as -well as of every kind of refuse in the way of fat or grease. The -marine-store man, too, is more miscellaneous in his wares than his -contemporary of the rag-and-bottle-store, as the former will purchase -any of the smaller articles of household furniture, old tea-caddies, -knife-boxes, fire-irons, books, pictures, draughts and backgammon -boards, bird-cages, Dutch clocks, cups and saucers, tools and brushes. -The-rag-and-bottle tradesman will readily purchase any of these -things to be disposed of as old metal or waste-paper, but his brother -tradesman buys them to be re-sold and re-used for the purposes for -which they were originally manufactured. When furniture, however, is -the staple of one of these second-hand storehouses, the proprietor -is a furniture-broker, and not a marine-store dealer. If, again, the -dealer in these stores confine his business to the purchase of old -metals, for instance, he is classed as an old metal dealer, collecting -it or buying it of collectors, for sale to iron-founders, coppersmiths, -brass-founders, and plumbers. In perhaps the majority of instances -there is little or no distinction between the establishments I have -spoken of. The _dolly_ business is common to both, but most common to -the marine-store dealer, and of it I shall speak afterwards. - -These shops are exceedingly numerous. Perhaps in the poorer and -smaller streets they are more numerous even than the chandlers’ or the -beer-sellers’ places. At the corner of a small street, both in town -and the nearer suburbs, will frequently be found the chandler’s shop, -for the sale of small quantities of cheese, bacon, groceries, &c., to -the poor. Lower down may be seen the beer-seller’s; and in the same -street there is certain to be one rag-and-bottle or marine-store shop, -very often two, and not unfrequently another in some adjacent court. - -I was referred to the owner of a marine-store shop, as to a respectable -man, keeping a store of the best class. Here the counter, or table, or -whatever it is to be called, for it was somewhat nondescript, by an -ingenious contrivance could be pushed out into the street, so that in -bad weather the goods which were at other times exposed in the street -could be drawn inside without trouble. The glass frames of the window -were removable, and were placed on one side in the shop, for in the -summer an open casement seemed to be preferred. This is one of the -remaining old trade customs still seen in London; for previously to the -great fire in 1666, and the subsequent rebuilding of the city, shops -with open casements, and protected from the weather by overhanging -eaves, or by a sloping wooden roof, were general. - -The house I visited was an old one, and abounded in closets and -recesses. The fire-place, which apparently had been large, was removed, -and the space was occupied with a mass of old iron of every kind; all -this was destined for the furnace of the iron-founder, wrought iron -being preferred for several of the requirements of that trade. A chest -or range of very old drawers, with defaced or worn-out labels--once -a grocer’s or a chemist’s--was stuffed, in every drawer, with old -horse-shoe nails (valuable for steel manufacturers), and horse and -donkey shoes; brass knobs; glass stoppers; small bottles (among them a -number of the cheap cast “hartshorn bottles”); broken pieces of brass -and copper; small tools (such as shoemakers’ and harness-makers’ awls), -punches, gimlets, plane-irons, hammer heads, &c.; odd dominoes, dice, -and backgammon-men; lock escutcheons, keys, and the smaller sort of -locks, especially padlocks; in fine, any small thing which could be -stowed away in such a place. - -In one corner of the shop had been thrown, the evening before, a mass -of old iron, then just bought. It consisted of a number of screws of -different lengths and substance; of broken bars and rails; of the -odds and ends of the cogged wheels of machinery, broken up or worn -out; of odd-looking spikes, and rings, and links; all heaped together -and scarcely distinguishable. These things had all to be assorted; -some to be sold for re-use in their then form; the others to be sold -that they might be melted and cast into other forms. The floor was -intricate with hampers of bottles; heaps of old boots and shoes; old -desks and work-boxes; pictures (all modern) with and without frames; -waste-paper, the most of it of quarto, and some larger sized, soiled -or torn, and strung closely together in weights of from 2 to 7 lbs.; -and a fire-proof safe, stuffed with old fringes, tassels, and other -upholstery goods, worn and discoloured. The miscellaneous wares were -carried out into the street, and ranged by the door-posts as well as in -front of the house. In some small out-houses in the yard were piles of -old iron and tin pans, and of the broken or separate parts of harness. - -From the proprietor of this establishment I had the following account:-- - -“I’ve been in the business more than a dozen years. Before that, I -was an auctioneer’s, and then a furniture broker’s, porter. I wasn’t -brought up to any regular trade, but just to jobbing about, and a bad -trade it is, as all trades is that ain’t regular employ for a man. I -had some money when my father died--he kept a chandler’s shop--and I -bought a marine.” [An elliptical form of speech among these traders.] -“I gave 10_l._ for the stock, and 5_l._ for entrance and good-will, -and agreed to pay what rents and rates was due. It was a smallish -stock then, for the business had been neglected, but I have no reason -to be sorry for my bargain, though it might have been better. There’s -lots taken in about good-wills, but perhaps not so many in my way of -business, because we’re rather ‘fly to a dodge.’ It’s a confined sort -of life, but there’s no help for that. Why, as to my way of trade, -you’d be surprised, what different sorts of people come to my shop. -I don’t mean the regular hands; but the chance comers. I’ve had men -dressed like gentlemen--and no doubt they was respectable when they was -sober--bring two or three books, or a nice cigar case, or anythink that -don’t show in their pockets, and say, when as drunk as blazes, ‘Give me -what you can for this; I want it sold for a particular purpose.’ That -particular purpose was more drink, I should say; and I’ve known the -same men come back in less than a week, and buy what they’d sold me at -a little extra, and be glad if I had it by me still. O, we sees a deal -of things in this way of life. Yes, poor people run to such as me. I’ve -known them come with such things as teapots, and old hair mattresses, -and flock beds, and _then_ I’m sure they’re hard up--reduced for a -meal. I don’t like buying big things like mattresses, though I do -purchase ’em sometimes. Some of these sellers are as keen as Jews at -a bargain; others seem only anxious to get rid of the things and have -hold of some bit of money anyhow. Yes, sir, I’ve known their hands -tremble to receive the money, and mostly the women’s. They haven’t been -used to it, I know, when that’s the case. Perhaps they comes to sell to -me what the pawns won’t take in, and what they wouldn’t like to be seen -selling to any of the men that goes about buying things in the street. - -“Why, I’ve bought everythink; at sales by auction there’s often ‘lots’ -made up of different things, and they goes for very little. I buy of -people, too, that come to me, and of the regular hands that supply such -shops as mine. I sell retail, and I sell to hawkers. I sell to anybody, -for gentlemen’ll come into my shop to buy anythink that’s took their -fancy in passing. Yes, I’ve bought old oil paintings. I’ve heard of -some being bought by people in my way as have turned out stunners, and -was sold for a hundred pounds or more, and cost, perhaps, half-a-crown -or only a shilling. I never experienced such a thing myself. There’s -a good deal of gammon about it. Well, it’s hardly possible to say -anything about a scale of prices. I give 2_d._ for an old tin or metal -teapot, or an old saucepan, and sometimes, two days after I’ve bought -such a thing, I’ve sold it for 3_d._ to the man or woman I’ve bought -it of. I’ll sell cheaper to them than to anybody else, because they -come to me in two ways--both as sellers and buyers. For pictures I’ve -given from 3_d._ to 1_s._ I fancy they’re among the last things some -sorts of poor people, which is a bit fanciful, parts with. I’ve bought -them of hawkers, but often I refuse them, as they’ve given more than I -could get. Pictures requires a judge. Some brought to me was published -by newspapers and them sort of people. Waste-paper I buy as it comes. -I can’t read very much, and don’t understand about books. I take the -backs off and weighs them, and gives 1_d._, and 1-1/2_d._, and 2_d._ a -pound, and there’s an end. I sell them at about 1/4_d._ a pound profit, -or sometimes less, to men as we calls ‘waste’ men. It’s a poor part of -our business, but the books and paper takes up little room, and then -it’s clean and can be stowed anywhere, and is a sure sale. Well, the -people as sells ‘waste’ to me is not such as can read, I think; I don’t -know what they is; perhaps they’re such as obtains possession of the -books and what-not after the death of old folks, and gets them out of -the way as quick as they can. I know nothink about what they are. Last -week, a man in black--he didn’t seem rich--came into my shop and looked -at some old books, and said ‘Have you any black lead?’ He didn’t speak -plain, and I could hardly catch him. I said, ‘No, sir, I don’t sell -black lead, but you’ll get it at No. 27,’ but he answered, ‘Not black -lead, but black letter,’ speaking very pointed. I said, ‘No,’ and I -haven’t a notion what he meant. - -“Metal (copper) that I give 5_d._ or 5-1/2_d._ for, I can sell to the -merchants from 6-1/2_d._ to 8_d._ the pound. It’s no great trade, for -they’ll often throw things out of the lot and say they’re not metal. -Sometimes, it would hardly be a farthing in a shilling, if it war’n’t -for the draught in the scales. When we buys metal, we don’t notice the -quarters of the pounds; all under a quarter goes for nothink. When we -buys iron, all under half pounds counts nothink. So when we buys by the -pound, and sells by the hundredweight, there’s a little help from this, -which we calls the draught. - -“Glass bottles of all qualities I buys at three for a halfpenny, and -sometimes four, up to 2_d._ a-piece for ‘good stouts’ (bottled-porter -vessels), but very seldom indeed 2_d._, unless it’s something very -prime and big like the old quarts (quart bottles). I seldom meddles -with decanters. It’s very few decanters as is offered to me, either -little or big, and I’m shy of them when they are. There’s such a change -in glass. Them as buys in the streets brings me next to nothing now -to buy; they both brought and bought a lot ten year back and later. I -never was in the street-trade in second-hand, but it’s not what it was. -I sell in the streets, when I put things outside, and know all about -the trade. - -“It ain’t a fortnight back since a smart female servant, in slap-up -black, sold me a basket-full of doctor’s bottles. I knew her master, -and he hadn’t been buried a week before she come to me, and she said, -‘missus is glad to get rid of them, for they makes her cry.’ They often -say their missusses sends things, and that they’re not on no account to -take less than so much. That’s true at times, and at times it ain’t. -I gives from 1-1/2_d._ to 3_d._ a dozen for good new bottles. I’m -sure I can’t say what I give for other odds and ends; just as they’re -good, bad, or indifferent. It’s a queer trade. Well, I pay my way, but -I don’t know what I clear a week--about 2_l._ I dare say, but then -there’s rent, rates, and taxes to pay, and other expenses.” - -The _Dolly_ system is peculiar to the rag-and-bottle man, as well as -to the marine-store dealer. The name is derived from the black wooden -doll, in white apparel, which generally hangs dangling over the door -of the marine-store shops, or of the “rag-and-bottles,” but more -frequently the last-mentioned. This type of the business is sometimes -swung above their doors by those who are not dolly-shop keepers. The -dolly-shops are essentially pawn-shops, and pawn-shops for the very -poorest. There are many articles which the regular pawnbrokers decline -to accept as pledges. Among these things are blankets, rugs, clocks, -flock-beds, common pictures, “translated” boots, mended trowsers, -kettles, saucepans, trays, &c. Such things are usually styled “lumber.” -A poor person driven to the necessity of raising a few pence, and -unwilling to part finally with his lumber, goes to the dolly-man, and -for the merest trifle advanced, deposits one or other of the articles -I have mentioned, or something similar. For an advance of 2_d._ or -3_d._, a halfpenny a week is charged, but the charge is the same if the -pledge be redeemed next day. If the interest be paid at the week’s end, -another 1_d._ is occasionally advanced, and no extra charge exacted -for interest. If the interest be not paid at the week or fortnight’s -end, the article is forfeited, and is sold at a large profit by the -dolly-shop man. For 4_d._ or 6_d._ advanced, the weekly interest is -1_d._; for 9_d._ it is 1-1/2_d._; for 1_s._ it is 2_d._, and 2_d._ on -each 1_s._ up to 5_s._, beyond which sum the “dolly” will rarely go; in -fact, he will rarely advance as much. Two poor Irish flower girls, whom -I saw in the course of my inquiry into that part of street-traffic, had -in the winter very often to pledge the rug under which they slept at -a dolly-shop in the morning for 6_d._, in order to provide themselves -with stock-money to buy forced violets, and had to redeem it on their -return in the evening, when they could, for 7_d._ Thus 6_d._ a week -was sometimes paid for a daily advance of that sum. Some of these -“_illicit_” pawnbrokers even give tickets. - -This incidental mention of what is really an immense trade, as regards -the number of pledges, is all that is necessary under the present head -of inquiry, but I purpose entering into this branch of the subject -fully and minutely when I come to treat of the class of “distributors.” - -The _iniquities_ to which the poor are subject are positively -monstrous. A halfpenny a day interest on a loan of 2_d._ is at the rate -of 7280 _per cent. per annum!_ - - -OF THE BUYERS OF KITCHEN-STUFF, GREASE, AND DRIPPING. - -THIS body of traders cannot be classed as street-buyers, so that only a -brief account is here necessary. The buyers are not now chance people, -itinerant on any round, as at one period they were to a great extent, -but they are the proprietors of the rag and bottle and marine-store -shops, or those they employ. - -In this business there has been a considerable change. Until of late -years women, often wearing suspiciously large cloaks and carrying -baskets, ventured into perhaps every area in London, and asked for -the cook at every house where they thought a cook might be kept, and -this often at early morning. If the well-cloaked woman was known, -business could be transacted without delay: if she were a stranger, she -recommended herself by offering very liberal terms for “kitchen-stuff.” -The cook’s, or kitchen-maid’s, or servant-of-all-work’s “perquisites,” -were then generally disposed of to these collectors, some of whom -were charwomen in the houses they resorted to for the purchase of the -kitchen-stuff. They were often satisfied to purchase the dripping, &c., -by the lump, estimating the weight and the value by the eye. In this -traffic was frequently mixed up a good deal of pilfering, directly or -indirectly. Silver spoons were thus disposed of. Candles, purposely -broken and crushed, were often part of the grease; in the dripping, -butter occasionally added to the weight; in the “stock” (the remains -of meat boiled down for the making of soup) were sometimes portions of -excellent meat fresh from the joints which had been carved at table; -and among the broken bread, might be frequently seen small loaves, -unbroken. - -There is no doubt that this mode of traffic by itinerant charwomen, -&c., is still carried on, but to a much smaller extent than formerly. -The cook’s perquisites are in many cases sold under the inspection of -the mistress, according to agreement; or taken to the shop by the cook -or some fellow-servant; or else sent for by the shopkeeper. This is -done to check the confidential, direct, and immediate trade-intercourse -between merely two individuals, the buyer and seller, by making the -transaction more open and regular. I did not hear of any persons who -merely purchase the kitchen-stuff, as street-buyers, and sell it at -once to the tallow-melter or the soap-boiler; it appears all to find -its way to the shops I have described, even when bought by charwomen; -while the shopkeepers send for it or receive it in the way I have -stated, so that there is but little of street traffic in the matter. - -One of these shopkeepers told me that in this trading, as far as his -own opinion went, there was as much trickery as ever, and that many -gentlefolk quietly made up their minds to submit to it, while others, -he said, “kept the house in hot water” by resisting it. I found, -however, the general opinion to be, that when servants could only -dispose of these things to known people, the responsibility of the -buyer as well as the seller was increased, and acted as a preventive -check. - -The price for kitchen-stuff is 1_d._ and 1-1/2_d._ the pound; for -dripping--used by the poor as a substitute for butter--3-1/2_d._ to -5_d._ - - -OF THE STREET-BUYERS OF HARE AND RABBIT SKINS. - -These buyers are for the most part poor, old, or infirm people, and -I am informed that the majority have been in some street business, -and often as buyers, all their lives. Besides having derived this -information from well-informed persons, I may point out that this -is but a reasonable view of the case. If a mechanic, a labourer, -or a gentleman’s servant, resorts to the streets for his bread, or -because he is of a vagrant “turn,” he does not become a _buyer_, but -a _seller_. Street-selling is the easier process. It is easy for a -man to ascertain that oysters, for example, are sold wholesale at -Billingsgate, and if he buy a bushel (as in the present summer) for -5_s._, it is not difficult to find out how many he can afford for “a -penny a lot.” But the street-buyer must not only know what to _give_, -for hare-skins for instance, but what he can depend upon _getting_ -from the hat-manufacturers, or hat-furriers, and upon having a regular -market. Thus a double street-trade knowledge is necessary, and a novice -will not care to meddle with any form of open-air traffic but the -simplest. Neither is street-buying (old clothes excepted) generally -cared for by adults who have health and strength. - -In the course of a former inquiry I received an account of -hareskin-buying from a woman, upwards of fifty, who had been in the -trade, she told me, from childhood, “as was her mother before her.” -The husband, who was lame, and older than his wife, had been all _his_ -life a field-catcher of birds, and a street-seller of hearth-stones. -They had been married 31 years, and resided in a garret of a house, in -a street off Drury-lane--a small room, with a close smell about it. -The room was not unfurnished--it was, in fact, crowded. There were -bird-cages, with and without birds, over what _was_ once a bed; for -the bed, just prior to my visit, had been sold to pay the rent, and a -month’s rent was again in arrear; and there were bird-cages on the wall -by the door, and bird-cages over the mantelshelf. There was furniture, -too, and crockery; and a vile oil painting of “still life;” but an eye -used to the furniture in the rooms of the poor could at once perceive -that there was not _one_ article which could be sold to a broker or -marine-store dealer, or pledged at a pawn-shop. I was told the man and -woman both drank hard. The woman said:-- - -“I’ve sold hareskins all my life, sir, and was born in London; but when -hareskins isn’t in, I sells flowers. I goes about now (in November) -for my skins every day, wet or dry, and all day long--that is, till -it’s dark. To-day I’ve not laid out a penny, but then it’s been such a -day for rain. I reckon that if I gets hold of eighteen hare and rabbit -skins in a day, that is my greatest day’s work. I gives 2_d._ for -good hares, what’s not riddled much, and sells them all for 2-1/2_d._ -I sells what I pick up, by the twelve or the twenty, if I can afford -to keep them by me till that number’s gathered, to a Jew. I don’t -know what is done with them. I can’t tell you just what use they’re -for--something about hats.” [The Jew was no doubt a hat-furrier, or -supplying a hat-furrier.] “Jews gives us better prices than Christians, -and buys readier; so I find. Last week I sold all I bought for 3_s._ -6_d._ I take some weeks as much as 8_s._ for what I pick up, and if -I could get that every week I should think myself a lady. The profit -left me a clear half-crown. There’s no difference in any perticler -year--only that things gets worse. The game laws, as far as I knows, -hasn’t made no difference in my trade. Indeed, I can’t say I knows -anything about game laws at all, or hears anything consarning ’em. I -goes along the squares and streets. I buys most at gentlemen’s houses. -We never calls at hotels. The servants, and the women that chars, -and washes, and jobs, manages it there. Hareskins is in--leastways I -c’lects them--from September to the end of March, when hares, they -says, goes mad. I can’t say what I makes one week with another--perhaps -2_s._ 6_d._ may be cleared every week.” - -These buyers go regular rounds, carrying the skins in their hands, and -crying, “Any hareskins, cook? Hareskins.” It is for the most part a -winter trade; but some collect the skins all the year round, as the -hares are now vended the year through; but by far the most are gathered -in the winter. Grouse may not be killed excepting from the 12th, and -black-game from the 20th of August to the 10th of December; partridges -from the 1st of September to the 1st of February; while the pheasant -suffers a shorter season of slaughter, from the 1st of October to the -1st of February; but there is no time restriction as to the killing of -hares or of rabbits, though custom causes a cessation for a few months. - -A lame man, apparently between 50 and 60, with a knowing look, gave -me the following account. When I saw him he was carrying a few tins, -chiefly small dripping-pans, under his arm, which he offered for -sale as he went his round collecting hare and rabbit skins, of which -he carried but one. He had been in the streets all his life, as his -mother--he never knew any father--was a rag-gatherer, and at the same -time a street-seller of the old brimstone matches and papers of pins. -My informant assisted his mother to make and then to sell the matches. -On her last illness she was received into St. Giles’s workhouse, her -son supporting himself out of it; she had been dead many years. He -could not read, and had never been in a church or chapel in his life. -“He had been married,” he said, “for about a dozen years, and had a -very good wife,” who was also a street-trader until her death; but “we -didn’t go to church or anywhere to be married,” he told me, in reply -to my question, “for we really couldn’t afford to pay the parson, and -so we took one another’s words. If it’s so good to go to church for -being married, it oughtn’t to cost a poor man nothing; he shouldn’t be -charged for being good. I doesn’t do any business in town, but has my -regular rounds. This is my Kentish and Camden-town day. I buys most -from the servants at the bettermost houses, and I’d rather buy of them -than the missusses, for some missusses sells their own skins, and they -often want a deal for ’em. Why, just arter last Christmas, a young -lady in that there house (pointing to it), after ordering me round to -the back-door, came to me with two hareskins. They certainly was fine -skins--werry fine. I said I’d give 4-1/2_d._ ‘Come now, my good man,’ -says she,” and the man mimicked her voice, “‘let me have no nonsense. I -can’t be deceived any longer, either by you or my servants; so give me -8_d._, and go about your business.’ Well, I went about my business; and -a woman called to buy them, and offered 4_d._ for the two, and the lady -was so wild, the servant told me arter; howsomever she only got 4_d._ -at last. She’s a regular screw, but a fine-dressed one. I don’t know -that there’s been any change in my business since hares was sold in the -shops. If there’s more skins to sell, there’s more poor people to buy. -I never tasted hares’ flesh in my life, though I’ve gathered so many of -their skins. I’ve smelt it when they’ve been roasting them where I’ve -called, but don’t think I could eat any. I live on bread and butter and -tea, or milk sometimes in hot weather, and get a bite of fried fish or -anything when I’m out, and a drop of beer and a smoke when I get home, -if I can afford it. I don’t smoke in my own place, I uses a beer-shop. -I pay 1_s._ 6_d._ a week for a small room; I want little but a bed in -it, and have my own. I owe three weeks’ rent now; but I do best both -with tins and hareskins in the cold weather. Monday’s my best day. O, -as to rabbit-skins, I do werry little in them. Them as sells them gets -the skins. Still there _is_ a few to be picked up; such as them as has -been sent as presents from the country. Good rabbit-skins is about -the same price as hares, or perhaps a halfpenny lower, take them all -through. I generally clears 6_d._ a dozen on my hare and rabbit-skins, -and sometimes 8_d._ Yes, I should say that for about eight months I -gathers four dozen every week, often five dozen. I suppose I make 5_s._ -or 6_s._ a week all the year, with one thing or other, and a lame man -can’t do wonders. I never begged in my life, but I’ve twice had help -from the parish, and that only when I was very bad (ill). O, I suppose -I shall end in the great house.” - -There are, as closely as I can ascertain, at least 50 persons buying -skins in the street; and calculating that each collects 50 skins -weekly for 32 weeks of the year, we find 80,000 to be the total. This -is a reasonable computation, for there are upwards of 102,000 hares -consigned yearly to Newgate and Leadenhall markets; while the rabbits -sold yearly in London amount to about 1,000,000; but, as I have shown, -very few of their skins are disposed of to street-buyers. - - -OF THE STREET-BUYERS OF WASTE (PAPER). - -Beyond all others the street-purchase of waste paper is the most -curious of any in the hands of the class I now treat of. Some may have -formed the notion that waste paper is merely that which is soiled or -torn, or old numbers of newspapers, or other periodical publications; -but this is merely a portion of the trade, as the subsequent account -will show. - -The men engaged in this business have not unfrequently an apartment, -or a large closet, or recess, for the reception of their purchases of -paper. They collect their paper street by street, calling upon every -publisher, coffee-shop keeper, printer, or publican (but rarely on a -publican), who may be a seller of “waste.” I heard the refuse paper -called nothing but “waste” after the general elliptical fashion. -Attorneys’ offices are often visited by these buyers, as are the -offices of public men, such as tax or rate collectors, generally. - -One man told me that until about ten years ago, and while he was a -youth, he was employed by a relation in the trade to carry out waste -paper sold to, or ordered by cheesemongers, &c., but that he never -“collected,” or bought paper himself. At last he thought he would start -on his own account, and the first person he called upon, he said, was a -rich landlady, not far from Hungerford-market, whom he saw sometimes at -her bar, and who was always very civil. He took an opportunity to ask -her if she “happened to have any waste in the house, or would have any -in a week or so?” Seeing the landlady look surprised and not very well -pleased at what certainly appeared an impertinent inquiry, he hastened -to explain that he meant old newspapers, or anything that way, which he -would be glad to buy at so much a pound. The landlady however took in -but one daily and one weekly paper (both sent into the country when a -day or so old), and having had no dealings with men of my informant’s -avocation, could not understand his object in putting such questions. - -Every kind of paper is purchased by the “waste-men.” One of these -dealers said to me: “I’ve often in my time ‘cleared out’ a lawyer’s -office. I’ve bought old briefs, and other law papers, and ‘forms’ that -weren’t the regular forms then, and any d----d thing they had in my -line. You’ll excuse me, sir, but I couldn’t help thinking what a lot -of misery was caused, perhaps, by the cwts. of waste I’ve bought at -such places. If my father hadn’t got mixed up with law he wouldn’t have -been ruined, and his children wouldn’t have had such a hard fight of -it; so I hate law. All that happened when I was a child, and I never -understood the rights or the wrongs of it, and don’t like to think of -people that’s so foolish. I gave 1-1/2_d._ a pound for all I bought at -the lawyers, and done pretty well with it, but very likely that’s the -only good turn such paper ever did any one--unless it were the lawyers -themselves.” - -The waste-dealers do not confine their purchases to the tradesmen I -have mentioned. They buy of any one, and sometimes act as middlemen or -brokers. For instance, many small stationers and newsvendors, sometimes -tobacconists in no extensive way of trade, sometimes chandlers, -announce by a bill in their windows, “Waste Paper Bought and Sold in -any Quantity,” while more frequently perhaps the trade is carried -on, as an understood part of these small shopmen’s business, without -any announcement. Thus the shop-buyers have much miscellaneous waste -brought to them, and perhaps for only some particular kind have they a -demand by their retail customers. The regular itinerant waste dealer -then calls and “clears out everything” the “everything” being not an -unmeaning word. One man, who “did largely in waste,” at my request -endeavoured to enumerate all the kinds of paper he had purchased as -waste, and the packages of paper he showed me, ready for delivery -to his customers on the following day, confirmed all he said as he -opened them and showed me of what they were composed. He had dealt, he -said--and he took great pains and great interest in the inquiry, as -one very curious, and was a respectable and intelligent man--in “books -on _every_ subject” [I give his own words] “on which a book can be -written.” After a little consideration he added: “Well, perhaps _every_ -subject is a wide range; but if there are any exceptions, it’s on -subjects not known to a busy man like me, who is occupied from morning -till night every week day. The only worldly labour I do on a Sunday -is to take my family’s dinner to the bake-house, bring it home after -chapel, and read _Lloyd’s Weekly_. I’ve had Bibles--the backs are taken -off in the waste trade, or it wouldn’t be fair weight--Testaments, -Prayer-books, Companions to the Altar, and Sermons and religious works. -Yes, I’ve had the Roman Catholic books, as is used in their public -worship--at least so I suppose, for I never was in a Roman Catholic -chapel. Well, it’s hard to say about proportions, but in my opinion, -as far as it’s good for anything, I’ve not had _them_ in anything like -the proportion that I’ve had Prayer-books, and Watts’ and Wesley’s -hymns. More shame; but you see, sir, perhaps a godly old man dies, -and those that follow him care nothing for hymn-books, and so they -come to such as me, for they’re so cheap now they’re not to be sold -second-hand at all, I fancy. I’ve dealt in tragedies and comedies, old -and new, cut and uncut--they’re best uncut, for you can make them into -sheets then--and farces, and books of the opera. I’ve had scientific -and medical works of every possible kind, and histories, and travels, -and lives, and memoirs. I needn’t go through them--everything, from -a needle to an anchor, as the saying is. Poetry, ay, many a hundred -weight; Latin and Greek (sometimes), and French, and other foreign -languages. Well now, sir, as you mention it, I think I never _did_ have -a Hebrew work; I think not, and I know the Hebrew letters when I see -them. Black letter, not once in a couple of years; no, nor in three or -four years, when I think of it. I have met with it, but I always take -anything I’ve got that way to Mr. ----, the bookseller, who uses a -poor man well. Don’t you think, sir, I’m complaining of poverty; though -I have been very poor, when I was recovering from cholera at the first -break-out of it, and I’m anything but rich now. Pamphlets I’ve had by -the ton, in my time; I think we should both be tired if I could go -through all they were about. Very many were religious, more’s the pity. -I’ve heard of a page round a quarter of cheese, though, touching a -man’s heart.” - -In corroboration of my informant’s statement, I may mention that in the -course of my inquiry into the condition of the fancy cabinet-makers -of the metropolis, one elderly and very intelligent man, a first-rate -artisan in skill, told me he had been so reduced in the world by the -underselling of slop-masters (called “butchers” or “slaughterers,” by -the workmen in the trade), that though in his youth he could take in -the _News_ and _Examiner_ papers (each he believed 9_d._ at that time, -but was not certain), he could afford, and enjoyed, no reading when -I saw him last autumn, beyond the book-leaves in which he received -his quarter of cheese, his small piece of bacon or fresh meat, or his -saveloys; and his wife schemed to go to the shops who “wrapped up their -things from books,” in order that he might have something to read after -his day’s work. - -My informant went on with his specification: “Missionary papers of all -kinds. Parliamentary papers, but not so often new ones, very largely. -Railway prospectuses, with plans to some of them, nice engravings; and -the same with other joint-stock companies. Children’s copy-books, and -cyphering-books. Old account-books of every kind. A good many years -ago, I had some that must have belonged to a West End perfumer, there -was such French items for Lady this, or the Honourable Captain that. I -remember there was an Hon. Capt. G., and almost at every second page -was ‘100 tooth-picks, 3_s._ 6_d._’ I think it was 3_s._ 6_d._; in -arranging this sort of waste one now and then gives a glance to it. -Dictionaries of every sort, I’ve had, but not so commonly. Music books, -lots of them. Manuscripts, but only if they’re rather old; well, 20 or -30 years or so: I call that old. Letters on every possible subject, -but not, in my experience, any very modern ones. An old man dies, you -see, and his papers are sold off, letters and all; that’s the way; get -rid of all the old rubbish, as soon as the old boy’s pointing his toes -to the sky. What’s old letters worth, when the writers are dead and -buried? why, perhaps 1-1/2_d._ a pound, and it’s a rattling big letter -that will weigh half-an-ounce. O, it’s a queer trade, but there’s many -worse.” - -The letters which I saw in another waste-dealer’s possession were 45 -in number, a small collection, I was told; for the most part they were -very dull and common-place. Among them, however, was the following, -in an elegant, and I presume a female hand, but not in the modern -fashionable style of handwriting. The letter is evidently old, the -address is of West-end gentility, but I leave out name and other -particularities:-- - - “Mrs. ---- [it is not easy to judge whether the flourished letters - are ‘Mrs.’ or ‘Miss,’ but certainly more like ‘Mrs.’] Mrs. ---- - (Zoological Artist) presents her compliments to Mr. ----, and being - commissioned to communicate with a gentleman of the name, recently - arrived at Charing-cross, and presumed by description to be himself, - in a matter of delicacy and confidence, indispensably verbal; begs to - say, that if interested in the ecclaircissement and necessary to the - same, she may be found in attendance, any afternoon of the current - week, from 3 to 6 o’clock, and no other hours. - - “---- street, ---- square. - - “Monday Morn. for the aftn., at home.” - -Among the books destined to a butcher, I found three perfect numbers -of a sixpenny periodical, published a few years back. Three, or rather -two and a half, numbers of a shilling periodical, with “coloured -engravings of the fashions.” Two (imperfect) volumes of French Plays, -an excellent edition; among the plays were Athalie, Iphigénie, Phèdre, -Les Frères Ennemis, Alexandre, Andromaque, Les Plaideurs, and Esther. -A music sheet, headed “A lonely thing I would not be.” A few pages of -what seems to have been a book of tales: “Album d’un Sourd-Muet” (36 -pages in the pamphlet form, quite new). All these constituted about -twopennyworth to the butcher. Notwithstanding the variety of sources -from which the supply is derived, I heard from several quarters that -“waste never was so scarce” as at present; it was hardly to be had at -all. - -The purchasers of the waste-paper from the collectors are -cheesemongers, buttermen, butchers, fishmongers, poulterers, pork and -sausage-sellers, sweet-stuff-sellers, tobacconists, chandlers--and -indeed all who sell provisions or such luxuries as I have mentioned -in retail. Some of the wholesale provision houses buy very largely -and sell the waste again to their customers, who pay more for it by -such a medium of purchase, but they have it thus on credit. Any retail -trader in provisions at all “in a large way,” will readily buy six or -seven cwt. at a time. The price given by them varies from 1-1/4_d._ to -3-1/2_d._ the pound, but it is very rarely either so low or so high. -The average price may be taken at 18_s._ the cwt., which is not quite -2_d._ a pound, and at this rate I learn from the best-informed parties -there are twelve tons sold weekly, or 1624 tons yearly (1,397,760 -lbs.), at the cost of 11,232_l._ One man in the trade was confident the -value of the waste paper sold could not be less than 12,000_l._ in a -year. - -There are about 60 men in this trade, nearly 50 of whom live entirely, -as it was described to me, “by their waste,” and bring up their -families upon it. The others unite some other avocation with it. The -earnings of the regular collectors vary from 15_s._ weekly to 35_s._ -accordingly as they meet with a supply on favourable terms, or, as they -call it, “a good pull in a lot of waste.” They usually reside in a -private room with a recess, or a second room, in which they sort, pack, -and keep their paper. - -One of these traders told me that he was satisfied that stolen -paper seldom found its way, directly, into the collectors’ hands, -“particularly publisher’s paper,” he added. “Why, not long since there -was a lot of sheets stolen from Alderman Kelly’s warehouse, and the -thief didn’t take them to a waste dealer; he knew better. He took them, -sir, to a tradesman in a large respectable way over the water--a man -that uses great lots of waste--and sold them at just what was handed to -him: I suppose no questions asked. The thief was tried and convicted, -but nothing was done to the buyer.” - -It must not be supposed that the waste-paper used by the London -tradesmen costs no more than 12,000_l._ in a year. A large quantity is -bought direct by butchers and others from poor persons going to them -with a small quantity of their own accumulating, or with such things as -copy-books. - - -OF THE STREET-BUYERS OF UMBRELLAS AND PARASOLS. - -The street-traders in old umbrellas and parasols are numerous, but the -buying is but one part, and the least skilled part, of the business. -Men, some tolerably well-dressed, some swarthy-looking, like gipsies, -and some with a vagabond aspect, may be seen in all quarters of the -town and suburbs, carrying a few ragged-looking umbrellas, or the -sticks or ribs of umbrellas, under their arms, and crying “Umbrellas -to mend,” or “Any old umbrellas to sell?” The traffickers in umbrellas -are also the crockmen, who are always glad to obtain them in barter, -and who merely dispose of them at the Old Clothes Exchange, or in -Petticoat-lane. - -The umbrella-menders are known by an appellation of an appropriateness -not uncommon in street language. They are _mushroom-fakers_. The form -of the expanded umbrella resembles that of a mushroom, and it has -the further characteristic of being rapidly or suddenly raised, the -mushroom itself springing up and attaining its full size in a very -brief space of time. The term, however, like all street or popular -terms or phrases, has become very generally condensed among those who -carry on the trade--they are now _mush-fakers_, a word which, to any -one who has not heard the term in full, is as meaningless as any in the -vocabulary of slang. - -The mushroom-fakers will repair any umbrella on the owner’s premises, -and their work is often done adroitly, I am informed, and as often -bunglingly, or, in the trade term, “botched.” So far there is no -traffic in the business, the mushroom-faker simply performing a piece -of handicraft, and being paid for the job. But there is another class -of street-folk who buy the old umbrellas in Petticoat-lane, or of the -street buyer or collector, and “sometimes,” as one of these men said to -me, “we are our own buyers on a round.” They mend the umbrellas--some -of their wives, I am assured, being adepts as well as themselves--and -offer them for sale on the approaches to the bridges, and at the -corners of streets. - -The street umbrella trade is really curious. Not so very many years -back the use of an umbrella by a man was regarded as partaking of -effeminacy, but now they are sold in thousands in the streets, and in -the second-hand shops of Monmouth-street and such places. One of these -street-traders told me that he had lately sold, but not to an extent -which might encourage him to proceed, old silk umbrellas in the street -for gentlemen to protect themselves from the rays of the sun. - -The purchase of umbrellas is in a great degree mixed up with that -of old clothes, of which I have soon to treat; but from what I have -stated it is evident that the umbrella trade is most connected with -street-artisanship, and under that head I shall describe it. - - - - -OF THE STREET-JEWS. - - -Although my present inquiry relates to London life in London streets, -it is necessary that I should briefly treat of the Jews generally, as -an integral, but distinct and peculiar part of street-life. - -That this ancient people were engaged in what may be called -street-traffic in the earlier ages of our history, as well as in the -importation of spices, furs, fine leather, armour, drugs, and general -merchandise, there can be no doubt; nevertheless concerning this part -of the subject there are but the most meagre accounts. - -Jews were settled in England as early as 730, and during the sway -of the Saxon kings. They increased in number after the era of the -Conquest; but it was not until the rapacity to which they were exposed -in the reign of Stephen had in a great measure exhausted itself, and -until the measures of Henry II. had given encouragement to commerce, -and some degree of security to property in cities or congregated -communities, that the Jews in England became numerous and wealthy. -They then became active and enterprising attendants at fairs, where -the greater portion of the internal trade of the kingdom was carried -on, and especially the traffic in the more valuable commodities, such -as plate, jewels, armour, cloths, wines, spices, horses, cattle, &c. -The agents of the great prelates and barons, and even of the ruling -princes, purchased what they required at these fairs. St. Giles’s fair, -held at St. Giles’s hill, not far from Winchester, continued sixteen -days. The fair was, as it were, a temporary city. There were streets of -tents in every direction, in which the traders offered and displayed -their wares. During the continuance of the fair, business was strictly -prohibited in Winchester, Southampton, and in every place within seven -miles of St. Giles’s hill. Among the tent-owners at such fairs were the -Jews. - -At this period the Jews may be considered as one of the bodies of -“merchant-strangers,” as they were called, settled in England for -purposes of commerce. Among the other bodies of these “strangers” were -the German “merchants of the steel-yard,” the Lombards, the Caursini -of Rome, the “merchants of the staple,” and others. These were all -corporations, and thriving corporations (when unmolested), and the Jews -had also their Jewerie, or Judaisme, not for a “corporation” merely, -but also for the requirements of their faith and worship, and for their -living together. The London Jewerie was established in a place of which -no vestige of its establishment now remains beyond the name--the Old -Jewry. Here was erected the first synagogue of the Jews in England, -which was defaced or demolished, Maitland states, by the citizens, -after they had slain 700 Jews (other accounts represent that number as -greatly exaggerated). This took place in 1263, during one of the many -disturbances in the uneasy reign of Henry III. - -All this time the Jews amassed wealth by trade and usury, in spite -of their being plundered and maltreated by the princes and other -potentates--every one has heard of King John’s having a Jew’s teeth -drawn--and in spite of their being reviled by the priests and hated by -the people. The sovereigns generally encouraged “merchant-strangers.” -When the city of London, in 1289, petitioned Edward I. for “the -expulsion of all merchant-strangers,” that monarch answered, with all -a monarch’s peculiar regard for “great” men and “great” men only, -“No! the merchant-strangers are useful and beneficial to the great -men of the kingdom, and I will not expel them.” But though the King -encouraged, the people detested, _all_ foreign traders, though not -with the same intensity as they detested and contemned the Jews, for -in _that_ detestation a strong religious feeling was an element. Of -this dislike to the merchant-strangers, very many instances might be -cited, but I need give only one. In 1379, nearly a century after the -banishment of the Jews, a Genoese merchant, a man of great wealth, -petitioned Richard II. for permission to deposit goods for safe keeping -in Southampton Castle, promising to introduce so large a share of -the commerce of the East into England, that pepper should be 4_d._ -a pound. “Yet the Londoners,” writes Walsingham, but in the quaint -monkish Latin of the day, “enemies to the prosperity of their country, -hired assassins, who murdered the merchant in the street. After this, -what stranger will trust his person among a people so faithless and so -cruel? who will not dread our treachery, and abhor our name?” - -In 1290, by a decree of Edward I., the Jews were banished out of -England. The causes assigned for this summary act, were “their -extortions, their debasing and diminishing the coin, and for other -crimes.” I need not enter into the merits or demerits of the Jews of -that age, but it is certain that any ridiculous charge, any which it -was impossible could be true, was an excuse for the plundering of -them at the hands of the rich, and the persecution of them at the -hands of the people. At the period of this banishment, their number -is represented by the contemporaneous historians to have been about -16,000, a number most probably exaggerated, as perhaps all statements -of the numbers of a people are when no statistical knowledge has been -acquired. During this period of their abode in England, the Jews -were protected as the villeins or bondsmen of the king, a protection -disregarded by the commonalty, and only giving to the executive -government greater facilities of extortion and oppression. - -In 1655 an Amsterdam Jew, Rabbi Manasseh Ben-Israel, whose name is -still highly esteemed among his countrymen, addressed Cromwell on -the behalf of the Jews that they should be re-admitted into England -with the sanction, and under the protection, of the law. Despite the -absence of such sanction, they had resided and of course traded in -this country, but in small numbers, and trading often in indirect -and sometimes in contraband ways. Chaucer, writing in the days of -Richard II., three reigns after their expulsion, speaks of Jews as -living in England. It is reputed that, in the reigns of Elizabeth -and the first James, they supplied, at great profit, the materials -required by the alchymists for their experiments in the transmutation -of metals. In Elizabeth’s reign, too, Jewish physicians were highly -esteemed in England. The Queen at one time confided the care of her -health to Rodrigo Lopez, a Hebrew, who, however, was convicted of an -attempt to poison his royal mistress. Francis I., of France, carried -his opinion of Jewish medical skill to a great height; he refused on -one occasion, during an illness, to be attended by the most eminent of -the Israelitish physicians, because the learned man had just before -been converted to Christianity. The most Christian king, therefore, -applied to his ally, the Turkish sultan, Solyman II., who sent him “a -true hardened Jew,” by whose directions Francis drank asses’ milk and -recovered. - -Cromwell’s response to the application of Manasseh Ben Israel was -favourable; but the opposition of the Puritans, and more especially -of Prynne, prevented any public declaration on the subject. In 1656, -however, the Jews began to arrive and establish themselves in England, -but not until after the restoration of Charles II., in 1660, could it -be said that, as a body, they were settled in England. They arrived -from time to time, and without any formal sanction being either granted -or refused. One reason alleged at the time was, that the Jews were well -known to be money-lenders, and Charles and his courtiers were as well -known money-borrowers! - -I now come to the character and establishment of the Jews in the -capacity in which I have more especially to describe them--as -street-traders. There appears no reason to doubt that they commenced -their principal street traffic, the collecting of old clothes, soon -after their settlement in London. At any rate the cry and calling of -the Jew old clothesman were so established, 30 or 40 years after their -return, or early in the last century, that one of them is delineated -in Tempest’s “Cries of London,” published about that period. In this -work the street Jew is represented as very different in his appearance -to that which he presents in our day. Instead of merely a dingy bag, -hung empty over his arm, or carried, when partially or wholly filled, -on his shoulder, he is depicted as wearing, or rather carrying, three -cocked hats, one over the other, upon his head; a muff, with a scarf -or large handkerchief over it, is attached to his right hand and arm, -and two dress swords occupy his left hand. The apparel which he himself -wears is of the full-skirted style of the day, and his long hair, or -periwig, descends to his shoulders. This difference in appearance, -however, between the street Jew of 1700 and of a century and a half -later, is simply the effect of circumstances, and indicates no change -in the character of the man. Were it now the fashion for gentlemen to -wear muffs, swords, and cocked hats, the Jew would again have them in -his possession. - -During the eighteenth century the popular feeling ran very high against -the Jews, although to the masses they were almost strangers, except -as men employed in the not-very-formidable occupation of collecting -and vending second-hand clothes. The old feeling against them seems to -have lingered among the English people, and their own greed in many -instances engendered other and lawful causes of dislike, by their -resorting to unlawful and debasing pursuits. They were considered--and -with that exaggeration of belief dear to any ignorant community--as an -entire people of misers, usurers, extortioners, receivers of stolen -goods, cheats, brothel-keepers, sheriff’s-officers, clippers and -sweaters of the coin of the realm, gaming-house keepers; in fine, the -charges, or rather the accusations, of carrying on every disreputable -trade, and none else, were “bundled at their doors.” That there was -too much foundation for many of these accusations, and still _is_, no -reasonable Jew can now deny; that the wholesale prejudice against them -was absurd, is equally indisputable. - -So strong was this popular feeling against the Israelites, that it -not only influenced, and not only controlled the legislature, but it -coerced the Houses of Parliament to repeal, in 1754, an act which they -had passed the previous session, and that act was merely to enable -foreign Jews to be naturalized without being required to take the -sacrament! It was at that time, and while the popular ferment was at -its height, unsafe for a Hebrew old clothesman, however harmless a man, -and however long and well known on his beat, to ply his street-calling -openly; for he was often beaten and maltreated. Mobs, riots, -pillagings, and attacks upon the houses of the Jews were frequent, and -one of the favourite cries of the mob was certainly among the most -preposterously stupid of any which ever tickled the ear and satisfied -the mind of the ignorant:-- - - “No Jews! - No wooden shoes!!” - -Some mob-leader, with a taste for rhyme, had in this distich cleverly -blended the prejudice against the Jews with the easily excited but -vague fears of a French invasion, which was in some strange way -typified to the apprehensions of the vulgar as connected with slavery, -popery, the compulsory wearing of wooden shoes (_sabots_), and the -eating of frogs! And this sort of feeling was often revenged on the -street-Jew, as a man mixed up with wooden shoes! Cumberland, in the -comedy of “The Jew,” and some time afterwards Miss Edgeworth, in the -tale of “Harrington and Ormond,” and both at the request of Jews, wrote -to moderate this rabid prejudice. - -In what estimation the street, and, incidentally, all classes of Jews -are held at the present time, will be seen in the course of my remarks; -and in the narratives to be given. I may here observe, however, that -among some the dominant feeling against the Jews on account of their -faith still flourishes, as is shown by the following statement:--A -gentleman of my acquaintance was one evening, about twilight, walking -down Brydges-street, Covent-garden, when an elderly Jew was preceding -him, apparently on his return from a day’s work, as an old clothesman. -His bag accidentally touched the bonnet of a dashing woman of the town, -who was passing, and she turned round, abused the Jew, and spat at him, -saying with an oath: “You old rags humbug! _You_ can’t do that!”--an -allusion to a vulgar notion that Jews have been unable to do more than -_slobber_, since spitting on the Saviour. - -The number of Jews now in England is computed at 35,000. This is -the result at which the Chief Rabbi arrived a few years ago, after -collecting all the statistical information at his command. Of these -35,000, more than one-half, or about 18,000, reside in London. I am -informed that there may now be a small increase to this population, but -only small, for many Jews have emigrated--some to California. A few -years ago--a circumstance mentioned in my account of the Street-Sellers -of Jewellery--there were a number of Jews known as “hawkers,” or -“travellers,” who traverse every part of England selling watches, -gold and silver pencil-cases, eye-glasses, and all the more portable -descriptions of jewellery, as well as thermometers, barometers, -telescopes, and microscopes. This trade is now little pursued, except -by the stationary dealers; and the Jews who carried it on, and who were -chiefly foreign Jews, have emigrated to America. The foreign Jews who, -though a fluctuating body, are always numerous in London, are included -in the computation of 18,000; of this population two-thirds reside in -the city, or the streets adjacent to the eastern boundaries of the city. - - -OF THE TRADES AND LOCALITIES OF THE STREET-JEWS. - -The trades which the Jews most affect, I was told by one of themselves, -are those in which, as they describe it, “there’s a chance;” that -is, they prefer a trade in such commodity as is not subjected to a -fixed price, so that there may be abundant scope for speculation, and -something like a gambler’s chance for profit or loss. In this way, Sir -Walter Scott has said, trade has “all the fascination of gambling, -without the moral guilt;” but the absence of moral guilt in connection -with such trading is certainly dubious. - -The wholesale trades in foreign commodities which are now principally -or solely in the hands of the Jews, often as importers and exporters, -are, watches and jewels, sponges--fruits, especially green fruits, -such as oranges, lemons, grapes, walnuts, cocoa-nuts, &c., and dates -among dried fruits--shells, tortoises, parrots and foreign birds, -curiosities, ostrich feathers, snuffs, cigars, and pipes; but cigars -far more extensively at one time. - -The localities in which these wholesale and retail traders reside are -mostly at the East-end--indeed the Jews of London, as a congregated -body, have been, from the times when their numbers were sufficient to -institute a “settlement” or “colony,” peculiar to themselves, always -resident in the eastern quarter of the metropolis. - -Of course a wealthy Jew millionaire--merchant, stock-jobber, or -stock-broker--resides where he pleases--in a villa near the Marquis -of Hertford’s in the Regent’s-park, a mansion near the Duke of -Wellington’s in Piccadilly, a house and grounds at Clapham or -Stamford-hill; but these are exceptions. The quarters of the Jews -are not difficult to describe. The trading-class in the capacity of -shopkeepers, warehousemen, or manufacturers, are the thickest in -Houndsditch, Aldgate, and the Minories, more especially as regards -the “swag-shops” and the manufacture and sale of wearing apparel. -The wholesale dealers in fruit are in Duke’s-place and Pudding-lane -(Thames-street), but the superior retail Jew fruiterers--some of -whose shops are remarkable for the beauty of their fruit--are in -Cheapside, Oxford-street, Piccadilly, and most of all in Covent-garden -market. The inferior jewellers (some of whom deal with the first -shops) are also at the East-end, about Whitechapel, Bevis-marks, -and Houndsditch; the wealthier goldsmiths and watchmakers having, -like other tradesmen of the class, their shops in the superior -thoroughfares. The great congregation of working watchmakers is -in Clerkenwell, but in that locality there are only a few Jews. -The Hebrew dealers in second-hand garments, and second-hand wares -generally, are located about Petticoat-lane, the peculiarities of which -place I have lately described. The manufacturers of such things as -cigars, pencils, and sealing-wax; the wholesale importers of sponge, -bristles and toys, the dealers in quills and in “looking-glasses,” -reside in large private-looking houses, when display is not needed -for purposes of business, in such parts as Maunsell-street, Great -Prescott-street, Great Ailie-street, Leman-street, and other parts -of the eastern quarter known as Goodman’s-fields. The wholesale -dealers in foreign birds and shells, and in the many foreign things -known as “curiosities,” reside in East Smithfield, Ratcliffe-highway, -High-street (Shadwell), or in some of the parts adjacent to the Thames. -In the long range of river-side streets, stretching from the Tower -to Poplar and Blackwall, are Jews, who fulfil the many capacities -of slop-sellers, &c., called into exercise by the requirements of -seafaring people on their return from or commencement of a voyage. A -few Jews keep boarding-houses for sailors in Shadwell and Wapping. Of -the localities and abodes of the poorest of the Jews I shall speak -hereafter. - -Concerning the street-trades pursued by the Jews, I believe there -is not at present a single one of which they can be said to have a -monopoly; nor in any one branch of the street-traffic are there so many -of the Jew traders as there were a few years back. - -This remarkable change is thus to be accounted for. Strange as the -fact may appear, the Jew has been undersold in the streets, and he -has been beaten on what might be called his own ground--the buying of -old clothes. The Jew boys, and the feebler and elder Jews, had, until -some twelve or fifteen years back, almost the monopoly of orange and -lemon street-selling, or street-hawking. The costermonger class had -possession of the theatre doors and the approaches to the theatres; -they had, too, occasionally their barrows full of oranges; but the Jews -were the daily, assiduous, and itinerant street-sellers of this most -popular of foreign, and perhaps of all, fruits. In their hopes of sale -they followed any one a mile if encouraged, even by a few approving -glances. The great theatre of this traffic was in the stage-coach -yards in such inns as the Bull and Mouth, (St. Martin’s-le-Grand), -the Belle Sauvage (Ludgate-hill), the Saracen’s Head (Snow-hill), the -Bull (Aldgate), the Swan-with-two-Necks (Lad-lane, City), the George -and Blue Boar (Holborn), the White Horse (Fetter-lane), and other such -places. They were seen too, “with all their eyes about them,” as one -informant expressed it, outside the inns where the coaches stopped -to take up passengers--at the White Horse Cellar in Piccadilly, for -instance, and the Angel and the (now defunct) Peacock in Islington. -A commercial traveller told me that he could never leave town by any -“mail” or “stage,” without being besieged by a small army of Jew boys, -who most pertinaciously offered him oranges, lemons, sponges, combs, -pocket-books, pencils, sealing-wax, paper, many-bladed pen-knives, -razors, pocket-mirrors, and shaving-boxes--as if a man could not -possibly quit the metropolis without requiring a stock of such -commodities. In the whole of these trades, unless in some degree in -sponges and blacklead-pencils, the Jew is now out-numbered or displaced. - -I have before alluded to the underselling of the Jew boy by the Irish -boy in the street-orange trade; but the characteristics of the change -are so peculiar, that a further notice is necessary. It is curious to -observe that the most assiduous, and hitherto the most successful of -street-traders, were supplanted, not by a more persevering or more -skilful body of street-sellers, but simply by a more _starving_ body. - -Some few years since poor Irish people, and chiefly those connected -with the culture of the land, “came over” to this country in great -numbers, actuated either by vague hopes of “bettering themselves” by -emigration, or working on the railways, or else influenced by the -restlessness common to an impoverished people. These men, when unable -to obtain employment, without scruple became street-sellers. Not -only did the adults resort to street-traffic, generally in its simplest -forms, such as hawking fruit, but the children, by whom they were -accompanied from Ireland, in great numbers, were put into the trade; -and if two or three children earned 2_d._ a day each, and their parents -5_d._ or 6_d._ each, or even 4_d._, the subsistence of the family was -better than they could obtain in the midst of the miseries of the -southern and western part of the Sister Isle. An Irish boy of fourteen, -having to support himself by street-trade, as was often the case, owing -to the death of parents and to divers casualties, would undersell the -Jew boys similarly circumstanced. - -The Irish boy could live _harder_ than the Jew--often in his own -country he subsisted on a stolen turnip a day; he could lodge -harder--lodge for 1_d._ a night in any noisome den, or sleep in the -open air, which is seldom done by the Jew boy; he could dispense with -the use of shoes and stockings--a dispensation at which his rival in -trade revolted; he drank only water, or if he took tea or coffee, -it was as a meal, and not merely as a beverage; to crown the whole, -the city-bred Jew boy required some evening recreation, the penny or -twopenny concert, or a game at draughts or dominoes; but this the -Irish boy, country bred, never thought of, for _his_ sole luxury was a -deep sleep, and, being regardless or ignorant of all such recreations, -he worked longer hours, and so sold more oranges, than his Hebrew -competitor. Thus, as the Munster or Connaught lad could live on less -than the young denizen of Petticoat-lane, he could sell at smaller -profit, and did so sell, until gradually the Hebrew youths were -displaced by the Irish in the street orange trade. - -It is the same, or the same in a degree, with other street-trades, -which were at one time all but monopolised by the Jew adults. Among -these were the street-sale of spectacles and sponges. The prevalence -of slop-work and slop-wages, and the frequent difficulty of obtaining -properly-remunerated employment--the pinch of want, in short--have -driven many mechanics to street-traffic; so that the numbers of -street-traffickers have been augmented, while no small portion of the -new comers have adopted the more knowing street avocations, formerly -pursued only by the Jews. - -Of the other class of street-traders who have interfered largely with -the old-clothes trade, which, at one time, people seemed to consider a -sort of birthright among the Jews, I have already spoken, when treating -of the dealings of the crockmen in bartering glass and crockery-ware -for second-hand apparel. These traders now obtain as many old clothes -as the Jew clothes men themselves; for, with a great number of -“ladies,” the offer of an ornament of glass or spar, or of a beautiful -and fragrant plant, is more attractive than the offer of a small sum of -money, for the purchase of the left-off garments of the family. - -The crockmen are usually strong and in the prime of youth or manhood, -and are capable of carrying heavy burdens of glass or china-wares, for -which the Jews are either incompetent or disinclined. - -Some of the Jews which have been thus displaced from the street-traffic -have emigrated to America, with the assistance of their brethren. - -The principal street-trades of the Jews are now in sponges, spectacles, -combs, pencils, accordions, cakes, sweetmeats, drugs, and fruits of all -kinds; but, in all these trades, unless perhaps in drugs, they are in a -minority compared with the “Christian” street-sellers. - -There is not among the Jew street-sellers generally anything of the -concubinage or cohabitation common among the costermongers. Marriage is -the rule. - - -OF THE JEW OLD-CLOTHES MEN. - -Fifty years ago the appearance of the street-Jews, engaged in the -purchase of second-hand clothes, was different to what it is at the -present time. The Jew then had far more of the distinctive garb and -aspect of a foreigner. He not unfrequently wore the gabardine, which is -never seen now in the streets, but some of the long loose frock coats -worn by the Jew clothes’ buyers resemble it. At that period, too, the -Jew’s long beard was far more distinctive than it is in this hirsute -generation. - -In other respects the street-Jew is unchanged. Now, as during the -last century, he traverses every street, square, and road, with the -monotonous cry, sometimes like a bleat, of “Clo’! Clo’!” On this head, -however, I have previously remarked, when describing the street Jew of -a hundred years ago. - -[Illustration: THE JEW OLD-CLOTHES MAN. - -CLO’, CLO’, CLO’. - -[_From a Daguerreotype by_ BEARD.]] - -In an inquiry into the condition of the old-clothes dealers a year and -a half ago, a Jew gave me the following account. He told me, at the -commencement of his statement, that he was of opinion that his people -were far more speculative than the Gentiles, and therefore the English -liked better to deal with them. “Our people,” he said, “will be out all -day in the wet, and begrudge themselves a bit of anything to eat till -they go home, and then, may be, they’ll gamble away their crown, just -for the love of speculation.” My informant, who could write or speak -several languages, and had been 50 years in the business, then said, “I -am no bigot; indeed I do not care where I buy my meat, so long as I can -get it. I often go into the Minories and buy some, without looking to -how it has been killed, or whether it has a seal on it or not.” - -He then gave me some account of the Jewish children, and the number -of men in the trade, which I have embodied under the proper heads. -The itinerant Jew clothes man, he told me, was generally the son of a -former old-clothes man, but some were cigar-makers, or pencil-makers, -taking to the clothes business when those trades were slack; but that -nineteen out of twenty had been born to it. If the parents of the -Jew boy are poor, and the boy a sharp lad, he generally commences -business at ten years of age, by selling lemons, or some trifle in -the streets, and so, as he expressed it, the boy “gets a round,” or -street-connection, by becoming known to the neighbourhoods he visits. -If he sees a servant, he will, when selling his lemons, ask if she -have any old shoes or old clothes, and offer to be a purchaser. If the -clothes should come to more than the Jew boy has in his pocket, he -leaves what silver he has as “an earnest upon them,” and then seeks -some regular Jew clothes man, who will advance the purchase money. -This the old Jew agrees to do upon the understanding that he is to -have “half Rybeck,” that is, a moiety of the profit, and then he will -accompany the boy to the house, to pass his judgment on the goods, and -satisfy himself that the stripling has not made a blind bargain, an -error into which he very rarely falls. After this he goes with the lad -to Petticoat-lane, and there they share whatever money the clothes may -bring over and above what has been paid for them. By such means the -Jew boy gets his knowledge of the old-clothes business; and so quick -are these lads generally, that in the course of two months they will -acquire sufficient experience in connection with the trade to begin -dealing on their own account. There are some, he told me, as sharp at -15 as men of 50. - -“It is very seldom,” my informant stated, “very seldom indeed, that -a Jew clothes man takes away any of the property of the house he may -be called into. I expect there’s a good many of ’em,” he continued, -for he sometimes spoke of his co-traders, as if they were not of his -own class, “is fond of cheating--that is, they won’t mind giving only -2_s._ for a thing that’s worth 5_s._ They are fond of money, and will -do almost anything to get it. Jews are perhaps the most money-loving -people in all England. There are certainly some old-clothes men who -will buy articles at such a price that they must know them to have -been stolen. Their rule, however, is to ask no questions, and to get -as cheap an article as possible. A Jew clothes man is seldom or never -seen in liquor. They gamble for money, either at their own homes or at -public-houses. The favourite games are tossing, dominoes, and cards. -I was informed, by one of the people, that he had seen as much as -30_l._ in silver and gold lying upon the ground when two parties had -been playing at throwing three halfpence in the air. On a Saturday, -some gamble away the morning and the greater part of the afternoon.” -[Saturday, I need hardly say, is the Hebrew Sabbath.] “They meet -in some secret back place, about ten, and begin playing for ‘one a -time’--that is, tossing up three halfpence, and staking 1_s._ on the -result. Other Jews, and a few Christians, will gather round and bet. -Sometimes the bets laid by the Jew bystanders are as high as 2_l._ -each; and on more than one occasion the old-clothes men have wagered as -much as 50_l._, but only after great gains at gambling. Some, if they -_can_, will cheat, by means of a halfpenny with a head or a tail on -both sides, called a ‘gray.’ The play lasts till the Sabbath is nearly -over, and then they go to business or the theatre. They seldom or never -say a word while they are losing, but merely stamp on the ground; it -is dangerous, though, to interfere when luck runs against them. The -rule is, when a man is losing to let him alone. I have known them play -for three hours together, and nothing be said all that time but ‘head’ -or ‘tail.’ They seldom go to synagogue, and on a Sunday evening have -card parties at their own houses. They seldom eat anything on their -rounds. The reason is, not because they object to eat meat killed by -a Christian, but because they are afraid of losing a ‘deal,’ or the -chance of buying a lot of old clothes by delay. They are generally -too lazy to light their own fires before they start of a morning, and -nineteen out of twenty obtain their breakfasts at the coffee-shops -about Houndsditch. - -“When they return from their day’s work they have mostly some stew -ready, prepared by their parents or wife. If they are not family men -they go to an eating-house. This is sometimes a Jewish house, but if -no one is looking they creep into a Christian ‘cook-shop,’ not being -particular about eating ‘tryfer’--that is, meat which has been killed -by a Christian. Those that are single generally go to a neighbour and -agree with him to be boarded on the Sabbath; and for this the charge -is generally about 2_s._ 6_d._ On a Saturday there’s cold fish for -breakfast and supper; indeed, a Jew would pawn the shirt off his back -sooner than go without fish then; and in holiday-time he _will_ have -it, if he has to get it out of the stones. It is not reckoned a holiday -unless there’s fish.” - -“Forty years ago I have made as much as 5_l._ in a week by the purchase -of old clothes in the streets,” said a Jew informant. “Upon an average -then, I could earn weekly about 2_l._ But now things are different. -People are more wide awake. Every one knows the value of an old coat -now-a-days. The women know more than the men. The general average, I -think, take the good weeks with the bad throughout the year, is about -1_l._ a week; some weeks we get 2_l._, and some scarcely nothing.” - -I was told by a Jewish professional gentleman that the account of the -_spirit_ of gambling prevalent among his people was correct, but the -amounts said to be staked, he thought, rare or exaggerated. - -The Jew old-clothes men are generally far more cleanly in their habits -than the poorer classes of English people. Their hands they always wash -before their meals, and this is done whether the party be a strict Jew -or “Meshumet,” a convert, or apostate from Judaism. Neither will the -Israelite ever use the same knife to cut his meat that he previously -used to spread his butter, and he will not even put his meat on a plate -that has had butter on it; nor will he use for his soup the spoon that -has had melted butter in it. This objection to mix butter with meat is -carried so far, that, after partaking of the one, Jews will not eat -of the other for the space of two hours. The Jews are generally, when -married, most exemplary family men. There are few fonder fathers than -they are, and they will starve themselves sooner than their wives and -children should want. Whatever their faults may be, they are good -fathers, husbands, and sons. Their principal characteristic is their -extreme love of money; and, though the strict Jew does not trade -himself on the Sabbath, he may not object to employ either one of his -tribe, or a Gentile, to do so for him. - -The capital required for commencing in the old-clothes line is -generally about 1_l._ This the Jew frequently borrows, especially after -holiday-time, for then he has generally spent all his earnings, unless -he be a provident man. When his stock-money is exhausted, he goes -either to a neighbour or to a publican in the vicinity, and borrows -1_l._ on the Monday morning, “to strike a light with,” as he calls it, -and agrees to return it on the Friday evening, with 1_s._ interest for -the loan. This he always pays back. If he was to sell the coat off his -back he would do this, I am told, because to fail in so doing would -be to prevent his obtaining any stock-money for the future. With this -capital he starts on his rounds about eight in the morning, and I am -assured he will frequently begin his work without tasting food, rather -than break into the borrowed stock-money. Each man has his particular -walk, and never interferes with that of his neighbour; indeed, while -upon another’s beat he will seldom cry for clothes. Sometimes they go -half “Rybeck” together--that is, they will share the profits of the -day’s business, and when they agree to do this the one will take one -street, and the other another. The lower the neighbourhood the more -old clothes are there for sale. At the east end of the town they like -the neighbourhoods frequented by sailors, and there they purchase -of the girls and the women the sailors’ jackets and trowsers. But -they buy most of the Petticoat-lane, the Old-Clothes Exchange, and -the marine-store dealers; for as the Jew clothes man never travels -the streets by night-time, the parties who then have old clothes to -dispose of usually sell them to the marine-store or second-hand dealers -over-night, and the Jew buys them in the morning. The first thing that -he does on his rounds is to seek out these shops, and see what he can -pick up there. A very great amount of business is done by the Jew -clothes man at the marine-store shops at the west as well as at the -east end of London. - -At the West-end the itinerant clothes men prefer the mews at the back -of gentlemen’s houses to all other places, or else the streets where -the little tradesmen and small genteel families reside. My informant -assured me that he had once bought a Bishop’s hat of his lordship’s -servant for 1_s._ 6_d._ on a Sunday morning. - -These traders, as I have elsewhere stated, live at the East-end of the -town. The greater number of them reside in Portsoken Ward, Houndsditch; -and their favourite localities in this district are either Cobb’s-yard, -Roper’s-building, or Wentworth-street. They mostly occupy small houses, -about 4_s._ 6_d._ a week rent, and live with their families. They are -generally sober men. It is seldom that a Jew leaves his house and owes -his landlord money; and if his goods should be seized the rest of his -tribe will go round and collect what is owing. - -The rooms occupied by the old-clothes men are far from being so -comfortable as those of the English artizans whose earnings are not -superior to the gains of these clothes men. Those which I saw had all -a littered look; the furniture was old and scant, and the apartment -seemed neither shop, parlour, nor bed-room. For domestic and family -men, as some of the Jew old-clothes men are, they seem very indifferent -to the comforts of a home. - -I have spoken of “Tryfer,” or meat killed in the Christian fashion. -Now, the meat killed according to the Jewish law is known as “Coshar,” -and a strict Jew will eat none other. In one of my letters in the -_Morning Chronicle_ on the meat markets of London, there appeared the -following statement, respecting the Jew butchers in Whitechapel-market. - -“To a portion of the meat here exposed for sale, may be seen attached -the peculiar seal which shows that the animal was killed conformably -to the Jewish rites. According to the injunctions of this religion the -beast must die from its throat being cut, instead of being knocked -on the head. The slaughterer of the cattle for Jewish consumption, -moreover, must be a Jew. Two slaughterers are appointed by the Jewish -authorities of the synagogue, and they can employ others, who must be -likewise Jews, as assistants. The slaughterers I saw were quiet-looking -and quiet-mannered men. When the animal is slaughtered and skinned, -an examiner (also appointed by the synagogue) carefully inspects the -‘inside.’ ‘If the lights be grown to the ribs,’ said my informant, who -had had many years’ experience in this branch of the meat trade, ‘or if -the lungs have any disease, or if there be any disease anywhere, the -meat is pronounced unfit for the food of the Jews, and is sent entire -to a carcase butcher to be sold to the Christians. This, however, -does not happen once in 20 times.’ To the parts exposed for sale, -when the slaughtering has been according to the Jewish law, there is -attached a leaden seal, stamped in Hebrew characters with the name of -the examining party sealing. In this way, as I ascertained from the -slaughterers, are killed weekly from 120 to 140 bullocks, from 400 to -500 sheep and lambs, and about 30 calves. All the parts of the animal -thus slaughtered may be and are eaten by the Jews, but three-fourths -of the purchase of this meat is confined, as regards the Jews, to the -fore-quarters of the respective animals; the hind-quarters, being the -choicer parts, are sent to Newgate or Leadenhall-markets for sale on -commission.” The Hebrew butchers consider that the Christian mode of -slaughter is a far less painful death to the ox than was the Jewish. - -I am informed that of the Jew Old-Clothes Men there are now only from -500 to 600 in London; at one time there might have been 1000. Their -average earnings may be something short of 20_s._ a week in second-hand -clothes alone; but the gains are difficult to estimate. - - -OF A JEW STREET-SELLER. - -An elderly man, who, at the time I saw him, was vending spectacles, or -bartering them for old clothes, old books, or any second-hand articles, -gave me an account of his street-life, but it presented little -remarkable beyond the not unusual vicissitudes of the lives of those of -his class. - -He had been in every street-trade, and had on four occasions travelled -all over England, selling quills, sealing-wax, pencils, sponges, -braces, cheap or superior jewellery, thermometers, and pictures. He -had sold barometers in the mountainous parts of Cumberland, sometimes -walking for hours without seeing man or woman. “_I liked it then_,” -he said, “_for I was young and strong, and didn’t care to sleep twice -in the same town_. I was afterwards in the old-clothes line. I buy a -few odd hats and light things still, but I’m not able to carry heavy -weights, as my breath is getting rather short.” [I find that the Jews -generally object to the more laborious kinds of street-traffic.] “Yes, -I’ve been twice to Ireland, and sold a good many quills in Dublin, -for I crossed over from Liverpool. Quills and wax were a great trade -with us once; now it’s quite different. I’ve had as much as 60_l._ -of my own, and that more than half-a-dozen times, but all of it -went in speculations. Yes, some went in gambling. I had a share in -a gaming-booth at the races, for three years. O, I dare say that’s -more than 20 years back; but we did very little good. There was such -fees to pay for the tent on a race-ground, and often such delays -between the races in the different towns, and bribes to be given to -the town-officers--such as town-sergeants and chief constables, and -I hardly know who--and so many expenses altogether, that the profits -were mostly swamped. Once at Newcastle races there was a fight among -the pitmen, and our tent was in their way, and was demolished almost to -bits. A deal of the money was lost or stolen. I don’t know how much, -but not near so much as my partners wanted to make out. I wasn’t on the -spot just at the time. I got married after that, and took a shop in the -second-hand clothes line in Bristol, but my wife died in child-bed in -less than a year, and the shop didn’t answer; so I got sick of it, and -at last got rid of it. O, I work both the country and London still. I -shall take a turn into Kent in a day or two. I suppose I clear between -10_s._ and 20_s._ a week in anything, and as I’ve only myself, I do -middling, and am ready for another chance if any likely speculation -offers. I lodge with a relation, and sometimes live with his family. -No, I never touch any meat but ‘Coshar.’ I suppose my meat now costs me -6_d._ or 7_d._ a day, but it has cost me ten times that--and 2_d._ for -beer in addition.” - -I am informed that there are about 50 adult Jews (besides old-clothes -men) in the streets selling fruit, cakes, pencils, spectacles, sponge, -accordions, drugs, &c. - - -OF THE JEW-BOY STREET-SELLERS. - -I have ascertained, and from sources where no ignorance on the subject -could prevail, that there are now in the streets of London, rather more -than 100 Jew-boys engaged principally in fruit and cake-selling in the -streets. Very few Jewesses are itinerant street-sellers. Most of the -older Jews thus engaged have been street-sellers from their boyhood. -The young Jews who ply in street-callings, however, are all men in -matters of traffic, almost before they cease, in years, to be children. -In addition to the Jew-boy street-sellers above enumerated, there are -from 50 to 100, but usually about 50, who are occasional, or “casual” -street-traders, vending for the most part cocoa-nuts and grapes, and -confining their sales chiefly to the Sundays. - -On the subject of the street-Jew boys, a Hebrew gentleman said to -me: “When we speak of street-Jew boys, it should be understood, that -the great majority of them are but little more conversant with or -interested in the religion of their fathers, than are the costermonger -boys of whom you have written. They are Jews by the accident of their -birth, as others in the same way, with equal ignorance of the assumed -faith, are Christians.” - -I received from a Jew boy the following account of his trading pursuits -and individual aspirations. There was somewhat of a thickness in his -utterance, otherwise his speech was but little distinguishable from -that of an English street-boy. His physiognomy was decidedly Jewish, -but not of the handsomer type. His hair was light-coloured, but clean, -and apparently well brushed, without being oiled, or, as I heard a -street-boy style it, “greased”; it was long, and he said his aunt told -him it “wanted cutting sadly;” but he “liked it that way;” indeed, he -kept dashing his curls from his eyes, and back from his temples, as -he was conversing, as if he were somewhat vain of doing so. He was -dressed in a corduroy suit, old but not ragged, and wore a tolerably -clean, very coarse, and altogether buttonless shirt, which he said -“was made for one bigger than me, sir.” He had bought it for 9-1/2_d._ -in Petticoat-lane, and accounted it a bargain, as its wear would be -durable. He was selling sponges when I saw him, and of the commonest -kind, offering a large piece for 3_d._, which (he admitted) would be -rubbed to bits in no time. This sponge, I should mention, is frequently -“dressed” with sulphuric acid, and an eminent surgeon informed me that -on his servant attempting to clean his black dress coat with a sponge -that he had newly bought in the streets, the colour of the garment, to -his horror, changed to a bright purple. The Jew boy said-- - -“I believe I’m twelve. I’ve been to school, but it’s long since, and my -mother was very ill then, and I was forced to go out in the streets to -have a chance. I never was kept to school. I can’t read; I’ve forgot -all about it. I’d rather now that I could read, but very likely I could -soon learn if I could only spare time, but if I stay long in the house -I feel sick; it’s not healthy. O, no, sir, inside or out it would be -all the same to me, just to make a living and keep my health. I can’t -say how long it is since I began to sell, it’s a good long time; one -must do something. I could keep myself now, and do sometimes, but my -father--I live with him (my mother’s dead) is often laid up. Would you -like to see him, sir? He knows a deal. No, he can’t write, but he can -read a little. Can I speak Hebrew? Well, I know what you mean. O, no, -I can’t. I don’t go to synagogue; I haven’t time. My father goes, but -only sometimes; so he says, and he tells me to look out, for we must -both go by-and-by.” [I began to ask him what he knew of Joseph, and -others recorded in the Old Testament, but he bristled up, and asked -if I wanted to make a Meshumet (a convert) of him?] “I have sold all -sorts of things,” he continued, “oranges, and lemons, and sponges, -and nuts, and sweets. I should like to have a real good ginger-beer -fountain of my own; but I must wait, and there’s many in the trade. -I only go with boys of my own sort. I sell to all sorts of boys, but -that’s nothing. Very likely they’re Christians, but that’s nothing to -me. I don’t know what’s the difference between a Jew and Christian, -and I don’t want to talk about it. The Meshumets are never any good. -Anybody will tell you that. Yes, I like music and can sing a bit. I -get to a penny and sometimes a two-penny concert. No, I haven’t been -to Sussex Hall--I know where it is--I shouldn’t understand it. You get -in for nothing, that’s one thing. I’ve heard of Baron Rothschild. He -has more money than I could count in shillings in a year. I don’t know -about his wanting to get into parliament, or what it means; but he’s -sure to do it or anything else, with his money. He’s very charitable, -I’ve heard. I don’t know whether he’s a German Jew, or a Portegee, -or what. He’s a cut above me, a precious sight. I only wish he was -my uncle. I can’t say what I should do if I had his money. Perhaps I -should go a travelling, and see everything everywhere. I don’t know -how long the Jews have been in England; always perhaps. Yes, I know -there’s Jews in other countries. This sponge is Greek sponge, but I -don’t know where it’s grown, only it’s in foreign parts. Jerusalem! -Yes, I’ve heard of it. I’m of no tribe that I know of. I buy what I eat -about Petticoat-lane. No, I don’t like fish, but the stews, and the -onions with them is beautiful for two-pence; you may get a pennor’th. -The pickles--cowcumbers is best--are stunning. But they’re plummiest -with a bit of cheese or anything cold--that’s my opinion, but you may -think different. Pork! Ah! No, I never touched it; I’d as soon eat a -cat; so would my father. No, sir, I don’t think pork smells nice in a -cook-shop, but some Jew boys, as I knows, thinks it does. I don’t know -why it shouldn’t be eaten, only that it’s wrong to eat it. No, I never -touched a ham-sandwich, but other Jew boys have, and laughed at it, I -know. - -“I don’t know what I make in a week. I think I make as much on one -thing as on another. I’ve sold strawberries, and cherries, and -gooseberries, and nuts and walnuts in the season. O, as to what I -make, that’s nothing to nobody. Sometimes 6_d._ a day, sometimes -1_s._; sometimes a little more, and sometimes nothing. No, I never -sells inferior things if I can help it, but if one hasn’t stock-money -one must do as one can, but it isn’t so easy to try it on. There -was a boy beaten by a woman not long since for selling a big pottle -of strawberries that was rubbish all under the toppers. It was all -strawberry leaves, and crushed strawberries, and such like. She wanted -to take back from him the two-pence she’d paid for it, and got hold -of his pockets and there was a regular fight, but she didn’t get a -farthing back though she tried her very hardest, ’cause he slipped from -her and hooked it. So you see it’s dangerous to try it on.” [This last -remark was made gravely enough, but the lad told of the feat with such -manifest glee, that I’m inclined to believe that he himself was the -culprit in question.] “Yes, it was a Jew boy it happened to, but other -boys in the streets is just the same. Do I like the streets? I can’t -say I do, there’s too little to be made in them. _No, I wouldn’t like -to go to school, nor to be in a shop, nor be anybody’s servant but my -own._ O, I don’t know what I shall be when I’m grown up. I shall take -my chance like others.” - - -OF THE PURSUITS, DWELLINGS, TRAFFIC, ETC., OF THE JEW-BOY -STREET-SELLERS. - -To speak of the street Jew-boys as regards their traffic, manners, -haunts, and associations, is to speak of the same class of boys who -may not be employed regularly in street-sale, but are the comrades of -those who are; a class, who, on any cessation of their employment in -cigar manufactories, or indeed any capacity, will apply themselves -temporarily to street-selling, for it seems to these poor and -uneducated lads a sort of natural vocation. - -These youths, _uncontrolled_ or _incontrollable_ by their parents -(who are of the lowest class of the Jews, and who often, I am told, -care little about the matter, so long as the child can earn his own -maintenance), frequently in the evenings, after their day’s work, -resort to coffee-shops, in preference even to a cheap concert-room. In -these places they amuse themselves as men might do in a tavern where -the landlord leaves his guests to their own caprices. Sometimes one of -them reads aloud from some exciting or degrading book, the lads who -are unable to read listening with all the intentness with which many -of the uneducated attend to any one reading. The reading is, however, -not unfrequently interrupted by rude comments from the listeners. If -a newspaper be read, the “police,” or “crimes,” are mostly the parts -preferred. But the most approved way of passing the evening, among the -Jew boys, is to play at draughts, dominoes, or cribbage, and to bet on -the play. Draughts and dominoes are unpractised among the costermonger -boys, but some of the young Jews are adepts in those games. - -A gentleman who took an interest in the Jew lads told me that he had -often heard the sort of reading and comments I have described, when -he had called to talk to and perhaps expostulate with, these youths -in a coffee-shop, but he informed me that they seldom regarded any -expostulation, and seemed to be little restrained by the presence -of a stranger, the lads all muttering and laughing in a box among -themselves. I saw seven of them, a little after eight in the evening, -in a coffee-shop in the London-road,--although it is not much of a -Jewish locality,--and two of them were playing at draughts for coffee, -while the others looked on, betting halfpennies or pennies with all the -eagerness of gamblers, unrestrained in their expressions of delight -or disappointment as they thought they were winning or losing, and -commenting on the moves with all the assurance of connoisseurship; -sometimes they squabbled angrily and then suddenly dropped their -voices, as the master of the coffee-shop had once or twice cautioned -them to be quiet. - -The dwellings of boys such us these are among the worst in London, as -regards ventilation, comfort, or cleanliness. They reside in the courts -and recesses about Whitechapel and Petticoat-lane, and generally in a -garret. If not orphans they usually dwell with their father. I am told -that the care of a mother is almost indispensable to a poor Jew boy, -and having that care he seldom becomes an outcast. The Jewesses and Jew -girls are rarely itinerant street-sellers--not in the proportion of one -to twelve, compared with the men and boys; in this respect therefore -the street Jews differ widely from the English costermongers and the -street Irish, nor are the Hebrew females even stall-keepers in the same -proportion. - -One Jew boy’s lodging which I visited was in a back garret, low and -small. The boy lived with his father (a street-seller of fruit), and -the room was very bare. A few sacks were thrown over an old palliass, -a blanket seemed to be used for a quilt; there were no fire-irons nor -fender; no cooking utensils. Beside the bed was an old chest, serving -for a chair, while a board resting on a trestle did duty for a table -(this was once, I presume, a small street-stall). The one not very -large window was thick with dirt and patched all over. Altogether I -have seldom seen a more wretched apartment. The man, I was told, was -addicted to drinking. - -The callings of which the Jew boys have the monopoly are not connected -with the sale of any especial article, but rather with such things as -present a variety from those ordinarily offered in the streets, such -as cakes, sweetmeats, fried fish, and (in the winter) elder wine. -The cakes known as “boolers”--a mixture of egg, flour, and candied -orange or lemon peel, cut very thin, and with a slight colouring from -saffron or something similar--are now sold principally, and used to be -sold exclusively, by the Jew boys. Almond cakes (little round cakes -of crushed almonds) are at present vended by the Jew boys, and their -sponge biscuits are in demand. All these dainties are bought by the -street-lads of the Jew pastry-cooks. The difference in these cakes, -in their sweetmeats, and their elder wine, is that there is a dash -of spice about them not ordinarily met with. It is the same with the -fried fish, a little spice or pepper being blended with the oil. In -the street-sale of pickles the Jews have also the monopoly; these, -however, are seldom hawked, but generally sold from windows and -door-steads. The pickles are cucumbers or gherkins, and onions--a large -cucumber being 2_d._, and the smaller 1_d._ and 1/2_d._ - -The faults of the Jew lad are an eagerness to make money by any means, -so that he often grows up a cheat, a trickster, a receiver of stolen -goods, though seldom a thief, for he leaves that to others. He is -content to profit by the thief’s work, but seldom _steals_ himself, -however he may cheat. Some of these lads become rich men; others are -vagabonds all their lives. None of the Jew lads confine themselves to -the sale of any one article, nor do they seem to prefer one branch of -street-traffic to another. Even those who cannot read are exceedingly -quick. - -I may here observe in connection with the receipt of stolen goods, -that I shall deal with this subject in my account of the LONDON -THIEVES. I shall also show the connection of Jewesses and Jews with the -_prostitution of the metropolis_, in my forthcoming exposition of the -LONDON PROSTITUTES. - - -OF THE STREET JEWESSES AND STREET JEW-GIRLS. - -I have mentioned that the Jewesses and the young Jew girls, compared -with the adult Jews and Jew boys, are not street-traders in anything -like the proportion which the females were found to bear to the males -among the Irish street-folk and the English costermongers. There are, -however, a few Jewish females who are itinerant street-sellers as -well as stall keepers, in the proportion, perhaps, of one female to -seven or eight males. The majority of the street Jew-girls whom I saw -on a round were accompanied by boys who were represented to be their -brothers, and I have little doubt such was the facts, for these young -Jewesses, although often pert and ignorant, are not unchaste. Of this -I was assured by a medical gentleman who could speak with sufficient -positiveness on the subject. - -Fruit is generally sold by these boys and girls together, the lad -driving the barrow, and the girl inviting custom and handing the -purchases to the buyers. In tending a little stall or a basket at a -regular pitch, with such things as cherries or strawberries, the little -Jewess differs only from her street-selling sisters in being a brisker -trader. The stalls, with a few old knives or scissors, or odds and ends -of laces, that are tended by the Jew girls in the streets in the Jewish -quarters (I am told there are not above a dozen of them) are generally -near the shops and within sight of their parents or friends. One little -Jewess, with whom I had some conversation, had not even heard the -name of the Chief Rabbi, the Rev. Dr. Adler, and knew nothing of any -distinction between German and Portuguese Jews; she had, I am inclined -to believe, never heard of either. I am told that the whole, or nearly -the whole, of these young female traders reside with parents or -friends, and that there is among them far less than the average number -of runaways. One Jew told me he thought that the young female members -of his tribe did not tramp with the juveniles of the other sex--no, -not in the proportion of one to a hundred in comparison, he said with -a laugh, with “young women of the Christian persuasion.” My informant -had means of knowing this fact, as although still a young man, he had -traversed the greater part of England hawking perfumery, which he had -abandoned as a bad trade. A wire-worker, long familiar with tramping -and going into the country--a man upon whose word I have every reason -to rely--told me that he could not remember a single instance of his -having seen a young Jewess “travelling” with a boy. - -There are a few adult Jewesses who are itinerant traders, but very -few. I met with one who carried on her arm a not very large basket, -filled with glass wares; chiefly salt-cellars, cigar-ash plates, blue -glass dessert plates, vinegar-cruets, and such like. The greater part -of her wares appeared to be blue, and she carried nothing but glass. -She was a good-looking and neatly-dressed woman. She peeped in at -each shop-door, and up at the windows of every private house, in the -street in which I met her, crying, “Clo’, old clo’!” She bartered her -glass for old clothes, or bought the garments, dealing principally in -female attire, and almost entirely with women. She declined to say -anything about her family or her circumstances, except that she had -nothing that way to complain about, but--when I had used some names I -had authority to make mention of--she said she would, with pleasure, -tell me all about her trade, which she carried on rather than do -nothing. “When I hawk,” she said with an English accent, her face being -unmistakeably Jewish, “I hawk only good glass, and it can hardly be -called hawking, as I swop it for more than I sell it. I always ask for -the mistress, and if she wants any of my glass we come to a bargain if -we can. O, it’s ridiculous to see what things some ladies--I suppose -they must be called ladies--offer for my glass. Children’s green or -blue gauze veils, torn or faded, and not worth picking up, because no -use whatever; old ribbons, not worth dyeing, and old frocks, not worth -washing. People say, ‘as keen as a Jew,’ but ladies can’t think we’re -very keen when they offer us such rubbish. I do most at the middle kind -of houses, both shops and private. I sometimes give a little money for -such a thing as a shawl, or a fur tippet, as well as my glass--but only -when I can’t help it--to secure a bargain. Sometimes, but not often, -I get the old thing and a trifle for my glass. Occasionally I buy -outright. I don’t do much, there’s so many in the line, and I don’t go -out regularly. I can’t say how many women are in my way--very few; O, I -do middling. I told you I had no complaints to make. I don’t calculate -my profits or what I sell. My family do that and I don’t trouble -myself.” - - -OF THE SYNAGOGUES AND THE RELIGION OF THE STREET AND OTHER JEWS. - -The Jews in this country are classed as “Portuguese” and “German.” -Among them are no distinctions of tribes, but there is of rites and -ceremonies, as is set forth in the following extract (which shows -also the mode of government) from a Jewish writer: “The Spanish and -Portuguese Congregation of Jews, who are also called Sephardin (from -the word Sepharad, which signifies Spain in Hebrew), are distinct from -the German and Polish Jews in their ritual service. The prayers both -daily and for the Sabbath materially differ from each other, and the -festival prayers differ still more. Hence the Portuguese Jews have a -distinct prayer-book, and the German Jews likewise. - -“The fundamental laws are equally observed by both sects, but in -the ceremonial worship there exists numerous differences. The -Portuguese Jews eat some food during the Passover, which the German -Jews are prohibited doing by _some_ Rabbis, but their authority -is not acknowledged by the Portuguese Rabbis. Nor are the present -ecclesiastical authorities in London of the two sects the same. The -Portuguese Jews have their own Rabbis, and the German have their own. -The German Jews are much more numerous than the Portuguese; the chief -Rabbi of the German Jews is the Rev. Dr. Nathan Marcus Adler, late -Chief Rabbi of Hanover, who wears no beard, and dresses in the German -costume. The presiding Rabbi of the Portuguese Jews is the Rev. David -Meldola, a native of Leghorn; his father filled the same office in -London. Each chief Rabbi is supported by three other Rabbis, called -Dayamin, which signifies in Hebrew ‘Judges.’ Every Monday and Thursday -the Chief Rabbi of the German Jews, Dr. Adler, supported by his -three colleagues, sits for two hours in the Rabbinical College (Beth -Hamedrash), Smith’s-buildings, Leadenhall-street, to attend to all -applications from the German Jews, which may be brought before him, and -which are decided according to the Jewish law. Many disputes between -Jews in religious matters are settled in this manner; and if the Lord -Mayor or any other magistrate is told that the matter has already been -settled by the Jewish Rabbi he seldom interferes. This applies only -to civil and not to criminal cases. The Portuguese Jews have their -own hospital and their own schools. Both congregations have their -representatives in the Board of Deputies of British Jews, which board -is acknowledged by government, and is triennial. Sir Moses Montefiore, -a Jew of great wealth, who distinguished himself by his mission to -Damascus, during the persecution of the Jews in that place, and also by -his mission to Russia, some years ago, is the President of the Board. -All political matters, calling for communications with government, are -within the province of that useful board.” - -The Jews have eight synagogues in London, besides some smaller -places which may perhaps, adopting the language of another church, -be called synagogues of ease. The great synagogue in Duke’s-place -(a locality of which I have often had to speak) is the largest, but -the new synagogue, St. Helen’s, Bishopgate, is the one which most -betokens the wealth of the worshippers. It is rich with ornaments, -marble, and painted glass; the pavement is of painted marble, and -presents a perfect round, while the ceiling is a half dome. There -are besides these the Hamburg Synagogue, in Fenchurch-street; -the Portuguese Synagogue, in Bevis-marks; two smaller places, in -Cutler-street and Gun-yard, Houndsditch, known as Polish Synagogues; -the Maiden-lane (Covent-garden), Synagogue; the Western Synagogue, St. -Alban’s-place, Pall-mall; and the West London Synagogue of British -Jews, Margaret-street, Cavendish-square. The last-mentioned is the -most aristocratic of the synagogues. The service there is curtailed, -the ritual abbreviated, and the days of observance of the Jewish -festival reduced from two to one. This alteration is strongly protested -against by the other Jews, and the practices of this synagogue seem -to show a yielding to the exactions or requirements of the wealthy. -In the old days, and in almost every country in Europe, it was held -to be sinful even for a king--reverenced and privileged as such a -potentate then was--to prosecute any undertaking before he heard mass. -In some states it was said in reproach of a noble or a sovereign, “he -breakfasts before he hears mass,” and, to meet the impatience of the -Great, “hunting masses,” as they were styled, or epitomes of the full -service, were introduced. The Jews, some eight or nine years back in -this country, seem to have followed this example; such was the case, at -least, as regards London and the wealthier of the professors of this -ancient faith. - -The synagogues are not well attended, the congregations being smaller -in proportion to the population than those of the Church of England. -Neither, during the observance of the Jewish worship, is there any -especial manifestation of the service being regarded as of a sacred -and divinely-ordained character. There is a buzzing talk among the -attendants during the ceremony, and an absence of seriousness and -attention. Some of the Jews, however, show the greatest devotion, and -the same may be said of the Jewesses, who sit apart in the synagogues, -and are not required to attend so regularly as the men. - -I should not have alluded to this absence of the solemnities of -devotion, as regards the congregations of the Hebrews, had I not heard -it regretted by Hebrews themselves. “It is shocking,” one said. Another -remarked, “To attend the synagogue is looked upon too much as a matter -of _business_; but perhaps there is the same spirit in some of the -Christian churches.” - -As to the street-Jews, religion is little known among them, or little -cared for. They are indifferent to it--not to such a degree, indeed, -as the costermongers, for they are not so ignorant a class--but yet -contrasting strongly in their neglect with the religious intensity of -the majority of the Roman Catholic Irish of the streets. In common -justice I must give the remark of a Hebrew merchant with whom I had -some conversation on the subject:--“I can’t say much about street-Jews, -for my engagements lead me away from them, and I don’t know much about -street-Christians. But if out of a hundred Jews you find that only ten -of them care for their religion, how many out of a hundred Christians -of any sort will care about theirs? Will ten of them care? If you -answer, but they are only nominal Christians, my reply is, the Jews are -only nominal Jews--Jews by birth, and not by faith.” - -Among the Jews I conversed with--and of course only the more -intelligent understood, or were at all interested in, the question--I -heard the most contemptuous denunciation of all converts from Judaism. -One learned informant, who was by no means blind to the short-comings -of his own people, expressed his conviction that no Jew had ever been -really _converted_. He had abandoned his faith from interested motives. -On this subject I am not called upon to express any opinion, and merely -mention it to show a prevalent feeling among the class I am describing. - -The street-Jews, including the majority of the more prosperous and most -numerous class among them, the old-clothes men, are far from being -religious in feeling, or well versed in their faith, and are, perhaps, -in that respect on a level with the mass of the members of the Church -of England; I say of the Church of England, because of that church the -many who do not profess religion are usually accounted members. - -In the Rabbinical College, I may add, is the finest Jewish library -in the world. It has been collected for several generations under -the care of the Chief Rabbis. The public are admitted, having first -obtained tickets, given gratuitously, at the Chief Rabbi’s residence in -Crosby-square. - - -OF THE POLITICS, LITERATURE, AND AMUSEMENTS OF THE JEWS. - -Perhaps there is no people in the world, possessing the average amount -of intelligence in busy communities, who care so little for politics -as the general body of the Jews. The wealthy classes may take an -interest in the matter, but I am assured, and by those who know their -countrymen well, that even with them such a quality as patriotism is a -mere word. This may be accounted for in a great measure, perhaps, from -an hereditary feeling. The Jew could hardly be expected to love a land, -or to strive for the promotion of its general welfare, where he felt -he was but a sojourner, and where he was at the best but tolerated and -often proscribed. But this feeling becomes highly reprehensible when it -extends--as I am assured it does among many of the rich Jews--to their -own people, for whom, apart from conventionalities, say my informants, -_they care nothing whatever_; for so long as they are undisturbed in -money-getting at home, their brethren may be persecuted all over the -world, while the rich Jew merely shrugs his shoulders. An honourable -exception, however, exists in Sir Moses Montefiore, who has honourably -distinguished himself in the relief of his persecuted brethren on more -than one occasion. The great of the earth no longer spit upon the -gabardine of the Jewish millionaire, nor do they draw his teeth to -get his money, but the great Jew capitalists, with powerful influence -in many a government, do not seek to direct that influence for the -bettering of the lot of their poorer brethren, who, at the same time, -brook the restrictions and indignities which they have to suffer with -a perfect philosophy. In fact, the Jews have often been the props of -the courts who have persecuted them; that is to say, two or three -Jewish firms occasionally have not hesitated to lend millions to the -governments by whom they and their people have been systematically -degraded and oppressed. - -I was told by a Hebrew gentleman (a professional man) that so little -did the Jews themselves care for “Jewish emancipation,” that he -questioned if one man in ten, actuated solely by his own feelings, -would trouble himself to walk the length of the street in which he -lived to secure Baron Rothschild’s admission into the House of Commons. -This apathy, my informant urged with perfect truth, in nowise affected -the merits of the question, though he was convinced it formed a great -obstacle to Baron Rothschild’s success; “for governments,” he said, -“won’t give boons to people who don’t care for them; and, though this -is called a boon, I look upon it as only a _right_.” - -When such is the feeling of the comparatively wealthier Jews, no one -can wonder that I found among the Jewish street-sellers and old-clothes -men with whom I talked on the subject--and their more influential -brethren gave me every facility to prosecute my inquiry among them--a -perfect indifference to, and nearly as perfect an ignorance of, -politics. Perhaps no men buy so few newspapers, and read them so -little, as the Jews generally. The street-traders, when I alluded to -the subject, said they read little but the “Police Reports.” - -Among the body of the Jews there is little love of Literature. -They read far less (let it be remembered I have acquired all this -information from Jews themselves, and from men who could not be -mistaken in the matter), and are far less familiar with English -authorship, either historical or literary, than are the poorer English -artizans. Neither do the wealthiest classes of the Jews care to -foster literature among their own people. One author, a short time -ago, failing to interest the English Jews, to promote the publication -of his work, went to the United States, and his book was issued in -Philadelphia, the city of Quakers! - -The Amusements of the Jews--and here I speak more especially of the -street or open-air traders--are the theatres and concert-rooms. The -City of London Theatre, the Standard Theatre, and other playhouses at -the East-end of London, are greatly resorted to by the Jews, and more -especially by the younger members of the body, who sometimes constitute -a rather obstreperous gallery. The cheap concerts which they patronize -are generally of a superior order, for the Jews are fond of music, and -among them have been many eminent composers and performers, so that the -trash and jingle which delights the costermonger class would not please -the street Jew boys; hence their concerts are superior to the general -run of cheap concerts, and are almost always “got up” by their own -people. - -Sussex-hall, in Leadenhall-street, is chiefly supported by Israelites; -there the “Jews’ and General Literary and Scientific Institution” is -established, with reading-rooms and a library; and there lectures, -concerts, &c., are given as at similar institutions. Of late, on every -Friday evening, Sussex-hall has been thrown open to the general public, -without any charge for admission, and lectures have been delivered -gratuitously, on literature, science, art, and general subjects, which -have attracted crowded audiences. The lecturers are chiefly Jews, but -the lectures are neither theological nor sectarian. The lecturers -are Mr. M. H. Bresslau, the Rev. B. H. Ascher, Mr. J. L. Levison (of -Brighton), and Mr. Clarke, a merchant in the City, a Christian, whose -lectures are very popular among the Jews. The behaviour of the Jew -attendants, and the others, the Jews being the majority, is decorous. -They seem “to like to receive information,” I was told; and a gentleman -connected with the hall argued that this attention showed a readiness -for proper instruction, when given in an attractive form, which -favoured the opinion that the young Jews, when not thrown in childhood -into the vortex of money-making, were very easily teachable, while -their natural quickness made them both ready and willing to be taught. - -My old-clothes buying informant mentioned a Jewish eating-house. I -visited one in the Jew quarter, but saw nothing to distinguish it from -Christian resorts of the same character and cheapness (the “plate” of -good hot meat costing 4_d._, and vegetables 1_d._), except that it was -fuller of Jews than of Christians, by three to two, perhaps, and that -there was no “pork” in the waiter’s specification of the fare. - - -OF THE CHARITIES, SCHOOLS, AND EDUCATION OF THE JEWS. - -The Jewish charities are highly honourable to the body, for they allow -none of their people to live or die in a parish workhouse. It is true -that among the Jews in London there are many individuals of immense -wealth; but there are also many rich Christians who care not one jot -for the need of their brethren. It must be borne in mind also, that not -only do the Jews voluntarily support their own poor and institutions, -but they contribute--compulsorily it is true--their quota to the -support of the English poor and church; and, indeed, pay their due -proportion of all the parliamentary or local imposts. This is the more -honourable and the more remarkable among the Jews, when we recollect -their indisputable greed of money. - -If a Jew be worn out in his old age, and unable to maintain himself, -he is either supported by the contributions of his friends, or out of -some local or general fund, or provided for in some asylum, and all -this seems to be done with a less than ordinary fuss and display, so -that the recipient of the charity feels himself more a pensioner than -a pauper. - -The Jews’ Hospital, in the Mile-end Road, is an extensive building, -into which feeble old men and destitute children of both sexes are -admitted. Here the boys are taught trades, and the girls qualified -for respectable domestic service. The Widows’ Home, in Duke-street, -Aldgate, is for poor Hebrew widows. The Orphan Asylum, built at the -cost of Mr. A. L. Moses, and supported by subscription, now contains -14 girls and 8 boys; a school is attached to the asylum, which is -in the Tenter Ground, Goodman’s-fields. The Hand-in-Hand Asylum, -for decayed old people, men and women, is in Duke’s-place, Aldgate. -There are likewise alms-houses for the Jews, erected also by Mr. A. -L. Moses, at Mile-end, and other alms-houses, erected by Mr. Joel -Emanuel, in Wellclose-square, near the Tower. There are, further, three -institutions for granting marriage dowers to fatherless children; -an institution in Bevis-marks, for the burial of the poor of the -congregation; “Beth Holim;” a house for the reception of the sick -poor, and of poor lying-in women belonging to the congregation of the -Spanish and Portuguese Jews; “Magasim Zobim,” for lending money to aid -apprenticeships among boys, to fit girls for good domestic service, -and for helping poor children to proceed to foreign parts, when it is -believed that the change will be advantageous to them; and “Noten Lebem -Larcebim;” to distribute bread to the poor of the congregation on the -day preceding the Sabbath. - -I am assured that these institutions are well-managed, and that, if -the charities are abused by being dispensed to undeserving objects, it -is usually with the knowledge of the managers, who often let the abuse -pass, as a smaller evil than driving a man to theft or subjecting him -to the chance of starvation. One gentleman, familiar with most of these -establishments, said to me with a laugh, “I believe, if you have had -any conversation with the gentlemen who manage these matters, you will -have concluded that they are not the people to be imposed upon very -easily.” - -There are seven Jewish schools in London, four in the city, and three -at the West-end, all supported by voluntary contributions. The Jews’ -Free School, in Bell-lane, Spitalfields, is the largest, and is -adapted for the education of no fewer than 1200 boys and girls. The -late Baroness de Rothschild provided clothing, yearly, for all the -pupils in the school. In the Infant School, Houndsditch, are about 400 -little scholars. There are also the Orphan Asylum School, previously -mentioned; the Western Jewish schools, for girls, in Dean-street, and, -for boys, in Greek-street, Soho, but considered as one establishment; -and the West Metropolitan School, for girls, in Little Queen-street, -and, for boys, in High Holborn, also considered as one establishment. - -Notwithstanding these means of education, the body of the poorer, or -what in other callings might be termed the working-classes, are not -even tolerably well educated; they are indifferent to the matter. -With many, the multiplication table seems to constitute what they -think the acme of all knowledge needful to a man. The great majority -of the Jew boys, in the street, cannot read. A smaller portion can -read, but so imperfectly that their ability to read detracts nothing -from their ignorance. So neglectful or so necessitous (but I heard the -ignorance attributed to neglect far more frequently than necessity) -are the poorer Jews, and so soon do they take their children away from -school, “to learn and do something for themselves,” and so irregular -is their attendance, on the plea that the time cannot be spared, and -the boy must do something for himself, that many children leave the -free-schools not only about as ignorant as when they entered them, but -almost with an incentive to continued ignorance; for they knew nothing -of reading, except that to acquire its rudiments is a pain, a labour, -and a restraint. On some of the Jew boys the vagrant spirit is strong; -they _will_ be itinerants, if not wanderers,--though this is a spirit -in no way confined to the Jew boys. - -Although the wealthier Jews may be induced to give money towards the -support of their poor, I heard strong strictures passed upon them -concerning their indifference towards their brethren in all other -respects. Even if they subscribed to a school, they never cared whether -or not it was attended, and that, much as was done, far more was in -the power of so wealthy and distinct a people. “This is all the more -inexcusable,” was said to me by a Jew, “because there are so many rich -Jews in London, and if they exerted and exercised a broader liberality, -as they might in instituting Jewish colleges, for instance, to promote -knowledge among the middle-classes, and if they cared more about -employing their own people, their liberality would be far more fully -felt than similar conduct in a Christian, because they have a smaller -sphere to influence. As to employing their own people, there are -numbers of the rich Jews who will employ any stranger in preference, -if he work a penny a week cheaper. This sort of _clan_ employment,” -continued my Jew informant, “should never be exclusive, but there -might, I think, be a judicious preference.” - -I shall now proceed to set forth an account of the sums yearly -subscribed for purposes of education and charity by the Jews. - -The Jews’ Free School in Spitalfields is supported by voluntary -contributions to the amount of about 1200_l._ yearly. To this sum a few -Christians contribute, as to some other Hebrew institutions (which I -shall specify), while Jews often are liberal supporters of Christian -public charities--indeed, some of the wealthier Jews are looked upon -by the members of their own faith as inclined to act more generously -where Christian charities, with the prestige of high aristocratic -and fashionable patronage, are in question, than towards their own -institutions. To the Jews’ Free School the Court of Common Council of -the Corporation of London lately granted 100_l._, through the exertions -of Mr. Benjamin S. Phillips, of Newgate-street, a member of the -court. The Baroness Lionel de Rothschild (as I have formerly stated of -the late Baroness) supplies clothing for the scholars. The school is -adapted for the reception of 1200 boys and girls in equal proportion; -about 900 is the average attendance. - -The Jews’ Infant School in Houndsditch, with an average attendance -approaching 400, is similarly supported at a cost of from 800_l._ to -1000_l._ yearly. - -The Orphan Asylum School, in Goodman’s-fields, receives a somewhat -larger support, but in the expenditure is the cost of an asylum (before -mentioned, and containing 22 inmates). The funds are about 1500_l._ -yearly. Christians subscribe to this institution also--Mr. Frederick -Peel, M.P., taking great interest in it. The attendance of pupils is -from 300 to 400. - -It might be tedious to enumerate the other schools, after having -described the principal; I will merely add, therefore, that the yearly -contributions to each are from 700_l._ to 1000_l._, and the pupils -taught in each from 200 to 400. Of these further schools there are four -already specified. - -The Jews’ Hospital, at Mile End, is maintained at a yearly cost of -about 3000_l._, to which Christians contribute, but not to a twentieth -of the amount collected. The persons benefited are worn-out old men, -and destitute children, while the number of almspeople is from 150 to -200 yearly. - -The other two asylums, &c., which I have specified, are maintained at -a cost of about 800_l._ each, as a yearly average, and the Almshouses, -three in number, at about half that sum. The persons relieved by -these last-mentioned institutions number about 250, two-thirds, or -thereabouts, being in the asylums. - -The Loan Societies are three: the Jewish Ladies Visiting and Benevolent -Loan Society; the Linusarian Loan Society (why called Linusarian a -learned Hebrew scholar could not inform me, although he had asked -the question of others); and the Magasim Zobim (the Good Deeds), a -Portuguese Jews’ Loan Society. - -The business of these three societies is conducted on the same -principle. Money is lent on personal or any security approved by the -managers, and no interest is charged to the borrower. The amount -lent yearly is from 600_l._ to 700_l._ by each society, the whole -being repaid and with sufficient punctuality; a few weeks’ “grace” is -occasionally allowed in the event of illness or any unforeseen event. -The Loan Societies have not yet found it necessary to proceed against -any of their debtors; my informant thought this forbearance extended -over six years. - -There is not among the Jewish street-traders, as among the -costermongers and others, a class forming part, or having once formed -part of themselves, and living by usury and loan mongering, where -they have amassed a few pounds. Whatever may be thought of the Jews’ -usurious dealings as regards the general public, the poorer classes of -their people are not subjected to the exactions of usury, with all its -clogs to a struggling man’s well-doing. Sometimes the amount required -by an old-clothes man, or other street-trader, is obtained by or for -him at one of these loan societies. Sometimes it is advanced by the -usual buyer of the second-hand garments collected by the street-Jew. No -security in such cases is given beyond--strange as it may sound--the -personal honour of an old-clothes man! An experienced man told me, that -taking all the class of Jew street-sellers, who are a very fluctuating -body, with the exception of the old-clothes men, the sum thus advanced -as stock-money to them might be seldom less in any one year than -300_l._, and seldom more than 500_l._ There is a prevalent notion -that the poorer Jews, when seeking charity, are supplied with goods -for street-sale by their wealthy brethren, and never with money--this -appears to be unfounded. - -Now to sum up the above items we find that the yearly cost of the -Jewish schools is about 7000_l._, supplying the means of instruction to -3000 children (out of a population of 18,000 of all ages, one-half of -whom, perhaps, are under 20 years). The yearly outlay in the asylums, -&c., is, it appears, 5800_l._ annually, benefiting or maintaining about -420 individuals (at a cost of nearly 14_l._ per head). If we add no -more than 200_l._ yearly for the minor charities or institutions I -have previously alluded to, we find 14,000_l._ expended annually in -the public schools and charities of the Jews of London, independently -of about 2000_l._, which is the amount of the loans to those requiring -temporary aid. - -We have before seen that the number of Jews in London is estimated -by the best informed at about 18,000; hence it would appear that -the charitable donations of the Jews of London amount on an average -to a little less than 1_l._ per head. Let us compare this with the -benevolence of the Christians. At the same ratio the sum devoted to the -charities of England and Wales should be very nearly 16,000,000_l._, -but, according to the most liberal estimates, it does not reach half -that amount; the rent of the land and other fixed property, together -with the interest of the money left for charitable purposes in England -and Wales, is 1,200,000_l._ If, however, we add to the voluntary -contributions the sum raised compulsorily by assessment in aid of -the poor (about 7,000,000_l._ per annum), the ratio of the English -Christian’s contributions to his needy brethren throughout the country -will be very nearly the same as that of the Jew’s. Moreover, if we -turn our attention to the benevolent bequests and donations of the -Christians of London, we shall find that their munificence does not -fall far short of that of the metropolitan Jews. The gross amounts of -the charitable contributions of London are given below, together with -the numbers of institutions; and it will thus be seen that the sum -devoted to such purposes amounts to no less than 1,764,733_l._, or -upwards of a million and three-quarters sterling for a population of -about two millions! - - Income Income - derived derived - from voluntary from - contributions. property. - 12 General medical hospitals £31,265 £111,641 - 50 Medical charities for special - purposes 27,974 68,690 - 35 General dispensaries 11,470 2,954 - 12 Preservation of life and - public morals 8,730 2,773 - 18 Reclaiming the fallen and - staying the progress of - crime 16,299 13,737 - 14 Relief of general destitution - and distress 20,646 3,234 - 12 Relief of specified distress 19,473 10,408 - 14 Aiding the resources of - the industrious 4,677 2,569 - 11 For the blind, deaf, and - dumb 11,965 22,797 - 103 Colleges, hospitals, and - other asylums for the aged 5,857 77,190 - 16 Charitable pension societies 15,790 3,199 - 74 Charitable and provident, - chiefly for specified classes 19,905 83,322 - 31 Asylums for orphans and - other necessitous children 55,466 25,549 - 10 Educational foundations 15,000 78,112 - 4 Charitable modern ditto 4,000 9,300 - 40 School societies, religious - books, church aiding, and - Christian visitings, &c. 159,853 158,336 - 35 Bible and missionary 494,494 63,058 - ------------------------ - 491 Total 1,022,864 741,869 - -In connection with the statistical part of this subject I may mention -that the Chief Rabbis each receive 1200_l._ a year; the Readers of the -Synagogues, of whom there are twelve in London, from 300_l._ to 400_l._ -a year each; the Secretaries of the Synagogues, of whom there are also -twelve, from 200_l._ to 300_l._ each; the twelve under Secretaries -from 100_l._ to 150_l._; and six Dayanim 100_l._ a year each. These -last-mentioned officers are looked upon by many of the Jews, as the -“poor curates” may be by the members of the Church of England--as being -exceedingly under-paid. The functions of the Dayanim have been already -mentioned, and, I may add, that they must have received expensive -scholarly educations, as for about four hours daily they have to read -the Talmud in the places of worship. - -The yearly payment of these sacerdotal officials, then, independent -of other outlay, amounts to about 11,700_l._; this is raised from the -profits of the seats in the synagogues and voluntary contributions, -donations, subscriptions, bequests, &c., among the Jews. - -I have before spoken of a Board of Deputies, in connection with the -Jews, and now proceed to describe its constitution. It is not a -parliament among the Jews, I am told nor a governing power, but what -may be called a directing or regulating body. It is authorized by -the body of Jews, and recognised by her Majesty’s Government, as an -established corporation, with powers to treat and determine on matters -of civil and political policy affecting the condition of the Hebrews in -this country, and interferes in no way with religious matters. It is -neither a metropolitan nor a local nor a detached board, but, as far as -the Jews in England may be so described, a national board. This board -is elected triennially. The electors are the “seat-holders” in the -Jewish synagogues; that is to say, they belong to the class of Jews who -promote the support of the synagogues by renting seats, and so paying -towards the cost of those establishments. - -There are in England, Ireland, and Scotland, about 1000 of these -seat-holders exercising the franchise, or rather entitled to exercise -it, but many of them are indifferent to the privilege, as is often -testified by the apathy shown on the days of election. Perhaps -three-fourths of the privileged number may vote. The services of the -representatives are gratuitous, and no qualification is required, but -the elected are usually the leading metropolitan Jews. The proportion -of the electors voting is in the ratio of the deputies elected. -London returns 12 deputies; Liverpool, 2; Manchester, 2; Birmingham, -2; Edinburgh, Dublin, (the only places in either Scotland or Ireland -returning deputies), Dover, Portsmouth, Southampton, Plymouth, -Canterbury, Norwich, Swansea, Newcastle-on-Tyne, and two other places -(according to the number of seat-holders), each one deputy, thus making -up the number to 30. On election days the attendance, as I have said, -is often small, but fluctuating according to any cause of excitement, -which, however, is but seldom. - -The question which has of late been discussed by this Board, and -which is now under consideration, and negotiation with the Education -Commissioners of her Majesty’s Privy Council, is the obtaining a -grant of money in the same proportion as it has been granted to other -educational establishments. Nothing has as yet been given to the Jewish -schools, and the matter is still undetermined. - -With religious or sacerdotal questions the Board of Deputies does not, -or is not required to meddle; it leaves all such matters to the bodies -or tribunals I have mentioned. Indeed the deputies concern themselves -only with what may be called the _public_ interests of the Jews, -both as a part of the community and as a distinct people. The Jewish -institutions, however, are not an exception to the absence of unanimity -among the professors of the same creeds, for the members of the Reform -Synagogue in Margaret-street, Cavendish-square, are not recognised -as entitled to vote, and do not vote, accordingly, in the election -of the Jewish deputies. Indeed, the Reform members, whose synagogue -was established eight years ago, were formally excommunicated by a -declaration of the late Chief Rabbi, but this seems now to be regarded -as a mere matter of form, for the members have lately partaken of all -the rites to which orthodox Jews are entitled. - - -OF THE FUNERAL CEREMONIES, FASTS, AND CUSTOMS OF THE JEWS. - -The funeral ceremonies of the Jews are among the things which tend to -preserve the distinctness and peculiarity of this people. Sometimes, -though now rarely, the nearest relatives of the deceased wear sackcloth -(a coarse crape), and throw ashes and dust on their hair, for the -term during which the corpse remains unburied, this term being the -same as among Christians. When the corpse is carried to the Jews’ -burial-ground for interment the coffin is frequently opened, and -the corpse addressed, in a Hebrew formula, by any relative, friend, -or acquaintance who may be present. The words are to the following -purport: “If I have done anything that might be offensive--pardon, -pardon, pardon.” After that the coffin is carried round the -burial-ground in a circuit, children chanting the 90th Psalm in its -original Hebrew, “a prayer of Moses, the man of God.” The passages -which the air causes to be most emphatic are these verses:-- - -“3. Thou turnest man to destruction; and sayest, Return, ye children of -men. - -“4. For a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is -past, and as a watch in the night. - -“5. Thou carriest them away as with a flood; they are as a sleep: in -the morning they are like grass which groweth up. - -“6. In the morning it flourisheth, and groweth up; in the evening it is -cut down, and withereth. - -“10. The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by -reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength -labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.” - -The coffin is then carried into a tent, and the funeral prayers, -in Hebrew, are read. When it has been lowered into the grave, the -relatives, and indeed all the attendants at the interment, fill up -the grave, shovelling in the earth. In the Jews’ burial-ground are no -distinctions, no vaults or provisions for aristocratic sepulture. The -very rich and the very poor, the outcast woman and the virtuous and -prosperous gentlewoman, “grossly familiar, side by side consume.” A -Jewish funeral is a matter of high solemnity. - -The burial fees are 12_s._ for children, and from 2_l._ to 3_l._ for -adults. These fees are not the property of the parties officiating, but -form a portion of the synagogue funds for general purposes, payment of -officers, &c. No fees are charged to the relatives of poor Jews. - -Two fasts are rigidly observed by the Jews, and even by those Jews who -are usually indifferent to the observances of their religion. These are -the Black Fast, in commemoration of the destruction of Jerusalem, and -the White Fast, in commemoration of the atonement. On each of those -occasions the Jews abstain altogether from food for 24 hours, or from -sunset to sunset. - - -OF THE JEW STREET-SELLERS OF ACCORDIONS, AND OF THEIR STREET MUSICAL -PURSUITS. - -I conclude my account of the Street-Jews with an account of the -accordion sellers. - -Although the Jews, as a people, are musical, they are little concerned -at present either in the sale of musical instruments in the streets, -or in street-music or singing. Until within a few years, however, the -street-sale of accordions was carried on by itinerant Jews, and had -previously been carried on most extensively in the country, even in the -far north of England. Some years back well-dressed Jews “travelled” -with stocks of accordions. In many country towns and in gentlemen’s -country mansions, in taverns, and schools also, these accordions were -then a novelty. The Jew could play on the instrument, and carried a -book of instructions, which usually formed part of the bargain, and by -the aid of which, he made out, any one, even without previous knowledge -of the practical art of music, could easily teach himself--nothing -but a little practice in fingering being wanted to make a good -accordion-player. At first the accordions sold by the Jew hawkers were -good, two guineas being no unusual price to be paid for one, even to a -street-seller, while ten and twenty shillings were the lower charges. -But the accordions were in a few years “made slop,” cheap instruments -being sent to this country from Germany, and sold at less than half -their former price, until the charge fell as low as 3_s._ 6_d._ or even -2_s._ 6_d._--but only for “rubbish,” I was told. When the fragility -and inferior musical qualities of these instruments came to be known, -it was found almost impossible to sell in the streets even superior -instruments, however reasonable in price, and thus the trade sunk to a -nonentity. So little demand is there now for these instruments that no -pawnbroker, I am assured, will advance money on one, however well made. - -The itinerant accordion trade was always much greater in the country -than in London, for in town, I was told, few would be troubled to try, -or even listen, to the tones of an accordion played by a street-seller, -at their own doors, or in their houses. While there were 100 or 120 -Jews hawking accordions in the country, there would not be 20 in -London, including even the suburbs, where the sale was the best. - -Calculating that, when the trade was at its best, 130 Jews hawked -accordions in town and country, and that each sold three a week, at -an average price of 20_s._ each, or six in a week at an average price -of 10_s._ each, the profit being from 50 to 100 per cent., we find -upwards of 20,000_l._ expended in the course of the year in accordions -of which, however, little more than a sixth part, or about 3000_l._, -was expended in London. This was only when the trade had all the -recommendations of novelty, and in the following year perhaps not half -the amount was realized. One informant thought that the year 1828-9 -was the best for the sale of these instruments, but he spoke only from -memory. At the present time I could not find or hear of one street-Jew -selling accordions; I remember, however, having seen one within the -present year. Most of the Jews who travelled with them have emigrated. - -It is very rarely indeed that, fond as the Jews are of music, any of -them are to be found in the bands of street-musicians, or of such -street-performers as the Ethiopian serenaders. If there be any, I was -told, they were probably not pure Jews, but of Christian parentage -on one side or the other, and not associating with their own people. -At the cheap concert-rooms, however, Jews are frequently singers, -but rarely the Jewesses, while some of the twopenny concerts at the -East-end are got up and mainly patronized by the poorer class of Jews. -Jews are also to be found occasionally among the supernumeraries of -the theatres; but, when not professionally engaged, these still live -among their own people. I asked one young Jew who occasionally sang -at a cheap concert-room, what description of songs they usually sung, -and he answered “all kinds.” He, it seems, sang comic songs, but his -friend Barney, who had just left him, sang sentimental songs. He earned -1_s._ and sometimes 2_s._, but more frequently 1_s._, three or four -nights in the week, as he had no regular engagement. In the daytime he -worked at cigar-making, but did not like it, it was “_so confining_.” -He had likewise sung, but gratuitously, at concerts got up for the -benefit of any person “bad off.” He knew nothing of the science and -art of music. Of the superior class of Jew vocalists and composers, it -is not of course necessary here to speak, as they do not come within -the scope of my present subject. Of Hebrew youths thus employed in -cheap and desultory concert-singing, there are in the winter season, I -am told, from 100 to 150, few, if any, depending entirely upon their -professional exertions, but being in circumstances similar to those of -my young informant. - - -OF THE STREET-BUYERS OF HOGS’-WASH. - -The trade in hogs’-wash, or in the refuse of the table, is by no means -insignificant. The street-buyers are of the costermonger class, and -some of them have been costermongers, and “when not kept going regular -on wash,” I was told, are “costers still,” but with the advantage of -having donkeys, ponies, or horses and carts, and frequently shops, as -the majority of the wash-buyers have; for they are often greengrocers -as well as costermongers. - -The hogs’ food obtained by these street-folk, or, as I most frequently -heard it called, the “wash,” is procured from the eating-houses, the -coffee-houses which are also eating-houses (with “hot joints from 12 -to 4”), the hotels, the club-houses, the larger mansions, and the -public institutions. It is composed of the scum and lees of all broths -and soups; of the washings of cooking utensils, and of the dishes and -plates used at dinners and suppers; of small pieces of meat left on the -plates of the diners in taverns, clubs, or cook-shops; of pieces of -potato, or any remains of vegetables; of any viands, such as puddings, -left in the plates in the same manner; of gristle; of pieces of stale -bread, or bread left at table; occasionally of meat kept, whether -cooked or uncooked, until “blown,” and unfit for consumption (one man -told me that he had found whole legs of mutton in the wash he bought -from a great eating-house, but very rarely): of potato-peelings; of -old and bad potatoes; of “stock,” or the remains of meat stewed for -soup, which was not good enough for sale to be re-used by the poor; of -parings of every kind of cheese or meat; and of the many things which -are considered “only fit for pigs.” - -It is not always, however, that the unconsumed food of great houses -or of public bodies (where the dinners are a part of the institution) -goes to the wash-tub. At Buckingham-palace, I am told, it is given to -poor people who have tickets for the receipt of it. At Lincoln’s-inn -the refuse or leavings of the bar dinners are sold to men who retail -them, usually small chandlers, and the poor people, who have the means, -buy this broken meat very readily at 4_d._, 6_d._, and 8_d._ the -pound, which is cheap for good cooked meat. Pie-crust, obtained by its -purveyors in the same way, is sold, perhaps with a small portion of -the contents of the pie, in penny and twopenny-worths. A man familiar -with this trade told me that among the best customers for this kind of -second-hand food were women of the town of the poorer class, who were -always ready, whenever they had a few pence at command, to buy what was -tasty, cheap, and ready-cooked, because “they hadn’t no trouble with -it, but only just to eat it.” - -One of the principal sources of the “wash” supply is the cook-shops, -or eating-houses, where the “leavings” on the plates are either the -perquisites of the waiters or waitresses, or looked sharply after by -master or mistress. There are also in these places the remains of -soups, and the potato-peelings, &c., of which I have spoken, together -with the keen appropriation to a profitable use of every crumb and -scrap--when it is a portion of the gains of a servant, or when it adds -to the receipts of the proprietor. In calculating the purchase-value of -the good-will of an eating-house, the “wash” is as carefully considered -as is the number of daily guests. - -One of the principal street-buyers from the eating-houses, and in -several parts of town, is Jemmy Divine, of Lambeth. He is a pig-dealer, -but also sells his wash to others who keep pigs. He sends round a -cart and horse under the care of a boy, or of a man, whom he may have -employed, or drives it himself, and he often has more carts than one. -In his cart are two or three tubs, well secured, so that they may not -be jostled out, into which the wash is deposited. He contracts by the -week, month, or quarter, with hotel-keepers and others, for their wash, -paying from 10_l._ to as high as 50_l._ a year, about 20_l._ being an -average for well-frequented taverns and “dining-rooms.” The wash-tubs -on the premises of these buyers are often offensive, sometimes sending -forth very sour smells. - -In Sharp’s-alley, Smithfield, is another man buying quantities of -wash, and buying fat and grease extensively. There is one also in -Prince’s-street, Lambeth, who makes it his sole business to collect -hogs’-wash; he was formerly a coal-heaver and wretchedly poor, but is -now able to make a decent livelihood in this trade, keeping a pony -and cart. He generally keeps about 30 pigs, but also sells hogs’ food -retail to any pig-keeper, the price being 4_d._ to 6_d._ a pail-full, -according to the quality, as the collectors are always anxious to -have the wash “rich,” and will not buy it if cabbage-leaves or the -parings of green vegetables form a part of it. This man and the others -often employ lads to go round for wash, paying them 2_s._ a week, -and finding them in board. They are the same class of boys as those -I have described as coster-boys, and are often strong young fellows. -These lads--or men hired for the purpose--are sometimes sent round -to the smaller cook-shops and to private houses, where the wash is -given to them for the trouble of carrying it away, in preference to -its being thrown down the drain. Sometimes only 1_d._ a pail is paid -by the street-buyer, provided the stuff be taken away punctually and -regularly. These youths or men carry pails after the fashion of a -milkman. - -The supply from the workhouses is very large. It is often that the -paupers do not eat all the rice-pudding allowed, or all the bread, -while soup is frequently left, and potatoes; and these leavings are -worthless, except for pig-meat, as they would soon turn sour. It is the -same, though not to the same extent, in the prisons. - -What I have said of some of the larger eating-houses relates also to -the club-houses. - -There are a number of wash-buyers in the suburbs, who purchase, or -obtain their stock gratuitously, at gentlemen’s houses, and retail it -either to those who feed pigs as a business, or else to the many, I was -told, who live a little way out of town, and “like to grow their own -bacon.” Many of these men perform the work themselves, without a horse -and cart, and are on their feet every day and all day long, except on -Sundays, carrying hogs’-wash from the seller, or to the buyer. One man, -who had been in this trade at Woolwich, told me that he kept pigs at -one time, but ceased to do so, as his customers often murmured at the -thin quality of the wash, declaring that he gave all the best to his -own animals. - -If it be estimated that there are 200 men daily buying hogs’-wash in -London and the suburbs, within 15 miles, and that each collects only -20 pails per day, paying 2_d._ per pail (thus allowing for what is -collected without purchase), we find 10,400_l._ expended annually in -buying hogs’-wash. - - -OF THE STREET-BUYERS OF TEA-LEAVES. - -An extensive trade, but less extensive, I am informed, than it was a -few years ago, is carried on in tea-leaves, or in the leaves of the -herb after their having been subjected, in the usual way, to decoction. -These leaves are, so to speak, re-manufactured, in spite of great risk -and frequent exposure, and in defiance of the law. The 17th Geo. III., -c. 29, is positive and stringent on the subject:-- - -“Every person, whether a dealer in or seller of tea, or not, who shall -dye or fabricate any sloe-leaves, liquorice-leaves _or the leaves of -tea that have been used_, or the leaves of the ash, elder or other -tree, shrub or plant, in imitation of tea, or who shall mix or colour -such leaves with terra Japonica, copperas, sugar, molasses, clay, -logwood or other ingredient, or who shall sell or expose to sale, or -have in custody, any such adulterations in imitation of tea, shall for -every pound forfeit, on conviction, by the oath of one witness, before -one justice, 5_l._; or, on non-payment, be committed to the House of -Correction for not more than twelve or less than six months.” - -The same act also authorizes a magistrate, on the oath of an excise -officer, or any one, by whom he suspects this illicit trade to be -carried on, to seize the herbs, or spurious teas, and the whole -apparatus that may be found on the premises, the herbs to be burnt and -the other articles sold, the proceeds of such a sale, after the payment -of expenses, going half to the informer and half to the poor of the -parish. - -It appears evident, from the words of this act which I have -_italicised_, that the use of tea-leaves for the robbery of the public -and the defrauding of the revenue has been long in practice. The -extract also shows what other cheats were formerly resorted to--the -substitutes most popular with the tea-manufacturers at one time being -sloe-leaves. If, however, one-tenth of the statements touching the -applications of the leaves of the sloe-tree, and of the juice of its -sour, astringent fruit, during the war-time, had any foundation in -truth, the sloe must have been regarded commercially as one of the most -valuable of our native productions, supplying our ladies with their -tea, and our gentlemen with their port-wine. - -Women and men, three-fourths of the number being women, go about -buying tea-leaves of the female servants in the larger, and of the -shopkeepers’ wives in the smaller, houses. But the great purveyors -of these things are the charwomen. In the houses where they char the -tea-leaves are often reserved for them to be thrown on the carpets when -swept, as a means of allaying the dust, or else they form a part of -their perquisites, and are often asked for if not offered. The mistress -of a coffee-shop told me that her charwoman, employed in cleaning every -other morning, had the tea-leaves as a part of her remuneration, or -as a matter of course. What the charwoman did with them her employer -never inquired, although she was always anxious to obtain them, and -she referred me to the poor woman in question. I found her in a very -clean apartment on the second floor of a decent house in Somers-town; a -strong hale woman, with what may be called an industrious look. She was -middle-aged, and a widow, with one daughter, then a nursemaid in the -neighbourhood, and had regular employment. - -“Yes,” she said, “I get the tea-leaves whenever I can, and the most -at two coffee-shops that I work at, but neither of them have so many -as they used to have. I think it’s because cocoa’s come so much to be -asked for in them, and so they sell less tea. I buy tea-leaves only -at one place. It’s a very large family, and I give the servant 4_d._ -and sometimes 3_d._ or 2_d._ a fortnight for them, but I’m nothing in -pocket, for the young girl is a bit of a relation of mine, and it’s -like a trifle of pocket-money for her. She gives a penny every time -she goes to her chapel, and so do I; there’s a box for it fixed near -the door. O yes, her mistress knows I buy them, for her mistress knew -me before she was married, and that’s about 15 or 16 years since. -When I’ve got this basin (producing it) full I sell it, generally -for 4_d._ I don’t know what the leaves in it will weigh, and I have -never sold them by weight, but I believe some have. Perhaps they might -weigh, as damp as some of them are, about a pound. I sell them to a -chandler now. I have sold them to a rag-and-bottle-shop. I’ve had men -and women call upon me and offer to buy them, but not lately, and I -never liked the looks of them, and never sold them any. I don’t know -what they’re wanted for, but I’ve heard that they’re mixed with new -tea. I have nothing to do with that. I get them honestly and sell them -honestly, and that’s all I can say about it. Every little helps, and if -rich people won’t pay poor people properly, then poor people can’t be -expected to be very nice. But I don’t complain, and that’s all I know -about it.” - -The chandler in question knew nothing of the trade in tea-leaves, he -said; he bought none, and he did not know that any of the shopkeepers -did, and he could not form a notion what they could be wanted for, if -it wasn’t to sweep carpets! - -This mode of buying or collecting is, I am told the commonest mode of -any, and it certainly presents some peculiarities. The leaves which are -to form the spurious tea are collected, in great measure, by a class -who are perhaps more likely than any other to have themselves to buy -and drink the stuff which they have helped to produce! By charwomen and -washer-women a “nice cup of tea” in the afternoon during their work is -generally classed among the comforts of existence, yet they are the -very persons who sell the tea-leaves which are to make their “much -prized beverage.” It is curious to reflect also, that as tea-leaves -are used indiscriminately for being re-made into what is considered -new tea, what must be the strength of our tea in a few years. Now all -housewives complain that twice the quantity of tea is required to make -the infusion of the same strength as formerly, and if the collection -of old tea-leaves continues, and the refuse leaves are to be dried and -re-dried perpetually, surely we must get to use pounds where we now do -ounces. - -A man formerly in the tea-leaf business, and very anxious not to be -known--but upon whose information, I am assured from a respectable -source, full reliance may be placed--gave me the following account:-- - -“My father kept a little shop in the general line, and I helped him; so -I was partly brought up to the small way. But I was adrift by myself -when I was quite young--18 or so perhaps. I can read and write well -enough, but I was rather of too gay a turn to be steady. Besides, -father was very poor at times, and could seldom pay me anything, if -I worked ever so. He was very fond of his belly too, and I’ve known -him, when he’s had a bit of luck, or a run of business, go and stuff -hisself with fat roast pork at a cook-shop till he could hardly waddle, -and then come home and lock hisself upstairs in his bed-room and sleep -three parts of the afternoon. (My mother was dead.) But father was a -kind-hearted man for all that, and for all his roast pork, was as thin -as a whipping-post. I kept myself when I left him, just off and on -like, by collecting grease, and all that; it can’t be done so easy now, -I fancy; so I got into the tea-leaf business, but father had nothing to -do with it. An elderly sort of a woman who I met with in my collecting, -and who seemed to take a sort of fancy to me, put me up to the leaves. -She was an out-and-out hand at anything that way herself. Then I bought -tea-leaves with other things, for I suppose for four or five years. How -long ago is it? O, never mind, sir, a few years. I bought them at many -sorts of houses, and carried a box of needles, and odds and ends, as a -sort of introduction. There wasn’t much of that wanted though, for I -called, when I could, soon in the mornings before the family was up, -and some ladies don’t get up till 10 or 11 you know. The masters wasn’t -much; it was the mistresses I cared about, because they are often such -Tartars to the maids and always a-poking in the way. - -“I’ve tried to do business in the great lords’ houses in the squares -and about the parks, but there was mostly somebody about there to -hinder you. Besides, the servants in such places are often on board -wages, and often, when they’re not on board wages, find their own tea -and sugar, and little of the tea-leaves is saved when every one has a -separate pot of tea; so there’s no good to be done there. Large houses -in trade where a number of young men is boarded, drapers or grocers, is -among the best places, as there is often a housekeeper there to deal -with, and no mistress to bother. I always bought by the lot. If you -offered to weigh you would not be able to clear anything, as they’d be -sure to give the leaves a extra wetting. I put handfulls of the leaves -to my nose, and could tell from the smell whether they were hard drawn -or not. When they isn’t hard drawn they answer best, and them I put to -one side. I had a bag like a lawyer’s blue bag, with three divisions in -it, to put my leaves into, and so keep them ’sunder. Yes, I’ve bought -of charwomen, but somehow I think they did’nt much admire selling to -me. I hardly know how I made them out, but one told me of another. They -like the shops better for their leaves, I think; because they can get -a bit of cheese, or snuff, or candles for them there; though I don’t -know much about the shop-work in this line. I’ve often been tried to -be took in by the servants. I’ve found leaves in the lot offered to -me to buy what was all dusty, and had been used for sweeping; and if -I’d sold them with my stock they’d have been stopped out of the next -money. I’ve had tea-leaves given me by servants oft enough, for I used -to sweetheart them a bit, just to get over them; and they’ve laughed, -and asked me whatever I could want with them. As for price, why, I -judged what a lot was worth, and gave accordingly--from 1_d._ to 1_s._ -I never gave more than 1_s._ for any one lot at a time, and that had -been put to one side for me in a large concern, for about a fortnight I -suppose. I can’t say how many people had been tea’d on them. If it was -a housekeeper, or anybody that way, that I bought of, there was never -anything said about what they was wanted for. What _did_ I want them -for? Why, to sell again; and though him as I sold them to never said -so, I knew they was to dry over again. I know nothing about who he was, -or where he lived. The woman I told you of sent him to me. I suppose I -cleared about 10_s._ a week on them, and did a little in other things -beside; perhaps I cleared rather more than 10_s._ on leaves some weeks, -and 5_s._ at others. The party as called upon me once a week to buy my -leaves was a very polite man, and seemed quite the gentleman. There was -no weighing. He examined the lot, and said ‘so much.’ He wouldn’t stand -’bating, or be kept haggling; and his money was down, and no nonsense. -What cost me 5_s._ I very likely got three half-crowns for. It was no -great trade, if you consider the trouble. I’ve sometimes carried the -leaves that he’d packed in papers, and put into a carpet-bag, where -there was others, to a coffee-shop; they always had ‘till called for’ -marked on a card then. I asked no questions, but just left them. -There was two, and sometimes four boys, as used to bring me leaves on -Saturday nights. I think they was charwomen’s sons, but I don’t know -for a positive, and I don’t know how they made me out. I think I was -one of the tip-tops of the trade at one time; some weeks I’ve laid out -a sov. (sovereign) in leaves. I haven’t a notion how many’s in the -line, or what’s doing now; but much the same I’ve no doubt. I’m glad -_I’ve_ done with it.” - -I am told by those who are as well-informed on the subject as is -perhaps possible, when a surreptitious and dishonest traffic is the -subject of inquiry, that although less spurious tea is sold, there are -more makers of it. Two of the principal manufacturers have of late, -however, been prevented carrying on the business by the intervention -of the excise officers. The spurious tea-men are also the buyers of -“wrecked tea,” that is, of tea which has been part of the salvage -of a wrecked vessel, and is damaged or spoiled entirely by the salt -water. This is re-dried and dyed, so as to appear fresh and new. It is -dyed with Prussian blue, which gives it what an extensive tea-dealer -described to me as an “intensely fine green.” It is then mixed with -the commonest Gunpowder teas and with the strongest Young Hysons, and -has always a kind of “metallic” smell, somewhat like that of a copper -vessel after friction in its cleaning. These teas are usually sold at -4_s._ the pound. - -Sloe-leaves for spurious tea, as I have before stated, were in -extensive use, but this manufacture ceased to exist about 20 years ago. -Now the spurious material consists only of the old tea-leaves, at least -so far as experienced tradesmen know. The adulteration is, however, -I am assured, more skilfully conducted than it used to be, and its -staple is of far easier procuration. The law, though it makes the use -of old tea-leaves, as components of what is called tea, punishable, -is nevertheless silent as to their sale or purchase; they can be -collected, therefore, with a comparative impunity. - -The tea-leaves are dried, dyed (or re-dyed), and shrivelled on plates -of hot metal, carefully tended. The dyes used are those I have -mentioned. These teas, when mixed, are hawked in the country, but not -in town, and are sold to the hawkers at 7 lbs. for 21_s._ The quarters -of pounds are retailed at 1_s._ A tea-dealer told me that he could -recognise this adulterated commodity, but it was only a person skilled -in teas who could do so, by its _coarse_ look. For green tea--the -mixture to which the prepared leaves are mostly devoted--the old tea is -blended with the commonest Gunpowders and Hysons. No dye, I am told, is -required when black tea is thus re-made; but I know that plumbago is -often used to simulate the bloom. The inferior shopkeepers sell this -adulterated tea, especially in neighbourhoods where the poor Irish -congregate, or any of the lowest class of the poor English. - -To obtain the statistics of a trade which exists in spite not only -of the vigilance of the excise and police officers but of public -reprobation, and which is essentially a secret trade, is not possible. -I heard some, who were likely to be well-informed, conjecture--for it -cannot honestly be called more than a conjecture--that between 500 and -1000 lbs., perhaps 700 lbs., of old tea-leaves were made up weekly -in London; but of this he thought that about an eighth was spoilt by -burning in the process of drying. - -Another gentleman, however, thought that, at the very least, double the -above quantity of old tea-leaves was weekly manufactured into new tea. -According to his estimate, and he was no mean authority, no less than -1500 lbs. weekly, or 78,000 lbs. per annum of this trash are yearly -poured into the London market. The average consumption of tea is about -1-1/4 lb. per annum for each man, woman, or child in the kingdom; -coffee being the _principal_ unfermented beverage of the poor. Those, -however, of the poorest who drink tea consume about two ounces per week -(half an ounce serving them twice), or one pound in the course of every -two months. This makes the annual consumption of the adult tea-drinking -poor amount to 6 lbs., and it is upon this class the spurious tea is -chiefly foisted. - - - - -OF THE STREET-FINDERS OR COLLECTORS. - - -These men, for by far the great majority are men, may be divided, -according to the nature of their occupations, into three classes:-- - -1. The bone-grubbers and rag-gatherers, who are, indeed, the same -individuals, the pure-finders, and the cigar-end and old wood -collectors. - -2. The dredgermen, the mud-larks, and the sewer-hunters. - -3. The dustmen and nightmen, the sweeps and the scavengers. - -The first class go abroad daily to _find_ in the streets, and carry -away with them such things as bones, rags, “pure” (or dogs’-dung), -which no one appropriates. These they sell, and on that sale support -a wretched life. The second class of people are also as strictly -_finders_; but their industry, or rather their labour, is confined to -the river, or to that subterranean city of sewerage unto which the -Thames supplies the great outlets. These persons may not be immediately -connected with the _streets_ of London, but their pursuits are carried -on in the open air (if the sewer-air may be so included), and are all, -at any rate, out-of-door avocations. The third class is distinct from -either of these, as the labourers comprised in it are not finders, but -_collectors_ or _removers_ of the dirt and filth of our streets and -houses, and of the soot of our chimneys. - -The two first classes also differ from the third in the fact that the -sweeps, dustmen, scavengers, &c., are paid (and often large sums) for -the removal of the refuse they collect; whereas the bone-grubbers, and -mud-larks, and pure-finders, and dredgermen, and sewer-hunters, get for -their pains only the value of the articles they gather. - -Herein, too, lies a broad distinction between the street-finder, or -collector, and the street-buyer: though both deal principally with -refuse, the buyer _pays_ for what he is permitted to take away; whereas -the finder or collector is either paid (like the sweep), or else he -neither pays nor is paid (like the bone-grubber), for the refuse that -he removes. - -The third class of street-collectors also presents another and a -markedly distinctive characteristic. They act in the capacity of -servants, and do not depend upon chance for the result of their day’s -labour, but are put to stated tasks, being employed and paid a fixed -sum for their work. To this description, however, some of the sweeps -present an exception; as when the sweep works on his own account, or, -as it is worded, “is his own master.” - -The public health requires the periodical cleaning of the streets, and -the removal of the refuse matter from our dwellings; and the man who -contracts to carry on this work is decidedly a street-collector; for -on what he collects or removes depends the amount of his remuneration. -Thus a wealthy contractor for the public scavengery, is as entirely one -of the street-folk as the unskilled and ignorant labourer he employs. -The master lives, and, in many instances, has become rich, on the -results of his street employment; for, of course, the actual workmen -are but as the agents or sources of his profit. Even the collection of -“pure” (dogs’-dung) in the streets, if conducted by the servants of any -tanner or leather dresser, either for the purposes of his own trade or -for sale to others, might be the occupation of a wealthy man, deriving -a small profit from the labour of each particular collector. The same -may also be said of bone-grubbing, or any similar occupation, however -insignificant, and now abandoned to the outcast. - -Were the collection of mud and dust carried on by a number of distinct -individuals--that is to say, were each individual dustman and scavenger -to collect on his own account, there is no doubt that no _one man_ -could amass a fortune by such means--while if the collection of bones -and rags and even dogs’-dung were carried on “in the large way,” that -is to say, by a number of individual collectors working for one “head -man,” even the picking up of the most abject refuse of the metropolis -might become the source of great riches. - -The bone-grubber and the mud-lark (the searcher for refuse on the -banks of the river) differ little in their pursuits or in their -characteristics, excepting that the mud-larks are generally boys, which -is more an accidental than a definite distinction. The grubbers are -with a few exceptions stupid, unconscious of their degradation, and -with little anxiety to be relieved from it. They are usually taciturn, -but this taciturn habit is common to men whose callings, if they -cannot be called solitary, are pursued with little communication with -others. I was informed by a man who once kept a little beer-shop near -Friar-street, Southwark Bridge-road (where then and still, he thought, -was a bone-grinding establishment), that the bone-grubbers who carried -their sacks of bones thither sometimes had a pint of beer at his house -when they had received their money. They usually sat, he told me, -silently looking at the corners of the floor--for they rarely lifted -their eyes up--as if they were expecting to see some bones or refuse -there available for their bags. Of this inertion, perhaps fatigue and -despair may be a part. I asked some questions of a man of this class -whom I saw pick up in a road in the suburbs something that appeared to -have been a coarse canvas apron, although it was wet after a night’s -rain and half covered with mud. I inquired of him what he thought -about when he trudged along looking on the ground on every side. His -answer was, “Of nothing, sir.” I believe that no better description -could be given of that vacuity of mind or mental inactivity which -seems to form a part of the most degraded callings. The minds of such -men, even without an approach to idiotcy, appear to be a blank. One -characteristic of these poor fellows, bone-grubbers and mud-larks, is -that they are very poor, although I am told some of them, the older -men, have among the poor the reputation of being misers. It is not -unusual for the youths belonging to these callings to live with their -parents and give them the amount of their earnings. - -The sewer-hunters are again distinct, and a far more intelligent and -adventurous class; but they work in gangs. They must be familiar with -the course of the tides, or they might be drowned at high water. They -must have quick eyes too, not merely to descry the objects of their -search, but to mark the points and bearings of the subterraneous -roads they traverse; in a word, “to know their way underground.” -There is, moreover, some spirit of daring in venturing into a dark, -solitary sewer, the chart being only in the memory, and in braving -the possibility of noxious vapours, and the by no means insignificant -dangers of the rats infesting these places. - -The dredgermen, the finders of the water, are again distinct, as being -watermen, and working in boats. In some foreign parts, in Naples, for -instance, men carrying on similar pursuits are also divers for anything -lost in the bay or its confluent waters. One of these men, known some -years ago as “the Fish,” could remain (at least, so say those whom -there is no reason to doubt) three hours under the water without -rising to the surface to take breath. He was, it is said, web-footed, -naturally, and partially web-fingered. The King of the Two Sicilies -once threw a silver cup into the sea for “the Fish” to bring up and -retain as a reward, but the poor diver was never seen again. It was -believed that he got entangled among the weeds on the rocks, and so -perished. The dredgermen are necessarily well acquainted with the sets -of the tide and the course of the currents in the Thames. Every one of -these men works on his own account, being as it were a “small master,” -which, indeed, is one of the great attractions of open-air pursuits. -The dredgermen also depend for their maintenance upon the sale of what -they find, or the rewards they receive. - -It is otherwise, however, as was before observed, with the third class -of the street-finders, or rather collectors. In all the capacities of -dustmen, nightmen, scavengers, and sweeps, the employers of the men are -_paid_ to do the work, the proceeds of the street-collection forming -only a portion of the employer’s remuneration. The sweep has the soot -in addition to his 6_d._ or 1_s._; the master scavenger has a payment -from the parish funds to sweep the streets, though the clearance of -the cesspools, &c., in private houses, may be an individual bargain. -The whole refuse of the streets belongs to the contractor to make the -best of, but it must be cleared away, and so must the contents of a -dust-bin; for if a mass of dirt become offensive, the householder may -be indicted for a nuisance, and municipal by-laws require its removal. -It is thus made a matter of compulsion that the dust be removed from -a private house; but it is otherwise with the soot. Why a man should -be permitted to let soot accumulate in his chimney--perhaps exposing -himself, his family, his lodgers, and his neighbours to the dangers of -fire, it may not be easy to account for, especially when we bear in -mind that the same man may not accumulate cabbage-leaves and fish-tails -in his yard. - -The dustmen are of the plodding class of labourers, mere labourers, who -require only bodily power, and possess little or no mental development. -Many of the agricultural labourers are of this order, and the dustman -often seems to be the stolid ploughman, modified by a residence in a -city, and engaged in a peculiar calling. They are generally uninformed, -and no few of them are dustmen because their fathers were. The same -may be said of nightmen and scavengers. At one time it was a popular, -or rather a vulgar notion that many dustmen had become possessed of -large sums, from the plate, coins, and valuables they found in clearing -the dust-bins--a manifest absurdity; but I was told by a marine-store -dealer that he had known a young woman, a dustman’s daughter, sell -silver spoons to a neighbouring marine-store man, who was “not very -particular.” - -The circumstances and character of the chimney-sweeps have, since -Parliament “put down” the climbing boys, undergone considerable change. -The sufferings of many of the climbing boys were very great. They -were often ill-lodged, ill-fed, barely-clad, forced to ascend hot and -narrow flues, and subject to diseases--such as the chimney-sweep’s -cancer--peculiar to their calling. The child hated his trade, and was -easily tempted to be a thief, for prison was an asylum; or he grew -up a morose tyrannical fellow as journeyman or master. Some of the -young sweeps became very bold thieves and house-breakers, and the most -remarkable, as far as personal daring is concerned: the boldest feat of -escape from Newgate was performed by a youth who had been brought up -a chimney-sweep. He climbed up the two bare rugged walls of a corner -of the interior of the prison, in the open air, to the height of some -60 feet. He had only the use of his hands, knees, and feet, and a -single slip, from fear or pain, would have been death; he surmounted a -parapet after this climbing, and gained the roof, but was recaptured -before he could get clear away. He was, moreover, a sickly, and reputed -a cowardly, young man, and ended his career in this country by being -transported. - -A master sweep, now in middle age, and a man “well to do,” told me that -when a mere child he had been apprenticed out of the workhouse to a -sweep, such being at that time a common occurrence. He had undergone, -he said, great hardships while learning his business, and was long, -from the indifferent character of his class, ashamed of being a sweep, -both as journeyman and master; but the sweeps were so much improved in -character now, that he no longer felt himself disgraced in his calling. - -The sweeps are more intelligent than the mere ordinary labourers I have -written of under this head, but they are, of course, far from being an -educated body. - -The further and more minute characteristics of the curious class of -street-finders or collectors will be found in the particular details -and statements. - -Among the finders there is perhaps the greatest poverty existing, -they being the very lowest class of all the street-people. Many of -the very old live on the hard dirty crusts they pick up out of the -roads in the course of their rounds, washing them and steeping them -in water before they eat them. Probably that vacuity of mind which is -a distinguishing feature of the class is the mere atony or emaciation -of the mental faculties proceeding from--though often producing in the -want of energy that it necessarily begets--the extreme wretchedness -of the class. But even their liberty and a crust--as it frequently -literally is--appears preferable to these people to the restrictions of -the workhouse. Those who are unable to comprehend the inertia of both -body and mind begotten by the despair of long-continued misfortune are -referred to page 357 of the first volume of this work, where it will -be found that a tinman, in speaking of the misery connected with the -early part of his street-career, describes the effect of extreme want -as producing not only an absence of all hope, but even of a desire to -better the condition. Those, however, who have studied the mysterious -connection between body and mind, and observed what different creatures -they themselves are before and after dinner, can well understand that a -long-continued deficiency of food must have the same weakening effect -on the muscles of the mind and energy of the thoughts and will, as it -has on the limbs themselves. - -Occasionally it will be found that the utter abjectness of the -bone-grubbers has arisen from the want of energy begotten by -intemperate habits. The workman has nothing but this same energy -to live upon, and the permanent effect of stimulating liquors is -to produce an amount of depression corresponding to the excitement -momentarily caused by them in the frame. The operative, therefore, -who spends his earnings on “drink,” not only squanders them on a -brutalising luxury, but deprives himself of the power, and consequently -of the disposition, to work for more, and hence that idleness, -carelessness, and neglect which are the distinctive qualities of the -drunkard, and sooner or later compass his ruin. - -For the poor wretched children who are reared to this the lowest trade -of all, surely even the most insensible and unimaginative must feel -the acutest pity. There is, however, this consolation: I have heard -of none, with the exception of the more prosperous sewer-hunters and -dredgermen, who have remained all their lives at street-finding. Still -there remains much to be done by all those who are impressed with a -sense of the trust that has been confided to them, in the possession of -those endowments which render their lot in this world so much more easy -than that of the less lucky street-finders. - - -BONE-GRUBBERS AND RAG-GATHERERS. - -The habits of the bone-grubbers and rag-gatherers, the “pure,” or -dogs’-dung collectors, and the cigar-end finders, are necessarily -similar. All lead a wandering, unsettled sort of life, being compelled -to be continually on foot, and to travel many miles every day in search -of the articles in which they deal. They seldom have any fixed place of -abode, and are mostly to be found at night in one or other of the low -lodging-houses throughout London. The majority are, moreover, persons -who have been brought up to other employments, but who from some -failing or mishap have been reduced to such a state of distress that -they were obliged to take to their present occupation, and have never -after been able to get away from it. - -Of the whole class it is considered that there are from 800 to 1000 -resident in London, one-half of whom, at the least, sleep in the -cheap lodging-houses. The Government returns estimate the number of -mendicants’ lodging-houses in London to be upwards of 200. Allowing -two bone-grubbers and pure-finders to frequent each of these -lodging-houses, there will be upwards of 400 availing themselves of -such nightly shelters. As many more, I am told, live in garrets and -ill-furnished rooms in the lowest neighbourhoods. There is no instance -on record of any of the class renting even the smallest house for -himself. - -Moreover there are in London during the winter a number of persons -called “trampers,” who employ themselves at that season in -street-finding. These people are in the summer country labourers -of some sort, but as soon as the harvest and potato-getting and -hop-picking are over, and they can find nothing else to do in the -country, they come back to London to avail themselves of the shelter -of the night asylums or refuges for the destitute (usually called -“straw-yards” by the poor), for if they remained in the provinces at -that period of the year they would be forced to have recourse to the -unions, and as they can only stay one night in each place they would -be obliged to travel from ten to fifteen miles per day, to which in -the winter they have a strong objection. They come up to London in the -winter, not to look for any regular work or employment, but because -they know that they can have a nightly shelter, and bread night and -morning for nothing, during that season, and can during the day collect -bones, rags, &c. As soon as the “straw-yards” close, which is generally -about the beginning of April, the “trampers” again start off to the -country in small bands of two or three, and without any fixed residence -keep wandering about all the summer, sometimes begging their way -through the villages and sleeping in the casual wards of the unions, -and sometimes, when hard driven, working at hay-making or any other -light labour. - -[Illustration: THE BONE-GRUBBER. - -[_From a Daguerreotype by_ BEARD.]] - -Those among the bone-grubbers who do not belong to the regular -“trampers” have been either navvies, or men who have not been able -to obtain employment at their own business, and have been driven to -it by necessity as a means of obtaining a little bread for the time -being, and without any intention of pursuing the calling regularly; -but, as I have said, when once in the business they cannot leave it, -for at least they make certain of getting a few halfpence by it, and -their present necessity does not allow them time to look after other -employment. There are many of the street-finders who are old men and -women, and many very young children who have no other means of living. -Since the famine in Ireland vast numbers of that unfortunate people, -particularly boys and girls, have been engaged in gathering bones and -rags in the streets. - -The bone-picker and rag-gatherer may be known at once by the greasy -bag which he carries on his back. Usually he has a stick in his hand, -and this is armed with a spike or hook, for the purpose of more easily -turning over the heaps of ashes or dirt that are thrown out of the -houses, and discovering whether they contain anything that is saleable -at the rag-and-bottle or marine-store shop. The bone-grubber generally -seeks out the narrow back streets, where dust and refuse are cast, or -where any dust-bins are accessible. The articles for which he chiefly -searches are rags and bones--rags he prefers--but waste metal, such as -bits of lead, pewter, copper, brass, or old iron, he prizes above all. -Whatever he meets with that he knows to be in any way saleable he puts -into the bag at his back. He often finds large lumps of bread which -have been thrown out as waste by the servants, and occasionally the -housekeepers will give him some bones on which there is a little meat -remaining; these constitute the morning meal of most of the class. One -of my informants had a large rump of beef bone given to him a few days -previous to my seeing him, on which “there was not less than a pound of -meat.” - -The bone-pickers and rag-gatherers are all early risers. They have -all their separate beats or districts, and it is most important to -them that they should reach their district before any one else of -the same class can go over the ground. Some of the beats lie as far -as Peckham, Clapham, Hammersmith, Hampstead, Bow, Stratford, and -indeed all parts within about five miles of London. In summer time -they rise at two in the morning, and sometimes earlier. It is not -quite light at this hour--but bones and rags can be discovered before -daybreak. The “grubbers” scour all quarters of London, but abound more -particularly in the suburbs. In the neighbourhood of Petticoat-lane -and Ragfair, however, they are the most numerous on account of the -greater quantity of rags which the Jews have to throw out. It usually -takes the bone-picker from seven to nine hours to go over his rounds, -during which time he travels from 20 to 30 miles with a quarter to a -half hundredweight on his back. In the summer he usually reaches home -about eleven of the day, and in the winter about one or two. On his -return home he proceeds to sort the contents of his bag. He separates -the rags from the bones, and these again from the old metal (if he -be lucky enough to have found any). He divides the rags into various -lots, according as they are white or coloured; and if he have picked up -any pieces of canvas or sacking, he makes these also into a separate -parcel. When he has finished the sorting he takes his several lots -to the rag-shop or the marine-store dealer, and realizes upon them -whatever they may be worth. For the white rags he gets from 2_d._ to -3_d._ per pound, according as they are clean or soiled. The white rags -are very difficult to be found; they are mostly very dirty, and are -therefore sold with the coloured ones at the rate of about 5 lbs. for -2_d._ The bones are usually sold with the coloured rags at one and -the same price. For fragments of canvas or sacking the grubber gets -about three-farthings a pound; and old brass, copper, and pewter about -4_d._ (the marine-store keepers say 5_d._), and old iron one farthing -per pound, or six pounds for 1_d._ The bone-grubber thinks he has -done an excellent day’s work if he can earn 8_d._; and some of them, -especially the very old and the very young, do not earn more than -from 2_d._ to 3_d._ a day. To make 10_d._ a day, at the present price -of rags and bones, a man must be remarkably active and strong,--“ay! -and lucky, too,” adds my informant. The average amount of earnings, I -am told, varies from about 6_d._ to 8_d._ per day, or from 3_s._ to -4_s._ a week; and the highest amount that a man, the most brisk and -persevering at the business, can by any possibility earn in one week is -about 5_s._, but this can only be accomplished by great good fortune -and industry--the usual weekly gains are about half that sum. In bad -weather the bone-grubber cannot do so well, because the rags are wet, -and then they cannot sell them. The majority pick up bones only in wet -weather; those who _do_ gather rags during or after rain are obliged to -wash and dry them before they can sell them. The state of the shoes of -the rag and bone-picker is a very important matter to him; for if he -be well shod he can get quickly over the ground; but he is frequently -lamed, and unable to make any progress from the blisters and gashes on -his feet, occasioned by the want of proper shoes. - -Sometimes the bone-grubbers will pick up a stray sixpence or a shilling -that has been dropped in the street. “The handkerchief I have round -my neck,” said one whom I saw, “I picked up with 1_s._ in the corner. -The greatest prize I ever found was the brass cap of the nave of a -coach-wheel; and I _did_ once find a quarter of a pound of tobacco in -Sun-street, Bishopsgate. The best bit of luck of all that I ever had -was finding a cheque for 12_l._ 15_s._ lying in the gateway of the -mourning-coach yard in Titchborne-street, Haymarket. I was going to -light my pipe with it, indeed I picked it up for that purpose, and -then saw it was a cheque. It was on the London and County Bank, 21, -Lombard-street. I took it there, and got 10_s._ for finding it. I went -there in my rags, as I am now, and the cashier stared a bit at me. The -cheque was drawn by a Mr. Knibb, and payable to a Mr. Cox. I _did_ -think I should have got the odd 15_s._ though.” - -It has been stated that the average amount of the earnings of the -bone-pickers is 6_d._ per day, or 3_s._ per week, being 7_l._ 16_s._ -per annum for each person. It has also been shown that the number of -persons engaged in the business may be estimated at about 800; hence -the earnings of the entire number will amount to the sum of 20_l._ per -day, or 120_l._ per week, which gives 6240_l._ as the annual earnings -of the bone-pickers and rag-gatherers of London. It may also be -computed that each of the grubbers gathers on an average 20 lbs. weight -of bone and rags; and reckoning the bones to constitute three-fourths -of the entire weight, we thus find that the gross quantity of these -articles gathered by the street-finders in the course of the year, -amounts to 3,744,000 lbs. of bones, and 1,240,000 lbs. of rags. - -Between the London and St. Katherine’s Docks and Rosemary Lane, there -is a large district inter-laced with narrow lanes, courts, and alleys -ramifying into each other in the most intricate and disorderly manner, -insomuch that it would be no easy matter for a stranger to work his -way through the interminable confusion without the aid of a guide, -resident in and well conversant with the locality. The houses are of -the poorest description, and seem as if they tumbled into their places -at random. Foul channels, huge dust-heaps, and a variety of other -unsightly objects, occupy every open space, and dabbling among these -are crowds of ragged dirty children who grub and wallow, as if in their -native element. None reside in these places but the poorest and most -wretched of the population, and, as might almost be expected, this, -the cheapest and filthiest locality of London, is the head-quarters of -the bone-grubbers and other street-finders. I have ascertained on the -best authority, that from the centre of this place, within a circle -of a mile in diameter, there dwell not less than 200 persons of this -class. In this quarter I found a bone-grubber who gave me the following -account of himself:-- - -“I was born in Liverpool, and when about 14 years of age, my father -died. He used to work about the Docks, and I used to run on errands for -any person who wanted me. I managed to live by this after my father’s -death for three or four years. I had a brother older than myself, who -went to France to work on the railroads, and when I was about 18 he -sent for me, and got me to work with himself on the Paris and Rouen -Railway, under McKenzie and Brassy, who had the contract. I worked on -the railroads in France for four years, till the disturbance broke -out, and then we all got notice to leave the country. I lodged at that -time with a countryman, and had 12_l._, which I had saved out of my -earnings. This sum I gave to my countryman to keep for me till we got -to London, as I did not like to have it about me, for fear I’d lose it. -The French people paid our fare from Rouen to Havre by the railway, -and there put us on board a steamer to Southampton. There was about 50 -of us altogether. When we got to Southampton, we all went before the -mayor; we told him about how we had been driven out of France, and he -gave us a shilling a piece; he sent some one with us, too, to get us -a lodging, and told us to come again the next day. In the morning the -mayor gave every one who was able to walk half-a-crown, and for those -who were not able he paid their fare to London on the railroad. I had -a sore leg at the time, and I came up by the train, and when I gave -up my ticket at the station, the gentleman gave me a shilling more. I -couldn’t find the man I had given my money to, because he had walked -up; and I went before the Lord Mayor to ask his advice; he gave me -2_s._ 6_d._ I looked for work everywhere, but could get nothing to do; -and when the 2_s._ 6_d._ was all spent, I heard that the man who had -my money was on the London and York Railway in the country; however, I -couldn’t get that far for want of money then; so I went again before -the Lord Mayor, and he gave me two more, but told me not to trouble him -any further. I told the Lord Mayor about the money, and then he sent an -officer with me, who put me into a carriage on the railway. When I got -down to where the man was at work, he wouldn’t give me a farthing; I -had given him the money without any witness bring present, and he said -I could do nothing, because it was done in another country. I staid -down there more than a week trying to get work on the railroad, but -could not. I had no money and was nearly starved, when two or three -took pity on me, and made up four or five shillings for me, to take -me back again to London. I tried all I could to get something to do, -till the money was nearly gone; and then I took to selling lucifers, -and the fly-papers that they use in the shops, and little things like -that; but I could do no good at this work, there was too many at it -before me, and they knew more about it than I did. At last, I got so -bad off I didn’t know what to do; but seeing a great many about here -gathering bones and rags, I thought I’d do so too--a poor fellow must -do something. I was advised to do so, and I have been at it ever since. -I forgot to tell you that my brother died in France. We had good wages -there, four francs a day, or 3_s._ 4_d._ English; I don’t make more -than 3_d._ or 4_d._ and sometimes 6_d._ a day at bone-picking. I don’t -go out before daylight to gather anything, because the police takes -my bag and throws all I’ve gathered about the street to see if I have -anything stolen in it. I never stole anything in all my life, indeed -I’d do anything before I’d steal. Many a night I’ve slept under an arch -of the railway when I hadn’t a penny to pay for my bed; but whenever -the police find me that way, they make me and the rest get up, and -drive us on, and tell us to keep moving. I don’t go out on wet days, -there’s no use in it, as the things won’t be bought. I can’t wash and -dry them, because I’m in a lodging-house. There’s a great deal more -than a 100 bone-pickers about here, men, women, and children. The Jews -in this lane and up in Petticoat-lane give a good deal of victuals -away on the Saturday. They sometimes call one of us in from the street -to light the fire for them, or take off the kettle, as they must not -do anything themselves on the Sabbath; and then they put some food on -the footpath, and throw rags and bones into the street for us, because -they must not hand anything to us. There are some about here who get a -couple of shillings’ worth of goods, and go on board the ships in the -Docks, and exchange them for bones and bits of old canvas among the -sailors; I’d buy and do so too if I only had the money, but can’t get -it. The summer is the worst time for us, the winter is much better, -for there is more meat used in winter, and then there are more bones.” -(Others say differently.) “I intend to go to the country this season, -and try to get something to do at the hay-making and harvest. I make -about 2_s._ 6_d._ a week, and the way I manage is this: sometimes I -get a piece of bread about 12 o’clock, and I make my breakfast of -that and cold water; very seldom I have any dinner,--unless I earn -6_d._ I can’t get any,--and then I have a basin of nice soup, or a -penn’orth of plum-pudding and a couple of baked ’tatoes. At night I -get 1/4_d._ worth of coffee, 1/2_d._ worth of sugar, and 1-1/4_d._ -worth of bread, and then I have 2_d._ a night left for my lodging; I -always try to manage that, for I’d do anything sooner than stop out all -night. I’m always happy the day when I make 4_d._, for then I know I -won’t have to sleep in the street. The winter before last, there was a -straw-yard down in Black Jack’s-alley, where we used to go after six -o’clock in the evening, and get 1/2 lb. of bread, and another 1/2 lb. -in the morning, and then we’d gather what we could in the daytime and -buy victuals with what we got for it. We were well off then, but the -straw-yard wasn’t open at all last winter. There used to be 300 of -us in there of a night, a great many of the dock-labourers and their -families were there, for no work was to be got in the docks; so they -weren’t able to pay rent, and were obliged to go in. I’ve lost my -health since I took to bone-picking, through the wet and cold in the -winter, for I’ve scarcely any clothes, and the wet gets to my feet -through the old shoes; this caused me last winter to be nine weeks in -the hospital of the Whitechapel workhouse.” - -The narrator of this tale seemed so dejected and broken in spirit, -that it was with difficulty his story was elicited from him. He was -evidently labouring under incipient consumption. I have every reason -to believe that he made a truthful statement,--indeed, he did not -appear to me to have sufficient intellect to invent a falsehood. It is -a curious fact, indeed, with reference to the London street-finders -generally, that they seem to possess less rational power than any -other class. They appear utterly incapable of trading even in the most -trifling commodities, probably from the fact that buying articles -for the purpose of selling them at a profit, requires an exercise -of the mind to which they feel themselves incapable. Begging, too, -requires some ingenuity or tact, in order to move the sympathies of -the well-to-do, and the street-finders being incompetent for this, -they work on day after day as long as they are able to crawl about in -pursuit of their unprofitable calling. This cannot be fairly said of -the younger members of this class, who are sent into the streets by -their parents, and many of whom are afterwards able to find some more -reputable and more lucrative employment. As a body of people, however, -young and old, they mostly exhibit the same stupid, half-witted -appearance. - -To show how bone-grubbers occasionally manage to obtain shelter -during the night, the following incident may not be out of place. A -few mornings past I accidentally encountered one of this class in a -narrow back lane; his ragged coat--the colour of the rubbish among -which he toiled--was greased over, probably with the fat of the bones -he gathered, and being mixed with the dust it seemed as if the man -were covered with bird-lime. His shoes--torn and tied on his feet with -pieces of cord--had doubtlessly been picked out of some dust-bin, while -his greasy bag and stick unmistakably announced his calling. Desirous -of obtaining all the information possible on this subject, I asked him -a few questions, took his address, which he gave without hesitation, -and bade him call on me in the evening. At the time appointed, however, -he did not appear; on the following day therefore I made way to the -address he had given, and on reaching the spot I was astonished to find -the house in which he had said he lived was uninhabited. A padlock was -on the door, the boards of which were parting with age. There was not -a whole pane of glass in any of the windows, and the frames of many of -them were shattered or demolished. Some persons in the neighbourhood, -noticing me eyeing the place, asked whom I wanted. On my telling the -man’s name, which it appeared he had not dreamt of disguising, I -was informed that he had left the day before, saying he had met the -landlord in the morning (for such it turned out he had fancied me to -be), and that the gentleman had wanted him to come to his house, but -he was afraid to go lest he should be sent to prison for breaking into -the place. I found, on inspection, that the premises, though locked -up, could be entered by the rear, one of the window-frames having been -removed, so that admission could be obtained through the aperture. -Availing myself of the same mode of ingress, I proceeded to examine -the premises. Nothing could well be more dismal or dreary than the -interior. The floors were rotting with damp and mildew, especially -near the windows, where the wet found easy entrance. The walls were -even slimy and discoloured, and everything bore the appearance of -desolation. In one corner was strewn a bundle of dirty straw, which -doubtlessly had served the bone-grubber for a bed, while scattered -about the floor were pieces of bones, and small fragments of dirty -rags, sufficient to indicate the calling of the late inmate. He had -had but little difficulty in removing his property, seeing that it -consisted solely of his bag and his stick. - -The following paragraph concerning the chiffoniers or rag-gatherers of -Paris appeared in the London journals a few weeks since:-- - -“The fraternal association of rag-gatherers (chiffoniers) gave a -grand banquet on Saturday last (21st of June). It took place at -a public-house called the _Pot Tricolore_, near the _Barrière de -Fontainbleau_, which is frequented by the rag-gathering fraternity. In -this house there are three rooms, each of which is specially devoted -to the use of different classes of rag-gatherers: one, the least -dirty, is called the ‘Chamber of Peers,’ and is occupied by the first -class--that is, those who possess a basket in a good state, and a crook -ornamented with copper; the second, called the ‘Chamber of Deputies,’ -belonging to the second class, is much less comfortable, and those -who attend it have baskets and crooks not of first-rate quality; the -third room is in a dilapidated condition, and is frequented by the -lowest class of rag-gatherers who have no basket or crook, and who -place what they find in the streets in a piece of sackcloth. They call -themselves the ‘_Réunion des Vrais Prolétaires_.’ The name of each room -is written in chalk above the door; and generally such strict etiquette -is observed among the rag-gatherers that no one goes into the apartment -not occupied by his own class. At Saturday’s banquet, however, all -distinctions of rank were laid aside, and delegates of each class -united fraternally. The president was the oldest rag-gatherer in Paris; -his age is 88, and he is called ‘the Emperor.’ The banquet consisted -of a sort of _olla podrida_, which the master of the establishment -pompously called _gibelotte_, though of what animal it was composed it -was impossible to say. It was served up in huge earthen dishes, and -before it was allowed to be touched payment was demanded and obtained; -the other articles were also paid for as soon as they were brought in; -and a deposit was exacted as a security for the plates, knives, and -forks. The wine, or what did duty as such, was contained in an earthen -pot called the _Petit Père Noir_, and was filled from a gigantic vessel -named _Le Moricaud_. The dinner was concluded by each guest taking a -small glass of brandy. Business was then proceeded to. It consisted -in the reading and adoption of the statutes of the association, -followed by the drinking of numerous toasts to the president, to the -prosperity of rag-gathering, to the union of rag-gatherers, &c. A -collection amounting to 6_f._ 75_c._ was raised for sick members of the -fraternity. The guests then dispersed; but several of them remained at -the counter until they had consumed in brandy the amount deposited as -security for the crockery, knives, and forks.” - - -OF THE “PURE”-FINDERS. - -Dogs’-dung is called “Pure,” from its cleansing and purifying -properties. - -The name of “Pure-finders,” however, has been applied to the men -engaged in collecting dogs’-dung from the public streets only, within -the last 20 or 30 years. Previous to this period there appears to -have been no men engaged in the business, old women alone gathered -the substance, and they were known by the name of “bunters,” which -signifies properly gatherers of rags; and thus plainly intimates that -the rag-gatherers originally added the collecting of “Pure” to their -original and proper vocation. Hence it appears that the bone-grubbers, -rag-gatherers, and pure-finders, constituted formerly but one -class of people, and even now they have, as I have stated, kindred -characteristics. - -The pure-finders meet with a ready market for all the dogs’-dung they -are able to collect, at the numerous tanyards in Bermondsey, where -they sell it by the stable-bucket full, and get from 8_d._ to 10_d._ -per bucket, and sometimes 1_s._ and 1_s._ 2_d._ for it, according to -its quality. The “dry limy-looking sort” fetches the highest price -at some yards, as it is found to possess more of the alkaline, or -purifying properties; but others are found to prefer the dark moist -quality. Strange as it may appear, the preference for a particular kind -has suggested to the finders of Pure the idea of adulterating it to a -very considerable extent; this is effected by means of mortar broken -away from old walls, and mixed up with the whole mass, which it closely -resembles; in some cases, however, the mortar is rolled into small -balls similar to those found. Hence it would appear, that there is no -business or trade, however insignificant or contemptible, without its -own peculiar and appropriate tricks. - -The pure-finders are in their habits and mode of proceeding nearly -similar to the bone-grubbers. Many of the pure-finders are, however, -better in circumstances, the men especially, as they earn more money. -They are also, to a certain extent, a better educated class. Some of -the regular collectors of this substance have been mechanics, and -others small tradesmen, who have been reduced. Those pure-finders who -have “a good connection,” and have been granted permission to cleanse -some kennels, obtain a very fair living at the business, earning from -10_s._ to 15_s._ a week. These, however, are very few; the majority -have to seek the article in the streets, and by such means they can -obtain only from 6_s._ to 10_s._ a week. The average weekly earnings of -this class are thought to be about 7_s._ 6_d._ - -From all the inquiries I have made on this subject, I have found that -there cannot be less than from 200 to 300 persons constantly engaged -solely in this business. There are about 30 tanyards large and small -in Bermondsey, and these all have their regular Pure collectors from -whom they obtain the article. Leomont and Roberts’s, Bavingtons’, -Beech’s, Murrell’s, Cheeseman’s, Powell’s, Jones’s, Jourdans’, Kent’s, -Moorcroft’s, and Davis’s, are among the largest establishments, and -some idea of the amount of business done in some of these yards may -be formed from the fact, that the proprietors severally employ from -300 to 500 tanners. At Leomont and Roberts’s there are 23 regular -street-finders, who supply them with pure, but this is a large -establishment, and the number supplying them is considered far beyond -the average quantity; moreover, Messrs. Leomont and Roberts do more -business in the particular branch of tanning in which the article -is principally used, viz., in dressing the leather for book-covers, -kid-gloves, and a variety of other articles. Some of the other -tanyards, especially the smaller ones, take the substance only as -they happen to want it, and others again employ but a limited number -of hands. If, therefore, we strike an average, and reduce the number -supplying each of the several yards to eight, we shall have 240 persons -regularly engaged in the business: besides these, it may be said that -numbers of the starving and destitute Irish have taken to picking up -the material, but not knowing where to sell it, or how to dispose of -it, they part with it for 2_d._ or 3_d._ the pail-full to the regular -purveyors of it to the tanyards, who of course make a considerable -profit by the transaction. The children of the poor Irish are usually -employed in this manner, but they also pick up rags and bones, and -anything else which may fall in their way. - -I have stated that some of the pure-finders, especially the men, earn -a considerable sum of money per week; their gains are sometimes as -much as 15_s._; indeed I am assured that seven years ago, when they -got from 3_s._ to 4_s._ per pail for the pure, that many of them would -not exchange their position with that of the best paid mechanic in -London. Now, however, the case is altered, for there are twenty now at -the business for every one who followed it then; hence each collects -so much the less in quantity, and, moreover, from the competition gets -so much less for the article. Some of the collectors at present do not -earn 3_s._ per week, but these are mostly old women who are feeble and -unable to get over the ground quickly; others make 5_s._ and 6_s._ in -the course of the week, while the most active and those who clean out -the kennels of the dog fanciers may occasionally make 9_s._ and 10_s._ -and even 15_s._ a week still, but this is of very rare occurrence. -Allowing the finders, one with the other, to earn on an average 5_s._ -per week, it would give the annual earnings of each to be 13_l._, -while the income of the whole 200 would amount to 50_l._ a week, or -2600_l._ per annum. The kennel “pure” is not much valued, indeed many -of the tanners will not even buy it, the reason is that the dogs of -the “fanciers” are fed on almost anything, to save expense; the kennel -cleaners consequently take the precaution of mixing it with what is -found in the street, previous to offering it for sale. - -The pure-finder may at once be distinguished from the bone-grubber and -rag-gatherer; the latter, as I have before mentioned, carries a bag, -and usually a stick armed with a spike, while he is most frequently -to be met with in back streets, narrow lanes, yards and other places, -where dust and rubbish are likely to be thrown out from the adjacent -houses. The pure-finder, on the contrary, is often found in the open -streets, as dogs wander where they like. The pure-finders always carry -a handle basket, generally with a cover, to hide the contents, and have -their right hand covered with a black leather glove; many of them, -however, dispense with the glove, as they say it is much easier to wash -their hands than to keep the glove fit for use. The women generally -have a large pocket for the reception of such rags as they may chance -to fall in with, but they pick up those only of the very best quality, -and will not go out of their way to search even for them. Thus equipped -they may be seen pursuing their avocation in almost every street in and -about London, excepting such streets as are now cleansed by the “street -orderlies,” of whom the pure-finders grievously complain, as being an -unwarrantable interference with the privileges of their class. - -The pure collected is used by leather-dressers and tanners, and more -especially by those engaged in the manufacture of morocco and kid -leather from the skins of old and young goats, of which skins great -numbers are imported, and of the roans and lambskins which are the -sham morocco and kids of the “slop” leather trade, and are used by the -better class of shoemakers, bookbinders, and glovers, for the inferior -requirements of their business. Pure is also used by tanners, as is -pigeon’s dung, for the tanning of the thinner kinds of leather, such as -calf-skins, for which purpose it is placed in pits with an admixture of -lime and bark. - -In the manufacture of moroccos and roans the pure is rubbed by the -hands of the workman into the skin he is dressing. This is done to -“purify” the leather, I was told by an intelligent leather-dresser, and -from that term the word “pure” has originated. The dung has astringent -as well as highly alkaline, or, to use the expression of my informant, -“scouring,” qualities. When the pure has been rubbed into the flesh and -grain of the skin (the “flesh” being originally the interior, and the -“grain” the exterior part of the cuticle), and the skin, thus purified, -has been hung up to be dried, the dung removes, as it were, all such -moisture as, if allowed to remain, would tend to make the leather -unsound or imperfectly dressed. This imperfect dressing, moreover, -gives a disagreeable smell to the leather--and leather-buyers often use -both nose and tongue in making their purchases--and would consequently -prevent that agreeable odour being imparted to the skin which is found -in some kinds of morocco and kid. The peculiar odour of the Russia -leather, so agreeable in the libraries of the rich, is derived from the -bark of young birch trees. It is now manufactured in Bermondsey. - -Among the morocco manufacturers, especially among the old operatives, -there is often a scarcity of employment, and they then dress a few -roans, which they hawk to the cheap warehouses, or sell to the -wholesale shoemakers on their own account. These men usually reside in -small garrets in the poorer parts of Bermondsey, and carry on their -trade in their own rooms, using and keeping the pure there; hence -the “homes” of these poor men are peculiarly uncomfortable, if not -unhealthy. Some of these poor fellows or their wives collect the pure -themselves, often starting at daylight for the purpose; they more -frequently, however, buy it of a regular finder. - -The number of pure-finders I heard estimated, by a man well acquainted -with the tanning and other departments of the leather trade, at from -200 to 250. The finders, I was informed by the same person, collected -about a pail-full a day, clearing 6_s._ a week in the summer--1_s._ -and 1_s._ 2_d._ being the charge for a pail-full; in the short days -of winter, however, and in bad weather, they could not collect five -pail-fulls in a week. - -In the wretched locality already referred to as lying between the Docks -and Rosemary-lane, redolent of filth and pregnant with pestilential -diseases, and whither all the outcasts of the metropolitan population -seem to be drawn, either in the hope of finding fitting associates and -companions in their wretchedness (for there is doubtlessly something -attractive and agreeable to them in such companionship), or else for -the purpose of hiding themselves and their shifts and struggles for -existence from the world,--in this dismal quarter, and branching from -one of the many narrow lanes which interlace it, there is a little -court with about half-a-dozen houses of the very smallest dimensions, -consisting of merely two rooms, one over the other. Here in one of -the upper rooms (the lower one of the same house being occupied by -another family and apparently _filled_ with little ragged children), I -discerned, after considerable difficulty, an old woman, a Pure-finder. -When I opened the door the little light that struggled through the -small window, the many broken panes of which were stuffed with old -rags, was not sufficient to enable me to perceive who or what was in -the room. After a short time, however, I began to make out an old -chair standing near the fire-place, and then to discover a poor old -woman resembling a bundle of rags and filth stretched on some dirty -straw in the corner of the apartment. The place was bare and almost -naked. There was nothing in it except a couple of old tin kettles and a -basket, and some broken crockeryware in the recess of the window. To my -astonishment I found this wretched creature to be, to a certain extent, -a “superior” woman; she could read and write well, spoke correctly, and -appeared to have been a person of natural good sense, though broken up -with age, want, and infirmity, so that she was characterized by all -that dull and hardened stupidity of manner which I have noticed in the -class. She made the following statement:-- - -“I am about 60 years of age. My father was a milkman, and very well -off; he had a barn and a great many cows. I was kept at school till I -was thirteen or fourteen years of age; about that time my father died, -and then I was taken home to help my mother in the business. After a -while things went wrong; the cows began to die, and mother, alleging -she could not manage the business herself, married again. I soon found -out the difference. Glad to get away, anywhere out of the house, I -married a sailor, and was very comfortable with him for some years; as -he made short voyages, and was often at home, and always left me half -his pay. At last he was pressed, when at home with me, and sent away; -I forget now where he was sent to, but I never saw him from that day -to this. The only thing I know is that some sailors came to me four -or five years after, and told me that he deserted from the ship in -which he had gone out, and got on board the _Neptune_, East Indiaman, -bound for Bombay, where he acted as boatswain’s mate; some little time -afterwards, he had got intoxicated while the ship was lying in harbour, -and, going down the side to get into a bumboat, and buy more drink, -he had fallen overboard and was drowned. I got some money that was -due to him from the India House, and, after that was all gone, I went -into service, in the Mile-end Road. There I stayed for several years, -till I met my second husband, who was bred to the water, too, but as a -waterman on the river. We did very well together for a long time, till -he lost his health. He became paralyzed like, and was deprived of the -use of all one side, and nearly lost the sight of one of his eyes; this -was not very conspicuous at first, but when we came to get pinched, and -to be badly off, then any one might have seen that there was something -the matter with his eye. Then we parted with everything we had in the -world; and, at last, when we had no other means of living left, we -were advised to take to gathering ‘Pure.’ At first I couldn’t endure -the business; I couldn’t bear to eat a morsel, and I was obliged to -discontinue it for a long time. My husband kept at it though, for he -could do _that_ well enough, only he couldn’t walk as fast as he ought. -He couldn’t lift his hands as high as his head, but he managed to work -under him, and so put the Pure in the basket. When I saw that he, poor -fellow, couldn’t make enough to keep us both, I took heart and went out -again, and used to gather more than he did; that’s fifteen years ago -now; the times were good then, and we used to do very well. If we only -gathered a pail-full in the day, we could live very well; but we could -do much more than that, for there wasn’t near so many at the business -then, and the Pure was easier to be had. For my part I can’t tell where -all the poor creatures have come from of late years; the world seems -growing worse and worse every day. They have pulled down the price of -Pure, that’s certain; but the poor things must do something, they can’t -starve while there’s anything to be got. Why, no later than six or -seven years ago, it was as high as 3_s._ 6_d._ and 4_s._ a pail-full, -and a ready sale for as much of it as you could get; but now you can -only get 1_s._ and in some places 1_s._ 2_d._ a pail-full; and, as -I said before, there are so many at it, that there is not much left -for a poor old creature like me to find. The men that are strong and -smart get the most, of course, and some of them do very well, at least -they manage to live. Six years ago, my husband complained that he was -ill, in the evening, and lay down in the bed--we lived in Whitechapel -then--he took a fit of coughing, and was smothered in his own blood. O -dear” (the poor old soul here ejaculated), “what troubles I have gone -through! I had eight children at one time, and there is not one of them -alive now. My daughter lived to 30 years of age, and then she died in -childbirth, and, since then, I have had nobody in the wide world to -care for me--none but myself, all alone as I am. After my husband’s -death I couldn’t do much, and all my things went away, one by one, -until I’ve nothing but bare walls, and that’s the reason why I was -vexed at first at your coming in, sir. I was yesterday out all day, and -went round Aldgate, Whitechapel, St. George’s East, Stepney, Bow, and -Bromley, and then came home; after that, I went over to Bermondsey, -and there I got only 6_d._ for my pains. To-day I wasn’t out at all; -I wasn’t well; I had a bad headache, and I’m so much afraid of the -fevers that are all about here--though I don’t know why I should be -afraid of them--I was lying down, when you came, to get rid of my -pains. There’s such a dizziness in my head now, I feel as if it didn’t -belong to me. No, I have earned no money to-day. I have had a piece -of dried bread that I steeped in water to eat. I haven’t eat anything -else to-day; but, pray, sir, don’t tell anybody of it. I could never -bear the thought of going into the ‘great house’ [workhouse]; I’m so -used to the air, that I’d sooner die in the street, as many I know have -done. I’ve known several of our people, who have sat down in the street -with their basket alongside them, and died. I knew one not long ago, -who took ill just as she was stooping down to gather up the Pure, and -fell on her face; she was taken to the London Hospital, and died at -three o’clock in the morning. I’d sooner die like them than be deprived -of my liberty, and be prevented from going about where I liked. No, -I’ll never go into the workhouse; my master is kind to me” [the tanner -whom she supplies]. “When I’m ill, he sometimes gives me a sixpence; -but there’s one gentleman has done us great harm, by forcing so many -into the business. He’s a poor-law guardian, and when any poor person -applies for relief, he tells them to go and gather Pure, and that -he’ll buy it of them (for he’s in the line), and so the parish, you -see, don’t have to give anything, and that’s one way that so many have -come into the trade of late, that the likes of me can do little or no -good at it. Almost every one I’ve ever known engaged at Pure-finding -were people who were better off once. I knew a man who went by the -name of Brown, who picked up Pure for years before I went to it; he -was a very quiet man; he used to lodge in Blue Anchor-yard, and seldom -used to speak to anybody. We two used to talk together sometimes, -but never much. One morning he was found dead in his bed; it was of -a Tuesday morning, and he was buried about 12 o’clock on the Friday -following. About 6 o’clock on that afternoon, three or four gentlemen -came searching all through this place, looking for a man named Brown, -and offering a reward to any who would find him out; there was a whole -crowd about them when I came up. One of the gentlemen said that the man -they wanted had lost the first finger of his right hand, and then I -knew that it was the man that had been buried only that morning. Would -you believe it, Mr. Brown was a real gentleman all the time, and had a -large estate, of I don’t know how many thousand pounds, just left him, -and the lawyers had advertised and searched everywhere for him, but -never found him, you may say, till he was dead. We discovered that his -name was not Brown; he had only taken that name to hide his real one, -which, of course, he did not want any one to know. I’ve often thought -of him, poor man, and all the misery he might have been spared, if the -good news had only come a year or two sooner.” - -Another informant, a Pure-collector, was originally in the Manchester -cotton trade, and held a lucrative situation in a large country -establishment. His salary one year exceeded 250_l._, and his regular -income was 150_l._ “This,” he says, “I lost through drink and neglect. -My master was exceedingly kind to me, and has even assisted me since I -left his employ. He bore with me patiently for many years, but the love -of drink was so strong upon me that it was impossible for him to keep -me any longer.” He has often been drunk, he tells me, for three months -together; and he is now so reduced that he is ashamed to be seen. When -at his master’s it was his duty to carve and help the other assistants -belonging to the establishment, and his hand used to shake so violently -that he has been ashamed to lift the gravy spoon. - -At breakfast he has frequently waited till all the young men had left -the table before he ventured to taste his tea; and immediately, when he -was alone, he has bent his head down to his cup to drink, being utterly -incapable of raising it to his lips. He says he is a living example of -the degrading influence of drink. All his friends have deserted him. He -has suffered enough, he tells me, to make him give it up. He earned the -week before I saw him 5_s._ 2_d._; and the week before that, 6_s._ - -Before leaving me I prevailed upon the man to “take the pledge.” This -is now eighteen months ago, and I have not seen him since. - - -OF THE CIGAR-END FINDERS. - -There are, strictly speaking, none who make a living by picking up the -ends of cigars thrown away as useless by the smokers in the streets, -but there are very many who employ themselves from time to time in -collecting them. Almost all the street-finders, when they meet with -such things, pick them up, and keep them in a pocket set apart for -that purpose. The men allow the ends to accumulate till they amount to -two or three pounds weight, and then some dispose of them to a person -residing in the neighbourhood of Rosemary-lane, who buys them all -up at from 6_d._ to 10_d._ per pound, according to their length and -quality. The long ends are considered the best, as I am told there is -more sound tobacco in them, uninjured by the moisture of the mouth. -The children of the poor Irish, in particular, scour Ratcliff-highway, -the Commercial-road, Mile-end-road, and all the leading thoroughfares -of the East, and every place where cigar smokers are likely to take an -evening’s promenade. The quantity that each of them collects is very -trifling indeed--perhaps not more than a handful during a morning’s -search. I am informed, by an intelligent man living in the midst of -them, that these children go out in the morning not only to gather -cigar-ends, but to pick up out of dust bins, and from amongst rubbish -in the streets, the smallest scraps and crusts of bread, no matter how -hard or filthy they may be. These they put into a little bag which -they carry for the purpose, and, after they have gone their rounds -and collected whatever they can, they take the cigar-ends to the man -who buys them--sometimes getting not more than a halfpenny or a penny -for their morning’s collection. With this they buy a halfpenny or a -pennyworth of oatmeal, which they mix up with a large quantity of -water, and after washing and steeping the hard and dirty crusts, they -put them into the pot or kettle and boil all together. Of this mass the -whole family partake, and it often constitutes all the food they taste -in the course of the day. I have often seen the bone-grubbers eat the -black and soddened crusts they have picked up out of the gutter. - -It would, indeed, be a hopeless task to make any attempt to get at the -number of persons who occasionally or otherwise pick up cigar-ends with -the view of selling them again. For this purpose almost all who ransack -the streets of London for a living may be computed as belonging to -the class; and to these should be added the children of the thousands -of destitute Irish who have inundated the metropolis within the last -few years, and who are to be found huddled together in all the low -neighbourhoods in every suburb of the City. What quantity is collected, -or the amount of money obtained for the ends, there are no means of -ascertaining. - -Let us, however, make a conjecture. There are in round numbers -300,000 inhabited houses in the metropolis; and allowing the married -people living in apartments to be equal in number to the unmarried -“housekeepers,” we may compute that the number of families in London -is about the same as the inhabited houses. Assuming one young or old -gentleman in every ten of these families to smoke one cigar per diem in -the public thoroughfares, we have 30,000 cigar-ends daily, or 210,000 -weekly cast away in the London streets. Now, reckoning 150 cigars to go -to a pound, we may assume that each end so cast away weighs about the -thousandth part of a pound; consequently the gross weight of the ends -flung into the gutter will, in the course of the week, amount to about -2 cwt.; and calculating that only a sixth part of these are picked up -by the finders, it follows that there is very nearly a ton of refuse -tobacco collected annually in the metropolitan thoroughfares. - -The aristocratic quarters of the City and the vicinity of theatres -and casinos are the best for the cigar-end finders. In the Strand, -Regent-street, and the more fashionable thoroughfares, I am told, -there are many ends picked up; but even in these places they do not -exclusively furnish a means of living to any of the finders. All the -collectors sell them to some other person, who acts as middle-man -in the business. How he disposes of the ends is unknown, but it is -supposed that they are resold to some of the large manufacturers of -cigars, and go to form the component part of a new stock of the “best -Havannahs;” or, in other words, they are worked up again to be again -cast away, and again collected by the finders, and so on perhaps, till -the millennium comes. Some suppose them to be cut up and mixed with the -common smoking tobacco, and others that they are used in making snuff. -There are, I am assured, five persons residing in different parts of -London, who are known to purchase the cigar-ends. - -In Naples the sale of cigar-ends is a regular street-traffic, the -street-seller carrying them in a small box suspended round the neck. -In Paris, also, _le Remasseur de Cigares_ is a well-known occupation: -the “ends” thus collected are sold as cheap tobacco to the poor. In -the low lodging-houses of London the ends, when dried, are cut up, and -frequently vended by the finders to such of their fellow-lodgers as are -anxious to enjoy their pipe at the cheapest possible rate. - - -OF THE OLD WOOD GATHERERS. - -All that has been said of the cigar-end finders may, in a great -measure, apply to the wood-gatherers. No one can make a living -exclusively by the gathering of wood, and those who _do_ gather it, -gather as well rags, bones, and bits of metal. They gather it, indeed, -as an adjunct to their other findings, on the principle that “every -little helps.” Those, however, who most frequently look for wood are -the very old and feeble, and the very young, who are both unable to -travel far, or to carry a heavy burden, and they may occasionally be -seen crawling about in the neighbourhood of any new buildings in the -course of construction, or old ones in the course of demolition, and -picking up small odds and ends of wood and chips swept out amongst -dirt and shavings; these they deposit in a bag or basket which they -carry for that purpose. Should there happen to be what they call -“pulling-down work,” that is, taking down old houses, or palings, the -place is immediately beset by a number of wood-gatherers, young and -old, and in general all the poor people of the locality join with them, -to obtain their share of the spoil. What the poor get they take home -and burn, but the wood-gatherers sell all they procure for some small -trifle. - -Some short time ago a portion of the wood-pavement in the city was -being removed; a large number of the old blocks, which were much worn -and of no further use, were thrown aside, and became the perquisite -of the wood-gatherers. During the repair of the street, the spot was -constantly besieged by a motley mob of men, women, and children, who, -in many instances, struggled and fought for the wood rejected as -worthless. This wood they either sold for a trifle as they got it, or -took home and split, and made into bundles for sale as firewood. - -All the mudlarks (of whom I shall treat specially) pick up wood and -chips on the bank of the river; these they sell to poor people in their -own neighbourhood. They sometimes “find” large pieces of a greater -weight than they can carry; in such cases they get some other mudlark -to help them with the load, and the two “go halves” in the produce. The -only parties among the street-finders who do not pick up wood are the -Pure-collectors and the sewer-hunters, or, as they call themselves, -shore-workers, both of whom pass it by as of no value. - -It is impossible to estimate the quantity of wood which is thus -gathered, or what the amount may be which the collector realises in the -course of the year. - - -OF THE DREDGERS, OR RIVER FINDERS. - -The dredgermen of the Thames, or river finders, naturally occupy the -same place with reference to the street-finders, as the purlmen or -river beer-sellers do to those who get their living by selling in the -streets. It would be in itself a curious inquiry to trace the origin -of the manifold occupations in which men are found to be engaged in -the present day, and to note how promptly every circumstance and -occurrence was laid hold of, as it happened to arise, which appeared to -have any tendency to open up a new occupation, and to mark the gradual -progress, till it became a regularly-established employment, followed -by a separate class of people, fenced round by rules and customs of -their own, and who at length grew to be both in their habits and -peculiarities plainly distinct from the other classes among whom they -chanced to be located. - -There has been no historian among the dredgers of the Thames to record -the commencement of the business, and the utmost that any of the -river-finders can tell is that his father had been a dredger, and so -had his father before him, and that _that’s_ the reason why they are -dredgers also. But no such people as dredgers were known on the Thames -in remote days; and before London had become an important trading -port, where nothing was likely to be got for the searching, it is not -probable that people would have been induced to search. In those days, -the only things searched for in the river were the bodies of persons -drowned, accidentally or otherwise. For this purpose, the Thames -fishermen of all others, appeared to be the best adapted. They were on -the spot at all times, and had various sorts of tackle, such as nets, -lines, hooks, &c. The fishermen well understood everything connected -with the river, such as the various sets of the tide, and the nature -of the bottom, and they were therefore on such occasions invariably -applied to for these purposes. - -It is known to all who remember anything of Old London Bridge, that at -certain times of the tide, in consequence of the velocity with which -the water rushed through the narrow apertures which the arches then -afforded for its passage, to bring a boat in safety through the bridge -was a feat to be attempted only by the skilful and experienced. This -feat was known as “shooting” London Bridge; and it was no unusual thing -for accidents to happen even to the most expert. In fact, numerous -accidents occurred at this bridge, and at such times valuable articles -were sometimes lost, for which high rewards were offered to the finder. -Here again the fishermen came into requisition, the small drag-net, -which they used while rowing, offering itself for the purpose; for, -by fixing an iron frame round the mouth of the drag-net, this part -of it, from its specific gravity, sunk first to the bottom, and -consequently scraped along as they pulled forward, collecting into the -net everything that came in its way; when it was nearly filled, which -the rower always knew by the weight, it was hauled up to the surface, -its contents examined, and the object lost generally recovered. - -It is thus apparent that the fishermen of the Thames were the men -originally employed as dredgermen; though casually, indeed, at first, -and according as circumstances occurred requiring their services. By -degrees, however, as the commerce of the river increased, and a greater -number of articles fell overboard from the shipping, they came to be -more frequently called into requisition, and so they were naturally led -to adopt the dredging as part and parcel of their business. Thus it -remains to the present day. - -The fishermen all serve a regular apprenticeship, as they say -themselves, “duly and truly” for seven years. During the time of their -apprenticeship they are (or rather, in former times they _were_) -obliged to sleep in their master’s boat at night to take care of his -property, and were subject to many other curious regulations, which are -foreign to this subject. - -I have said that the fishermen of the Thames to the present day unite -the dredging to their proper calling. By this I mean that they employ -themselves in fishing during the summer and autumn, either from -Barking Creek downwards, or from Chelsea Reach upwards, catching dabs, -flounders, eels, and other sorts of fish for the London markets. But in -winter when the days are short and cold, and the weather stormy, they -prefer stopping at home, and dredging the bed of the river for anything -they may chance to find. There are others, however, who have started -wholly in the dredging line, there being no hindrance or impediment -to any one doing so, nor any licence required for the purpose: these -dredge the river winter and summer alike, and are, in fact, the only -real dredgermen of the present day living solely by that occupation. - -There are in all about 100 dredgermen at work on the river, and these -are located as follows:-- - - Dredgermen. - From Putney to Vauxhall there are 20 - From Vauxhall to London-bridge 40 - From London-bridge to Deptford 20 - And from Deptford to Gravesend 20 - --- - 100 - -All these reside, in general, on the south side of the Thames, the two -places most frequented by them being Lambeth and Rotherhithe. They do -not, however, confine themselves to the neighbourhoods wherein they -reside, but extend their operations to all parts of the river, where -it is likely that they may pick up anything; and it is perfectly -marvellous with what rapidity the intelligence of any accident -calculated to afford them employment is spread among them; for should -a loaded coal barge be sunk over night, by daylight the next morning -every dredgerman would be sure to be upon the spot, prepared to collect -what he could from the wreck at the bottom of the river. - -The boats of the dredgermen are of a peculiar shape. They have no -stern, but are the same fore and aft. They are called Peter boats, -but not one of the men with whom I spoke had the least idea as to the -origin of the name. These boats are to be had at almost all prices, -according to their condition and age--from 30_s._ to 20_l._ The boats -used by the fishermen dredgermen are decidedly the most valuable. One -with the other, perhaps the whole may average 10_l._ each; and this sum -will give 1000_l._ as the value of the entire number. A complete set -of tackle, including drags, will cost 2_l._, which comes to 200_l._ -for all hands; and thus we have the sum of 1200_l._ as the amount of -capital invested in the dredging of the Thames. - -It is by no means an easy matter to form any estimate of the earnings -of the dredgermen, as they are a matter of mere chance. In former -years, when Indiamen and all the foreign shipping lay in the river, -the river finders were in the habit of doing a good business, not only -in their own line, through the greater quantities of rope, bones, -and other things which then were thrown or fell overboard, but they -also contrived to smuggle ashore great quantities of tobacco, tea, -spirits, and other contraband articles, and thought it a bad day’s work -when they did not earn a pound independent of their dredging. An old -dredger told me he had often in those days made 5_l._ before breakfast -time. After the excavation of the various docks, and after the larger -shipping had departed from the river, the finders were obliged to -content themselves with the chances of mere dredging; and even then, I -am informed, they were in the habit of earning one week with another -throughout the year, about 25_s._ per week, each, or 6500_l._ per annum -among all. Latterly, however, the earnings of these men have greatly -fallen off, especially in the summer, for then they cannot get so good -a price for the coal they find as in the winter--6_d._ per bushel being -the summer price; and, as they consider three bushels a good day’s -work, their earnings at this period of the year amount only to 1_s._ -6_d._ per day, excepting when they happen to pick up some bones or -pieces of metal, or to find a dead body for which there is a reward. In -the winter, however, the dredgermen can readily get 1_s._ per bushel -for all the coals they find; and far more coals are to be found then -than in summer, for there are more colliers in the river, and far more -accidents at that season. Coal barges are often sunk in the winter, -and on such occasions they make a good harvest. Moreover there is the -finding of bodies, for which they not only get the reward, but 5_s._, -which they call inquest money; together with many other chances, such -as the finding of money and valuables among the rubbish they bring up -from the bottom; but as the last-mentioned are accidents happening -throughout the year, I am inclined to think that they have understated -the amount which they are in the habit of realizing even in the summer. - -The dredgers, as a class, may be said to be altogether uneducated, not -half a dozen out of the whole number being able to read their own name, -and only one or two to write it; this select few are considered by the -rest as perfect prodigies. “Lor’ bless you!” said one, “I on’y wish -you’d ’ear Bill S---- read; I on’y jist wish you’d ’ear him. Why that -ere Bill can read faster nor a dog can trot. And, what’s more, I seed -him write an ole letter hisself, ev’ry word on it! What do you think -o’ that now?” The ignorance of the dredgermen may be accounted for by -the men taking so early to the water; the bustle and excitement of the -river being far more attractive to them than the routine of a school. -Almost as soon as they are able to do anything, the dredgermen’s boys -are taken by their fathers afloat to assist in picking out the coals, -bones, and other things of any use, from the midst of the rubbish -brought up in their drag-nets; or else the lads are sent on board -as assistants to one or other of the fishermen during their fishing -voyages. When once engaged in this way it has been found impossible -afterwards to keep the youths from the water; and if they have learned -anything previously they very soon forget it. - -It might be expected that the dredgers, in a manner depending on -chance for their livelihood, and leading a restless sort of life on -the water, would closely resemble the costermongers in their habits; -but it is far otherwise. There can be no two classes more dissimilar, -except in their hatred of restraint. The dredgers are sober and steady; -gambling is unknown amongst them; and they are, to an extraordinary -degree, laborious, persevering, and patient. They are in general men of -short stature, but square built, strong, and capable of enduring great -fatigue, and have a silent and thoughtful look. Being almost always -alone, and studying how they may best succeed in finding what they -seek, marking the various sets of the tide, and the direction in which -things falling into the water at a particular place must necessarily -be carried, they become the very opposite to the other river people, -especially to the watermen, who are brawling and clamorous, and delight -in continually “chaffing” each other. In consequence of the sober and -industrious habits of the dredgermen their homes are, as they say, -“pretty fair” for working men, though there is nothing very luxurious -to be found in them, nor indeed anything beyond what is absolutely -necessary. After their day’s work, especially if they have “done well,” -these men smoke a pipe over a pint or two of beer at the nearest -public-house, get home early to bed, and if the tide answers may be -found on the river patiently dredging away at two or three o’clock in -the morning. - -Whenever a loaded coal barge happens to sink, as I have already -intimated, it is surprising how short a time elapses before that part -of the river is alive with the dredgers. They flock thither from all -parts. The river on such occasions presents a very animated appearance. -At first they are all in a group, and apparently in confusion, crossing -and re-crossing each other’s course; some with their oars pulled in -while they examine the contents of their nets, and empty the coals -into the bottom of their boats; others rowing and tugging against the -stream, to obtain an advantageous position for the next cast; and when -they consider they have found this, down go the dredging-nets to the -bottom, and away they row again with the stream, as if pulling for a -wager, till they find by the weight of their net that it is full; then -they at once stop, haul it to the surface, and commence another course. -Others who have been successful in getting their boats loaded may be -seen pushing away from the main body, and making towards the shore. -Here they busily employ themselves, with what help they can get, in -emptying the boat of her cargo--carrying it ashore in old coal baskets, -bushel measures, or anything else which will suit their purpose; and -when this is completed they pull out again to join their comrades, and -commence afresh. They continue working thus till the returning tide -puts an end to their labours, but these are resumed after the tide has -fallen to a certain depth; and so they go on, working night and day -while there is anything to be got. - -The dredgerman and his boat may be immediately distinguished from -all others; there is nothing similar to them on the river. The sharp -cutwater fore and aft, and short rounded appearance of the vessel, -marks it out at once from the skiff or wherry of the waterman. There -is, too, always the appearance of labour about the boat, like a ship -returning after a long voyage, daubed and filthy, and looking sadly in -need of a thorough cleansing. The grappling irons are over the bow, -resting on a coil of rope; while the other end of the boat is filled -with coals, bones, and old rope, mixed with the mud of the river. The -ropes of the dredging-net hang over the side. A short stout figure, -with a face soiled and blackened with perspiration, and surmounted by a -tarred sou’-wester, the body habited in a soiled check shirt, with the -sleeves turned up above the elbows, and exhibiting a pair of sunburnt -brawny arms, is pulling at the sculls, not with the ease and lightness -of the waterman, but toiling and tugging away like a galley slave, as -he scours the bed of the river with his dredging-net in search of some -hoped-for prize. - -The dredgers, as was before stated, are the men who find almost all -the bodies of persons drowned. If there be a reward offered for the -recovery of a body, numbers of the dredgers will at once endeavour to -obtain it, while if there be no reward, there is at least the inquest -money to be had--beside other chances. What these chances are may -be inferred from the well-known fact, that no body recovered by a -dredgerman ever happens to have any money about it, when brought to -shore. There may, indeed, be a watch in the fob or waistcoat pocket, -for that article would be likely to be traced. There may, too, be a -purse or pocket-book forthcoming, but somehow it is invariably empty. -The dredgers cannot by any reasoning or argument be made to comprehend -that there is anything like dishonesty in emptying the pockets of a -dead man. They consider them as their just perquisites. They say that -any one who finds a body does precisely the same, and that if they -did not do so the police would. After having had all the trouble and -labour, they allege that they have a much better right to whatever -is to be got, than the police who have had nothing whatever to do -with it. There are also people who shrewdly suspect that some of the -coals from the barges lying in the river, very often find their way -into the dredgers’ boats, especially when the dredgers are engaged in -night-work; and there are even some who do not hold them guiltless of, -now and then, when opportunity offers, smuggling things ashore from -many of the steamers coming from foreign parts. But such things, I -repeat, the dredgers consider in the fair way of their business. - -One of the most industrious, and I believe one of the most skilful and -successful of this peculiar class, gave me the following epitome of his -history. - -“Father was a dredger, and grandfather afore him; grandfather was a -dredger and a fisherman too. A’most as soon as I was able to crawl, -father took me with him in the boat to help him to pick the coals, and -bones, and other things out of the net, and to use me to the water. -When I got bigger and stronger, I was sent to the parish school, but I -didn’t like it half as well as the boat, and couldn’t be got to stay -two days together. At last I went above bridge, and went along with a -fisherman, and used to sleep in the boat every night. I liked to sleep -in the boat; I used to be as comfortable as could be. Lor bless you! -there’s a tilt to them boats, and no rain can’t git at you. I used to -lie awake of a night in them times, and listen to the water shipping -ag’in the boat, and think it fine fun. I might a got bound ’prentice, -but I got aboard a smack, where I stayed three or four year, and if I’d -a stayed there, I’d a liked it much better. But I heerd as how father -was ill, so I com’d home, and took to the dredging, and am at it off -and on ever since. I got no larnin’, how could I? There’s on’y one or -two of us dredgers as knows anything of larnin’, and they’re no better -off than the rest. Larnin’s no use to a dredger, he hasn’t got no time -to read; and if he had, why it wouldn’t tell him where the holes and -furrows is at the bottom of the river, and where things is to be found. -To be sure there’s holes and furrows at the bottom. I know a good many. -I know a furrow off Lime’us Point, no wider nor the dredge, and I can -go there, and when others can’t git anything but stones and mud, I -can git four or five bushel o’ coal. You see they lay there; they get -in with the set of the tide, and can’t git out so easy like. Dredgers -don’t do so well now as they used to do. You know Pelican Stairs? -well, before the Docks was built, when the ships lay there, I could -go under Pelican Pier and pick up four or five shilling of a morning. -What was that tho’ to father? I hear him say he often made 5_l._ afore -breakfast, and nobody ever the wiser. Them were fine times! there was -a good livin’ to be picked up on the water them days. About ten year -ago, the fishermen at Lambeth, them as sarves their time ‘duly and -truly’ thought to put us off the water, and went afore the Lord Mayor, -but they couldn’t do nothink after all. They do better nor us, as they -go fishin’ all the summer, when the dredgin’ is bad, and come back in -winter. Some on us down here” [Rotherhithe] “go a deal-portering in the -summer, or unloading ’tatoes, or anything else we can get; when we have -nothin’ else to do, we go on the river. Father don’t dredge now, he’s -too old for that; it takes a man to be strong to dredge, so father goes -to ship scrapin’. He on’y sits on a plank outside the ship, and scrapes -off the old tar with a scraper. We does very well for all that--why he -can make his half a bull a day [2_s._ 6_d._] when he gits work, but -that’s not always; howsomever I helps the old man at times, when I’m -able. I’ve found a good many bodies. I got a many rewards, and a tidy -bit of inquest money. There’s 5_s._ 6_d._ inquest money at Rotherhithe, -and on’y a shillin’ at Deptford; I can’t make out how that is, but -that’s all they give, I know. I never finds anythink on the bodies. Lor -bless you! people don’t have anythink in their pockets when they gits -drowned, they are not such fools as all that. Do you see them two marks -there on the back of my hand? Well, one day--I was on’y young then--I -was grabblin’ for old rope in Church Hole, when I brings up a body, and -just as I was fixing the rope on his leg to tow him ashore, two swells -comes down in a skiff, and lays hold of the painter of my boat, and -tows me ashore. The hook of the drag went right thro’ the trowsers of -the drowned man and my hand, and I couldn’t let go no how, and tho’ I -roared out like mad, the swells didn’t care, but dragged me into the -stairs. When I got there, my arm, and the corpse’s shoe and trowsers, -was all kivered with my blood. What do you think the gents said?--why, -they told me as how they had done me good, in towin’ the body in, and -ran away up the stairs. Tho’ times ain’t near so good as they was, I -manages purty tidy, and hasn’t got no occasion to hollor much; but -there’s some of the dredgers as would hollor, if they was ever so well -off.” - - -OF THE SEWER-HUNTERS. - -Some few years ago, the main sewers, having their outlets on the river -side, were completely open, so that any person desirous of exploring -their dark and uninviting recesses might enter at the river side, and -wander away, provided he could withstand the combination of villanous -stenches which met him at every step, for many miles, in any direction. -At that time it was a thing of very frequent occurrence, especially -at the spring tides, for the water to rush into the sewers, pouring -through them like a torrent, and then to burst up through the gratings -into the streets, flooding all the low-lying districts in the vicinity -of the river, till the streets of Shadwell and Wapping resembled a -Dutch town, intersected by a series of muddy canals. Of late, however, -to remedy this defect, the Commissioners have had a strong brick wall -built within the entrance to the several sewers. In each of these brick -walls there is an opening covered by a strong iron door, which hangs -from the top and is so arranged that when the tide is low the rush of -the water and other filth on the inner side, forces it back and allows -the contents of the sewer to pass into the river, whilst when the tide -rises the door is forced so close against the wall by the pressure of -the water outside that none can by any possibility enter, and thus the -river neighbourhoods are secured from the deluges which were heretofore -of such frequent occurrence. - -Were it not a notorious fact, it might perhaps be thought impossible, -that men could be found who, for the chance of obtaining a living of -some sort or other, would, day after day, and year after year, continue -to travel through these underground channels for the offscouring of -the city; but such is the case even at the present moment. In former -times, however, this custom prevailed much more than now, for in those -days the sewers were entirely open and presented no obstacle to any -one desirous of entering them. Many wondrous tales are still told -among the people of men having lost their way in the sewers, and of -having wandered among the filthy passages--their lights extinguished -by the noisome vapours--till, faint and overpowered, they dropped down -and died on the spot. Other stories are told of sewer-hunters beset -by myriads of enormous rats, and slaying thousands of them in their -struggle for life, till at length the swarms of the savage things -overpowered them, and in a few days afterwards their skeletons were -discovered picked to the very bones. Since the iron doors, however, -have been placed on the main sewers a prohibition has been issued -against entering them, and a reward of 5_l._ offered to any person -giving information so as to lead to the conviction of any offender. -Nevertheless many still travel through these foul labyrinths, in search -of such valuables as may have found their way down the drains. - -The persons who are in the habit of searching the sewers, call -themselves “shore-men” or “shore-workers.” They belong, in a certain -degree, to the same class as the “mud-larks,” that is to say, -they travel through the mud along shore in the neighbourhood of -ship-building and ship-breaking yards, for the purpose of picking -up copper nails, bolts, iron, and old rope. The shore-men, however, -do not collect the lumps of coal and wood they meet with on their -way, but leave them as the proper perquisites of the mud-larks. The -sewer-hunters were formerly, and indeed are still, called by the name -of “Toshers,” the articles which they pick up in the course of their -wanderings along shore being known among themselves by the general -term “tosh,” a word more particularly applied by them to anything made -of copper. These “Toshers” may be seen, especially on the Surrey side -of the Thames, habited in long greasy velveteen coats, furnished with -pockets of vast capacity, and their nether limbs encased in dirty -canvas trowsers, and any old slops of shoes, that may be fit only for -wading through the mud. They carry a bag on their back, and in their -hand a pole seven or eight feet long, on one end of which there is -a large iron hoe. The uses of this instrument are various; with it -they try the ground wherever it appears unsafe, before venturing on -it, and, when assured of its safety, walk forward steadying their -footsteps with the staff. Should they, as often happens, even to the -most experienced, sink in some quagmire, they immediately throw out the -long pole armed with the hoe, which is always held uppermost for this -purpose, and with it seizing hold of any object within their reach, -are thereby enabled to draw themselves out; without the pole, however, -their danger would be greater, for the more they struggled to extricate -themselves from such places, the deeper they would sink; and even with -it, they might perish, I am told, in some part, if there were nobody -at hand to render them assistance. Finally, they make use of this -pole to rake about the mud when searching for iron, copper, rope, and -bones. They mostly exhibit great skill in discovering these things in -unlikely places, and have a knowledge of the various sets of the tide, -calculated to carry articles to particular points, almost equal to the -dredgermen themselves. Although they cannot “pick up” as much now as -they formerly did, they are still able to make what they call a fair -living, and can afford to look down with a species of aristocratic -contempt on the puny efforts of their less fortunate brethren the -“mudlarks.” - -To enter the sewers and explore them to any considerable distance is -considered, even by those acquainted with what is termed “working -the shores,” an adventure of no small risk. There are a variety of -perils to be encountered in such places. The brick-work in many -parts--especially in the old sewers--has become rotten through the -continual action of the putrefying matter and moisture, and parts have -fallen down and choked up the passage with heaps of rubbish; over these -obstructions, nevertheless, the sewer-hunters have to scramble “in -the best way they can.” In such parts they are careful not to touch -the brick-work over head, for the slightest tap might bring down an -avalanche of old bricks and earth, and severely injure them, if not -bury them in the rubbish. Since the construction of the new sewers, the -old ones are in general abandoned by the “hunters;” but in many places -the former channels cross and re-cross those recently constructed, -and in the old sewers a person is very likely to lose his way. It is -dangerous to venture far into any of the smaller sewers branching -off from the main, for in this the “hunters” have to stoop low down -in order to proceed; and, from the confined space, there are often -accumulated in such places, large quantities of foul air, which, as -one of them stated, will “cause instantious death.” Moreover, far from -there being any romance in the tales told of the rats, these vermin are -really numerous and formidable in the sewers, and have been known, I am -assured, to attack men when alone, and even sometimes when accompanied -by others, with such fury that the people have escaped from them with -difficulty. They are particularly ferocious and dangerous, if they -be driven into some corner whence they cannot escape, when they will -immediately fly at any one that opposes their progress. I received a -similar account to this from one of the London flushermen. There are -moreover, in some quarters, ditches or trenches which are filled as the -water rushes up the sewers with the tide; in these ditches the water is -retained by a sluice, which is shut down at high tide, and lifted again -at low tide, when it rushes down the sewers with all the violence of a -mountain torrent, sweeping everything before it. If the sewer-hunter be -not close to some branch sewer, so that he can run into it, whenever -the opening of these sluices takes place, he must inevitably perish. -The trenches or water reservoirs for the cleansing of the sewers are -chiefly on the south side of the river, and, as a proof of the great -danger to which the sewer-hunters are exposed in such cases, it may -be stated, that not very long ago, a sewer on the south side of the -Thames was opened to be repaired; a long ladder reached to the bottom -of the sewer, down which the bricklayer’s labourer was going with a -hod of bricks, when the rush of water from the sluice, struck the -bottom of the ladder, and instantly swept away ladder, labourer, and -all. The bricklayer fortunately was enjoying his “pint and pipe” at -a neighbouring public-house. The labourer was found by my informant, -a “shore-worker,” near the mouth of the sewer quite dead, battered, -and disfigured in a frightful manner. There was likewise great danger -in former times from the rising of the tide in the sewers, so that it -was necessary for the shore-men to have quitted them before the water -had got any height within the entrance. At present, however, this is -obviated in those sewers where the main is furnished with an iron door -towards the river. - -The shore-workers, when about to enter the sewers, provide themselves, -in addition to the long hoe already described, with a canvas apron, -which they tie round them, and a dark lantern similar to a policeman’s; -this they strap before them on their right breast, in such a manner -that on removing the shade, the bull’s-eye throws the light straight -forward when they are in an erect position, and enables them to -see everything in advance of them for some distance; but when they -stoop, it throws the light directly under them, so that they can then -distinctly see any object at their feet. The sewer-hunters usually -go in gangs of three or four for the sake of company, and in order -that they may be the better able to defend themselves from the rats. -The old hands who have been often up (and every gang endeavours to -include at least one experienced person), travel a long distance, not -only through the main sewers, but also through many of the branches. -Whenever the shore-men come near a street grating, they close their -lanterns and watch their opportunity of gliding silently past -unobserved, for otherwise a crowd might collect over head and intimate -to the policeman on duty, that there were persons wandering in the -sewers below. The shore-workers never take dogs with them, lest their -barking when hunting the rats might excite attention. As the men go -along they search the bottom of the sewer, raking away the mud with -their hoe, and pick, from between the crevices of the brick-work, -money, or anything else that may have lodged there. There are in many -parts of the sewers holes where the brick-work has been worn away, -and in these holes clusters of articles are found, which have been -washed into them from time to time, and perhaps been collecting there -for years; such as pieces of iron, nails, various scraps of metal, -coins of every description, all rusted into a mass like a rock, and -weighing from a half hundred to two hundred weight altogether. These -“conglomerates” of metal are too heavy for the men to take out of -the sewers, so that if unable to break them up, they are compelled -to leave them behind; and there are very many such masses, I am -informed, lying in the sewers at this moment, of immense weight, and -growing larger every day by continual additions. The shore-men find -great quantities of money--of copper money especially; sometimes they -dive their arm down to the elbow in the mud and filth and bring up -shillings, sixpences, half-crowns, and occasionally half-sovereigns -and sovereigns. They always find the coins standing edge uppermost -between the bricks in the bottom, where the mortar has been worn away. -The sewer-hunters occasionally find plate, such as spoons, ladles, -silver-handled knives and forks, mugs and drinking cups, and now and -then articles of jewellery; but even while thus “in luck” as they call -it, they do not omit to fill the bags on their backs with the more -cumbrous articles they meet with--such as metals of every description, -rope and bones. There is always a great quantity of these things to be -met with in the sewers, they being continually washed down from the -cesspools and drains of the houses. When the sewer-hunters consider -they have searched long enough, or when they have found as much as they -can conveniently take away, the gang leave the sewers and, adjourning -to the nearest of their homes, count out the money they have picked -up, and proceed to dispose of the old metal, bones, rope, &c.; this -done, they then, as they term it, “whack” the whole lot; that is, they -divide it equally among all hands. At these divisions, I am assured, -it frequently occurs that each member of the gang will realise from -30_s._ to 2_l._--this at least _was_ a frequent occurrence some few -years ago. Of late, however, the shore-men are obliged to use far more -caution, as the police, and especially those connected with the river, -who are more on the alert, as well as many of the coal-merchants in the -neighbourhood of the sewers, would give information if they saw any -suspicious persons approaching them. - -The principal localities in which the shore-hunters reside -are in Mint-square, Mint-street, and Kent-street, in the -Borough--Snow’s-fields, Bermondsey--and that never-failing locality -between the London Docks and Rosemary-lane which appears to be a -concentration of all the misery of the kingdom. There were known to be -a few years ago nearly 200 sewer-hunters, or “toshers,” and, incredible -as it may appear, I have satisfied myself that, taking one week with -another, they could not be said to make much short of 2_l._ per week. -Their probable gains, I was told, were about 6_s._ per day all the year -round. At this rate the property recovered from the sewers of London -would have amounted to no less than 20,000_l._ per annum, which would -make the amount of property lost down the drains of each house amount -to 1_s._ 4_d._ a year. The shore-hunters of the present day greatly -complain of the recent restrictions, and inveigh in no measured terms -against the constituted authorities. “They won’t let us in to work the -shores,” say they, “’cause there’s a little danger. They fears as how -we’ll get suffocated, at least they tells us so; but they don’t care if -we get starved! no, they doesn’t mind nothink about that.” - -It is, however, more than suspected that these men find plenty of means -to evade the vigilance of the sewer officials, and continue quietly to -reap a considerable harvest, gathered whence it might otherwise have -rotted in obscurity. - -The sewer-hunters, strange as it may appear, are certainly smart -fellows, and take decided precedence of all the other “finders” of -London, whether by land or water, both on account of the greater amount -of their earnings, and the skill and courage they manifest in the -pursuit of their dangerous employment. But like all who make a living -as it were by a game of chance, plodding, carefulness, and saving -habits cannot be reckoned among their virtues; they are improvident, -even to a proverb. With their gains, superior even to those of the -better-paid artizans, and far beyond the amount received by many -clerks, who have to maintain a “respectable appearance,” the shore-men -might, with but ordinary prudence, live well, have comfortable homes, -and even be able to save sufficient to provide for themselves in -their old age. Their practice, however, is directly the reverse. They -no sooner make a “haul,” as they say, than they adjourn to some low -public-house in the neighbourhood, and seldom leave till empty pockets -and hungry stomachs drive them forth to procure the means for a fresh -debauch. It is principally on this account that, despite their large -gains, they are to be found located in the most wretched quarter of the -metropolis. - -It might be supposed that the sewer-hunters (passing much of their time -in the midst of the noisome vapours generated by the sewers, the odour -of which, escaping upwards from the gratings in the streets, is dreaded -and shunned by all as something pestilential) would exhibit in their -pallid faces the unmistakable evidence of their unhealthy employment. -But this is far from the fact. Strange to say, the sewer-hunters are -strong, robust, and healthy men, generally florid in their complexion, -while many of them know illness only by name. Some of the elder men, -who head the gangs when exploring the sewers, are between 60 and 80 -years of age, and have followed the employment during their whole -lives. The men appear to have a fixed belief that the odour of the -sewers contributes in a variety of ways to their general health; -nevertheless, they admit that accidents occasionally occur from the air -in some places being fully impregnated with mephitic gas. - -I found one of these men, from whom I derived much information, and -who is really an active intelligent man, in a court off Rosemary-lane. -Access is gained to this court through a dark narrow entrance, scarcely -wider than a doorway, running beneath the first floor of one of the -houses in the adjoining street. The court itself is about 50 yards -long, and not more than three yards wide, surrounded by lofty wooden -houses, with jutting abutments in many of the upper stories that -almost exclude the light, and give them the appearance of being about -to tumble down upon the heads of the intruders. This court is densely -inhabited; every room has its own family, more or less in number; and -in many of them, I am assured, there are two families residing, the -better to enable the one to whom the room is let to pay the rent. At -the time of my visit, which was in the evening, after the inmates had -returned from their various employments, some quarrel had arisen among -them. The court was so thronged with the friends of the contending -individuals and spectators of the fight that I was obliged to stand -at the entrance, unable to force my way through the dense multitude, -while labourers and street-folk with shaggy heads, and women with dirty -caps and fuzzy hair, thronged every window above, and peered down -anxiously at the affray. There must have been some hundreds of people -collected there, and yet all were inhabitants of this very court, for -the noise of the quarrel had not yet reached the street. On wondering -at the number, my informant, when the noise had ceased, explained the -matter as follows: “You see, sir, there’s more than 30 houses in this -here court, and there’s not less than eight rooms in every house; now -there’s nine or ten people in some of the rooms, I knows, but just say -four in every room, and calculate what that there comes to.” I did, and -found it, to my surprise, to be 960. “Well,” continued my informant, -chuckling and rubbing his hands in evident delight at the result, “you -may as well just tack a couple a hundred on to the tail o’ them for -make-weight, as we’re not werry pertikler about a hundred or two one -way or the other in these here places.” - -In this court, up three flights of narrow stairs that creaked and -trembled at every footstep, and in an ill-furnished garret, dwelt the -shore-worker--a man who, had he been careful, according to his own -account at least, might have money in the bank and be the proprietor of -the house in which he lived. The sewer-hunters, like the street-people, -are all known by some peculiar nickname, derived chiefly from some -personal characteristic. It would be a waste of time to inquire for -them by their right names, even if you were acquainted with them, for -none else would know them, and no intelligence concerning them could -be obtained; while under the title of Lanky Bill, Long Tom, One-eyed -George, Short-armed Jack, they are known to every one. - -My informant, who is also dignified with a title, or as he calls it -a “handle to his name,” gave me the following account of himself: “I -was born in Birmingham, but afore I recollects anythink, we came to -London. The first thing I remembers is being down on the shore at -Cuckold’s P’int, when the tide was out and up to my knees in mud, and a -gitting down deeper and deeper every minute till I was picked up by one -of the shore-workers. I used to git down there every day, to look at -the ships and boats a sailing up and down; I’d niver be tired a looking -at them at that time. At last father ’prenticed me to a blacksmith in -Bermondsey, _and then I couldn’t git down to the river when I liked, -so I got to hate the forge and the fire, and blowing the bellows, and -couldn’t stand the confinement no how,--at last I cuts and runs_. After -some time they gits me back ag’in, but I cuts ag’in. I was determined -not to stand it. I wouldn’t go home for fear I’d be sent back, so I -goes down to Cuckold’s P’int and there I sits near half the day, when -who should I see but the old un as had picked me up out of the mud when -I was a sinking. I tells him all about it, and he takes me home along -with hisself, and gits me a bag and an o, and takes me out next day, -and shows me what to do, and shows me the dangerous places, and the -places what are safe, and how to rake in the mud for rope, and bones, -and iron, and that’s the way I comed to be a shore-worker. Lor’ bless -you, I’ve worked Cuckold’s P’int for more nor twenty year. I know -places where you’d go over head and ears in the mud, and jist alongside -on ’em you may walk as safe as you can on this floor. But it don’t do -for a stranger to try it, he’d wery soon git in, and it’s not so easy -to git out agin, I can tell you. I stay’d with the old un a long time, -and we used to git lots o’ tin, specially when we’d go to work the -sewers. I liked that well enough. I could git into small places where -the old un couldn’t, and when I’d got near the grating in the street, -I’d search about in the bottom of the sewer; I’d put down my arm to my -shoulder in the mud and bring up shillings and half-crowns, and lots -of coppers, and plenty other things. I once found a silver jug as big -as a quart pot, and often found spoons and knives and forks and every -thing you can think of. Bless your heart the smells nothink; it’s a -roughish smell at first, but nothink near so bad as you thinks, ’cause, -you see, there’s sich lots o’ water always a coming down the sewer, -and the air gits in from the gratings, and that helps to sweeten it a -bit. There’s some places, ’specially in the old sewers, where they say -there’s foul air, and they tells me the foul air ’ill cause instantious -death, but I niver met with anythink of the kind, and I think if there -was sich a thing I should know somethink about it, for I’ve worked the -sewers, off and on, for twenty year. When we comes to a narrow-place -as we don’t know, we takes the candle out of the lantern and fastens -it on the hend of the o, and then runs it up the sewer, and if the -light stays in, we knows as there a’n’t no danger. We used to go up -the city sewer at Blackfriars-bridge, but that’s stopped up now; it’s -boarded across inside. The city wouldn’t let us up if they knew it, -’cause of the danger, they say, but they don’t care if we hav’n’t got -nothink to eat nor a place to put our heads in, while there’s plenty -of money lying there and good for nobody. If you was caught up it and -brought afore the Lord Mayor, he’d give you fourteen days on it, as -safe as the bellows, so a good many on us now is afraid to wenture in. -We don’t wenture as we used to, but still it’s done at times. There’s -a many places as I knows on where the bricks has fallen down, and that -there’s dangerous; it’s so delaberated that if you touches it with your -head or with the hend of the o, it ’ill all come down atop o’ you. I’ve -often seed as many as a hundred rats at once, and they’re woppers in -the sewers, I can tell you; them there water rats, too, is far more -ferociouser than any other rats, and they’d think nothink of tackling -a man, if they found they couldn’t get away no how, but if they can -why they runs by and gits out o’ the road. I knows a chap as the rats -tackled in the sewers; they bit him hawfully: you must ha’ heard on it; -it was him as the watermen went in arter when they heard him a shouting -as they was a rowin’ by. Only for the watermen the rats would ha’ done -for him, safe enough. Do you recollect hearing on the man as was found -in the sewers about twelve year ago?--oh you must--the rats eat every -bit of him, and left nothink but his bones. I knowed him well, he was a -rig’lar shore-worker. - -“The rats is wery dangerous, that’s sartain, but we always goes three -or four on us together, and the varmint’s too wide awake to tackle us -then, for they know they’d git off second best. You can go a long way -in the sewers if you like; I don’t know how far. I niver was at the -end on them myself, for a cove can’t stop in longer than six or seven -hour, ’cause of the tide; you must be out before that’s up. There’s a -many branches on ivery side, but we don’t go into all; we go where we -know, and where we’re always sure to find somethink. I know a place -now where there’s more than two or three hundred weight of metal all -rusted together, and plenty of money among it too; but it’s too heavy -to carry it out, so it ’ill stop there I s’pose till the world comes -to an end. I often brought out a piece of metal half a hundred in -weight, and took it under the harch of the bridge, and broke it up with -a large stone to pick out the money. I’ve found sovereigns and half -sovereigns over and over ag’in, and three on us has often cleared a -couple of pound apiece in one day out of the sewers. But we no sooner -got the money than the publican had it. I only wish I’d back all the -money I’ve guv to the publican, and I wouldn’t care how the wind blew -for the rest of my life. I never thought about taking a hammer along -with me into the sewer, no; I never thought I’d want it. You can’t go -in every day, the tides don’t answer, and they’re so pertikler now, -far more pertikler than formerly; if you was known to touch the traps, -you’d git hauled up afore the beak. It’s done for all that, and though -there _is_ so many eyes about. The “Johnnys” on the water are always -on the look out, and if they sees any on us about, we has to cut our -lucky. We shore workers sometimes does very well other ways. When we -hears of a fire anywheres, we goes and watches where they shoots the -rubbish, and then we goes and sifts it over, and washes it afterwards, -then all the metal sinks to the bottom. The way we does it is this -here: we takes a barrel cut in half, and fills it with water, and then -we shovels in the siftings, and stirs ’em round and round and round -with a stick; then we throws out that water and puts in some fresh, and -stirs that there round ag’in; arter some time the water gets clear, -and every thing heavy’s fell to the bottom, and then we sees what it -is and picks it out. I’ve made from a pound to thirty shilling a day, -at that there work on lead alone. The time the Parliament Houses was -burnt, the rubbish was shot in Hyde Park, and Long J---- and I goes -to work it, and while we were at it, we didn’t make less nor three -pounds apiece a day; we found sovereigns and half sovereigns, and lots -of silver half melted away, and jewellery, such as rings, and stones, -and brooches; but we never got half paid for them. I found two sets -of bracelets for a lady’s arms, and took ’em to a jeweller, and he -tried them jist where the “great” heat had melted the catch away, and -found they was only metal double plated, or else he said as how he’d -give us thirty pounds for them; howsomever, we takes them down to a -Jew in Petticoat-lane, who used to buy things of us, and he gives us -7_l._ 10_s._ for ’em. We found so many things, that at last Long J---- -and I got to quarrel about the “whacking;” there was cheatin’ a goin’ -on; it wasn’t all fair and above board as it ought to be, so we gits -to fightin’, and kicks up sich a jolly row, that they wouldn’t let us -work no more, and takes and buries the whole on the rubbish. There’s -plenty o’ things under the ground along with it now, if anybody could -git at them. There was jist two loads o’ rubbish shot at one time in -Bishop Bonner’s-fields, which I worked by myself, and what do you think -I made out of that there?--why I made 3_l._ 5_s._ The rubbish was got -out of a cellar, what hadn’t been stirred for fifty year or more, so I -thinks there ought to be somethink in it, and I keeps my eye on it, and -watches where it’s shot; then I turns to work, and the first thing I -gits hold on is a chain, which I takes to be copper; it was so dirty, -but it turned out to be all solid goold, and I gets 1_l._ 5_s._ for it -from the Jew; arter that I finds lots o’ coppers, and silver money, and -many things besides. _The reason I likes this sort of life is, ’cause -I can sit down when I likes, and nobody can’t order me about. When I’m -hard up, I knows as how I must work, and then I goes at it like sticks -a breaking_; and tho’ the times isn’t as they was, I can go now and -pick up my four or five bob a day, where another wouldn’t know how to -get a brass farden.” - -There is a strange tale in existence among the shore-workers, of -a race of wild hogs inhabiting the sewers in the neighbourhood of -Hampstead. The story runs, that a sow in young, by some accident got -down the sewer through an opening, and, wandering away from the spot, -littered and reared her offspring in the drain, feeding on the offal -and garbage washed into it continually. Here, it is alleged, the breed -multiplied exceedingly, and have become almost as ferocious as they -are numerous. This story, apocryphal as it seems, has nevertheless -its believers, and it is ingeniously argued, that the reason why none -of the subterranean animals have been able to make their way to the -light of day is, that they could only do so by reaching the mouth of -the sewer at the river-side, while, in order to arrive at that point, -they must necessarily encounter the Fleet ditch, which runs towards the -river with great rapidity, and as it is the obstinate nature of a pig -to swim _against_ the stream, the wild hogs of the sewers invariably -work their way back to their original quarters, and are thus never to -be seen. What seems strange in the matter is, that the inhabitants -of Hampstead never have been known to see any of these animals pass -beneath the gratings, nor to have been disturbed by their gruntings. -The reader of course can believe as much of the story as he pleases, -and it is right to inform him that the sewer-hunters themselves have -never yet encountered any of the fabulous monsters of the Hampstead -sewers. - - -OF THE MUD-LARKS. - -There is another class who may be termed river-finders, although their -occupation is connected only with the shore; they are commonly known by -the name of “mud-larks,” from being compelled, in order to obtain the -articles they seek, to wade sometimes up to their middle through the -mud left on the shore by the retiring tide. These poor creatures are -certainly about the most deplorable in their appearance of any I have -met with in the course of my inquiries. They may be seen of all ages, -from mere childhood to positive decrepitude, crawling among the barges -at the various wharfs along the river; it cannot be said that they -are clad in rags, for they are scarcely half covered by the tattered -indescribable things that serve them for clothing; their bodies are -grimed with the foul soil of the river, and their torn garments -stiffened up like boards with dirt of every possible description. - -Among the mud-larks may be seen many old women, and it is indeed -pitiable to behold them, especially during the winter, bent nearly -double with age and infirmity, paddling and groping among the wet mud -for small pieces of coal, chips of wood, or any sort of refuse washed -up by the tide. These women always have with them an old basket or -an old tin kettle, in which they put whatever they chance to find. -It usually takes them a whole tide to fill this receptacle, but when -filled, it is as much as the feeble old creatures are able to carry -home. - -[Illustration: THE MUD-LARK. - -[_From a Daguerreotype by_ BEARD.]] - -The mud-larks generally live in some court or alley in the -neighbourhood of the river, and, as the tide recedes, crowds of -boys and little girls, some old men, and many old women, may be -observed loitering about the various stairs, watching eagerly for the -opportunity to commence their labours. When the tide is sufficiently -low they scatter themselves along the shore, separating from each -other, and soon disappear among the craft lying about in every -direction. This is the case on both sides of the river, as high up as -there is anything to be found, extending as far as Vauxhall-bridge, -and as low down as Woolwich. The mud-larks themselves, however, know -only those who reside near them, and whom they are accustomed to meet -in their daily pursuits; indeed, with but few exceptions, these people -are dull, and apparently stupid; this is observable particularly among -the boys and girls, who, when engaged in searching the mud, hold but -little converse one with another. The men and women may be passed and -repassed, but they notice no one; they never speak, but with a stolid -look of wretchedness they plash their way through the mire, their -bodies bent down while they peer anxiously about, and occasionally -stoop to pick up some paltry treasure that falls in their way. - -The mud-larks collect whatever they happen to find, such as coals, -bits of old-iron, rope, bones, and copper nails that drop from ships -while lying or repairing along shore. Copper nails are the most -valuable of all the articles they find, but these they seldom obtain, -as they are always driven from the neighbourhood of a ship while being -new-sheathed. Sometimes the younger and bolder mud-larks venture on -sweeping some empty coal-barge, and one little fellow with whom I -spoke, having been lately caught in the act of so doing, had to undergo -for the offence seven days’ imprisonment in the House of Correction: -this, he says, he liked much better than mud-larking, for while he -staid there he wore a coat and shoes and stockings, and though he had -not over much to eat, he certainly was never afraid of going to bed -without anything at all--as he often had to do when at liberty. He -thought he would try it on again in the winter, he told me, saying, it -would be so comfortable to have clothes and shoes and stockings then, -and not be obliged to go into the cold wet mud of a morning. - -The coals that the mud-larks find, they sell to the poor people of the -neighbourhood at 1_d._ per pot, holding about 14 lbs. The iron and -bones and rope and copper nails which they collect, they sell at the -rag-shops. They dispose of the iron at 5 lbs. for 1_d._, the bones at -3 lbs. a 1_d._, rope a 1/2_d._ per lb. wet, and 3/4_d._ per lb. dry, -and copper nails at the rate of 4_d._ per lb. They occasionally pick up -tools, such as saws and hammers; these they dispose of to the seamen -for biscuit and meat, and sometimes sell them at the rag-shops for a -few halfpence. In this manner they earn from 2-1/2_d._ to 8_d._ per -day, but rarely the latter sum; their average gains may be estimated -at about 3_d._ per day. The boys, after leaving the river, sometimes -scrape their trousers, and frequent the cab-stands, and try to earn a -trifle by opening the cab-doors for those who enter them, or by holding -gentlemen’s horses. Some of them go, in the evening, to a ragged -school, in the neighbourhood of which they live; more, as they say, -because other boys go there, than from any desire to learn. - -At one of the stairs in the neighbourhood of the pool, I collected -about a dozen of these unfortunate children; there was not one of -them over twelve years of age, and many of them were but six. It -would be almost impossible to describe the wretched group, so motley -was their appearance, so extraordinary their dress, and so stolid and -inexpressive their countenances. Some carried baskets, filled with the -produce of their morning’s work, and others old tin kettles with iron -handles. Some, for want of these articles, had old hats filled with -the bones and coals they had picked up; and others, more needy still, -had actually taken the caps from their own heads, and filled them with -what they had happened to find. The muddy slush was dripping from their -clothes and utensils, and forming a puddle in which they stood. There -did not appear to be among the whole group as many filthy cotton rags -to their backs as, when stitched together, would have been sufficient -to form the material of one shirt. There were the remnants of one or -two jackets among them, but so begrimed and tattered that it would -have been difficult to have determined either the original material -or make of the garment. On questioning one, he said his father was -a coal-backer; he had been dead eight years; the boy was nine years -old. His mother was alive; she went out charing and washing when she -could get any such work to do. She had 1_s._ a day when she could get -employment, but that was not often; he remembered once to have had -a pair of shoes, but it was a long time since. “It is very cold in -winter,” he said, “to stand in the mud without shoes,” but he did not -mind it in summer. He had been three years mud-larking, and supposed he -should remain a mud-lark all his life. What else could he be? for there -was nothing else that he knew _how_ to do. Some days he earned 1_d._, -and some days 4_d._; he never earned 8_d._ in one day, that would have -been a “jolly lot of money.” He never found a saw or a hammer, he -“only wished” he could, they would be glad to get hold of them at the -dolly’s. He had been one month at school before he went mud-larking. -Some time ago he had gone to the ragged-school; but he no longer went -there, for he forgot it. He could neither read nor write, and did not -think he could learn if he tried “ever so much.” He didn’t know what -religion his father and mother were, nor did know what religion meant. -God was God, he said. He had heard he was good, but didn’t know what -good he was to him. He thought he was a Christian, but he didn’t know -what a Christian was. He had heard of Jesus Christ once, when he went -to a Catholic chapel, but he never heard tell of who or what he was, -and didn’t “particular care” about knowing. His father and mother were -born in Aberdeen, but he didn’t know where Aberdeen was. London was -England, and England, he said, was in London, but he couldn’t tell in -what part. He could not tell where he would go to when he died, and -didn’t believe any one could tell _that_. Prayers, he told me, were -what people said to themselves at night. _He_ never said any, and -didn’t know any; his mother sometimes used to speak to him about them, -but he could never learn any. His mother didn’t go to church or to -chapel, because she had no clothes. All the money he got he gave to -his mother, and she bought bread with it, and when they had no money -they lived the best way they could. - -Such was the amount of intelligence manifested by this unfortunate -child. - -Another was only seven years old. He stated that his father was a -sailor who had been hurt on board ship, and been unable to go to sea -for the last two years. He had two brothers and a sister, one of them -older than himself; and his elder brother was a mud-lark like himself. -The two had been mud-larking more than a year; they went because they -saw other boys go, and knew that they got money for the things they -found. They were often hungry, and glad to do anything to get something -to eat. Their father was not able to earn anything, and their mother -could get but little to do. They gave all the money they earned to -their mother. They didn’t gamble, and play at pitch and toss when they -had got some money, but some of the big boys did on the Sunday, when -they didn’t go a mud-larking. He couldn’t tell why they did nothing on -a Sunday, “only they didn’t;” though sometimes they looked about to -see where the best place would be on the next day. He didn’t go to the -ragged school; he should like to know how to read a book, though he -couldn’t tell what good it would do him. He didn’t like mud larking, -would be glad of something else, but didn’t know anything else that he -could do. - -Another of the boys was the son of a dock labourer,--casually employed. -He was between seven and eight years of age, and his sister, who was -also a mud-lark, formed one of the group. The mother of these two was -dead, and there were three children younger than themselves. - -The rest of the histories may easily be imagined, for there was a -painful uniformity in the stories of all the children: they were either -the children of the very poor, who, by their own improvidence or some -overwhelming calamity, had been reduced to the extremity of distress, -or else they were orphans, and compelled from utter destitution to seek -for the means of appeasing their hunger in the mud of the river. That -the majority of this class are ignorant, and without even the rudiments -of education, and that many of them from time to time are committed to -prison for petty thefts, cannot be wondered at. Nor can it even excite -our astonishment that, once within the walls of a prison, and finding -how much more comfortable it is than their previous condition, they -should return to it repeatedly. As for the females growing up under -such circumstances, the worst may be anticipated of them; and in proof -of this I have found, upon inquiry, that very many of the unfortunate -creatures who swell the tide of prostitution in Ratcliff-highway, and -other low neighbourhoods in the East of London, have originally been -mud-larks; and only remained at that occupation till such time as they -were capable of adopting the more easy and more lucrative life of the -prostitute. - -As to the numbers and earnings of the mud-larks, the following -calculations fall short of, rather than exceed, the truth. From -Execution Dock to the lower part of Limehouse Hole, there are 14 stairs -or landing-places, by which the mud-larks descend to the shore in order -to pursue their employment. There are about as many on the opposite -side of the water similarly frequented. - -At King James’ Stairs, in Wapping Wall, which is nearly a central -position, from 40 to 50 mud-larks go down daily to the river; the -mud-larks “using” the other stairs are not so numerous. If, therefore, -we reckon the number of stairs on both sides of the river at 28, -and the average number of mud-larks frequenting them at 10 each, we -shall have a total of 280. Each mud-lark, it has been shown, earns on -an average 3_d._ a day, or 1_s._ 6_d._ per week; so that the annual -earnings of each will be 3_l._ 18_s._, or say 4_l._, a year, and hence -the gross earnings of the 280 will amount to rather more than 1000_l._ -per annum. - -But there are, in addition to the mud-larks employed in the -neighbourhood of what may be called the pool, many others who work down -the river at various places as far as Blackwall, on the one side, and -at Deptford, Greenwich, and Woolwich, on the other. These frequent the -neighbourhoods of the various “yards” along shore, where vessels are -being built; and whence, at certain times, chips, small pieces of wood, -bits of iron, and copper nails, are washed out into the river. There -is but little doubt that this portion of the class earn much more than -the mud-larks of the pool, seeing that they are especially convenient -to the places where the iron vessels are constructed; so that the -presumption is, that the number of mud-larks “at work” on the banks -of the Thames (especially if we include those above bridge), and the -value of the property extracted by them from the mud of the river, may -be fairly estimated at double that which is stated above, or say 550 -gaining 2000_l._ per annum. - -As an illustration of the doctrines I have endeavoured to enforce -throughout this publication, I cite the following history of one of the -above class. It may serve to teach those who are still sceptical as to -the degrading influence of circumstances upon the poor, that many of -the humbler classes, if placed in the same easy position as ourselves, -would become, perhaps, quite as “respectable” members of society. - -The lad of whom I speak was discovered by me now nearly two years ago -“mud-larking” on the banks of the river near the docks. He was a quick, -intelligent little fellow, and had been at the business, he told me, -about three years. He had taken to mud-larking, he said, because his -clothes were too bad for him to look for anything better. He worked -every day, with 20 or 30 boys, who might all be seen at daybreak with -their trowsers tucked up, groping about, and picking out the pieces of -coal from the mud on the banks of the Thames. He went into the river -up to his knees, and in searching the mud he often ran pieces of glass -and long nails into his feet. When this was the case, he went home and -dressed the wounds, but returned to the river-side directly, “for -should the tide come up,” he added, “without my having found something, -why I must starve till next low tide.” In the very cold weather he and -his other shoeless companions used to stand in the hot water that ran -down the river side from some of the steam-factories, to warm their -frozen feet. - -At first he found it difficult to keep his footing in the mud, and he -had known many beginners fall in. He came to my house, at my request, -the morning after my first meeting with him. It was the depth of -winter, and the poor little fellow was nearly destitute of clothing. -His trousers were worn away up to his knees, he had no shirt, and his -legs and feet (which were bare) were covered with chilblains. On being -questioned by me he gave the following account of his life:-- - -He was fourteen years old. He had two sisters, one fifteen and the -other twelve years of age. His father had been dead nine years. The man -had been a coal-whipper, and, from getting his work from one of the -publican employers in those days, had become a confirmed drunkard. When -he married he held a situation in a warehouse, where his wife managed -the first year to save 4_l._ 10_s._ out of her husband’s earnings; -but from the day he took to coal-whipping she had never saved one -halfpenny, indeed she and her children were often left to starve. The -man (whilst in a state of intoxication) had fallen between two barges, -and the injuries he received had been so severe that he had lingered in -a helpless state for three years before his death. After her husband’s -decease the poor woman’s neighbours subscribed 1_l._ 5_s._ for her; -with this sum she opened a greengrocer’s shop, and got on very well for -five years. - -When the boy was nine years old his mother sent him to the Red Lion -school at Green-bank, near Old Gravel-lane, Ratcliffe-highway; she -paid 1_d._ a week for his learning. He remained there for a year; then -the potato-rot came, and his mother lost upon all she bought. About -the same time two of her customers died 30_s._ in her debt; this loss, -together with the potato-disease, completely ruined her, and the whole -family had been in the greatest poverty from that period. Then she was -obliged to take all her children from their school, that they might -help to keep themselves as best they could. Her eldest girl sold fish -in the streets, and the boy went to the river-side to “pick up” his -living. The change, however, was so great that shortly afterwards the -little fellow lay ill eighteen weeks with the ague. As soon as the boy -recovered his mother and his two sisters were “taken bad” with a fever. -The poor woman went into the “Great House,” and the children were taken -to the Fever Hospital. When the mother returned home she was too weak -to work, and all she had to depend on was what her boy brought from the -river. They had nothing to eat and no money until the little fellow -had been down to the shore and picked up some coals, selling them for -a trifle. “And hard enough he had to work for what he got, poor boy,” -said his mother to me on a future occasion, sobbing; “still he never -complained, but was quite proud when he brought home enough for us to -get a bit of meat with; and when he has sometimes seen me down-hearted, -he has clung round my neck, and assured me that one day God would see -us cared for if I would put my trust in Him.” As soon as his mother was -well enough she sold fruit in the streets, or went out washing when she -could get a day’s work. - -The lad suffered much from the pieces of broken glass in the mud. Some -little time before I met with him he had run a copper nail into his -foot. This lamed him for three months, and his mother was obliged to -carry him on her back every morning to the doctor. As soon, however, -as he could “hobble” (to use his mother’s own words) he went back to -the river, and often returned (after many hours’ hard work in the mud) -with only a few pieces of coal, not enough to sell even to get them a -bit of bread. One evening, as he was warming his feet in the water that -ran from a steam factory, he heard some boys talking about the Ragged -School in High-street, Wapping. - -“They was saying what they used to learn there,” added the boy. “They -asked me to come along with them for it was great fun. They told me -that all the boys used to be laughing and making game of the master. -They said they used to put out the gas and chuck the slates all about. -They told me, too, that there was a good fire there, so I went to have -a warm and see what it was like. When I got there the master was very -kind to me. They used to give us tea-parties, and to keep us quiet they -used to show us the magic lantern. I soon got to like going there, and -went every night for six months. There was about 40 or 50 boys in the -school. The most of them was thieves, and they used to go thieving -the coals out of barges along shore, and cutting the ropes off ships, -and going and selling it at the rag-shops. They used to get 3/4_d._ a -lb. for the rope when dry, and 1/2_d._ when wet. Some used to steal -pudding out of shops and hand it to those outside, and the last boy -it was handed to would go off with it. They used to steal bacon and -bread sometimes as well. About half of the boys at the school was -thieves. Some had work to do at ironmongers, lead-factories, engineers, -soap-boilers, and so on, and some had no work to do and was good boys -still. After we came out of school at nine o’clock at night, some of -the bad boys would go a thieving, perhaps half-a-dozen and from that -to eight would go out in a gang together. There was one big boy of the -name of C----; he was 18 years old, and is in prison now for stealing -bacon; I think he is in the House of Correction. This C---- used to go -out of school before any of us, and wait outside the door as the other -boys came out. Then he would call the boys he wanted for his gangs on -one side, and tell them where to go and steal. He used to look out in -the daytime for shops where things could be ‘prigged,’ and at night he -would tell the boys to go to them. He was called the captain of the -gangs. He had about three gangs altogether with him, and there were -from six to eight boys in each gang. The boys used to bring what they -stole to C----, and he used to share it with them. I belonged to one of -the gangs. There were six boys altogether in my gang; the biggest lad, -that knowed all about the thieving, was the captain of the gang I was -in, and C---- was captain over him and over all of us. - -“There was two brothers of them; you seed them, sir, the night you -first met me. The other boys, as was in my gang, was B---- B----, and -B---- L----, and W---- B----, and a boy we used to call ‘Tim;’ these, -with myself, used to make up one of the gangs, and we all of us used -to go a thieving every night after school-hours. When the tide would -be right up, and we had nothing to do along shore, we used to go -thieving in the daytime as well. It was B---- B----, and B---- L----, -as first put me up to go thieving; they took me with them, one night, -up the lane [New Gravel-lane], and I see them take some bread out of a -baker’s, and they wasn’t found out; and, after that, I used to go with -them regular. Then I joined C----’s gang; and, after that, C---- came -and told us that his gang could do better than ourn, and he asked us -to join our gang to his’n, and we did so. Sometimes we used to make -3_s._ or 4_s._ a day; or about 6_d._ apiece. While waiting outside the -school-doors, before they opened, we used to plan up where we would go -thieving after school was over. I was taken up once for thieving coals -myself, but I was let go again.” - -I was so much struck with the boy’s truthfulness of manner, that I -asked him, _would_, he really lead a different life, if he saw a -means of so doing? He assured me he would, and begged me earnestly to -try him. Upon his leaving me, 2_s._ were given him for his trouble. -This small sum (I afterwards learned) kept the family for more than a -fortnight. The girl laid it out in sprats (it being then winter-time); -these she sold in the streets. - -I mentioned the fact to a literary friend, who interested himself -in the boy’s welfare; and eventually succeeded in procuring him a -situation at an eminent printer’s. The subjoined letter will show how -the lad conducted himself while there. - - “Whitefriars, April 22, 1850. - - “Messrs. Bradbury and Evans beg to say that the boy J. C. has - conducted himself in a very satisfactory manner since he has been in - their employment.” - -The same literary friend took the girl into his service. She is in a -situation still, though not in the same family. - -The boy now holds a good situation at one of the daily newspaper -offices. So well has he behaved himself, that, a few weeks since, his -wages were increased from 6_s._ to 9_s._ per week. His mother (owing to -the boy’s exertions) has now a little shop, and is doing well. - -This simple story requires no comments, and is narrated here in the -hope that it may teach many to know how often the poor boys reared -in the gutter are thieves, merely because society forbids them being -honest lads. - - -OF THE LONDON DUSTMEN, NIGHTMEN, SWEEPS, AND SCAVENGERS. - -These men constitute a large body, and are a class who, all things -considered, do their work silently and efficiently. Almost without the -cognisance of the mass of the people, the refuse is removed from our -streets and houses; and London, as if in the care of a tidy housewife, -is _always_ being cleaned. Great as are the faults and absurdities -of many parts of our system of public cleansing, nevertheless, when -compared with the state of things in any continental capital, the -superiority of the metropolis of Great Britain is indisputable. - -In all this matter there is little merit to be attributed to the -workmen, except that they may be well drilled; for the majority of them -are as much machines, apart from their animation, as are the cane and -whalebone made to cleanse the chimney, or the clumsy-looking machine -which, in its progress, is a vehicular scavenger, sweeping as it goes. - -These public cleansers are to be thus classified:-- - -1. Dustmen, or those who empty and remove the collection of ashes, -bones, vegetables, &c., deposited in the dust-bins, or other refuse -receptacles throughout the metropolis. - -2. Nightmen, or those who remove the contents of the cesspools. - -3. Sweeps, or those who remove the soot from the chimneys. - -4. Scavengers, or those who remove the dirt from the streets, roads, -and markets. - -Let me, however, before proceeding further with the subject, lay -before the reader the following important return as to the extent and -contents of this prodigious city: for this document I am indebted to -the Commissioners of Police, gentlemen from whom I have derived the -most valuable information since the commencement of my inquiries, and -to whose courtesy and consideration I am anxious to acknowledge my many -obligations. - -RETURN SHOWING THE EXTENT, POPULATION, AND POLICE FORCE IN THE -METROPOLITAN POLICE DISTRICT AND THE CITY OF LONDON IN SEPTEMBER, 1850. - - -----------------------------------------+---------------------------------------+------------+------------- - | Metropolitan Police District[6]. | | - +------------+-----------+--------------+ City of | Grand - | Inner | Outer | | London[8]. | Total. - |District[7].| District. | Total. | | - -----------------------------------------+------------+-----------+--------------+------------+------------- - Area (in square miles) | 91 | 609-1/2| 700-1/2 | 1-3/4 | 702-1/4 - Parishes | 82 | 136 | 218 | 97 | 315 - Streets, Roads, &c. (length of, in miles)| 1,700 | 1,936 | 3,636 | 50 | 3,686 - Number of Houses inhabited | 289,912 | 59,995 | 349,907 | 15,613 | 365,520 - „ „ uninhabited | 11,868 | 1,437 | 13,305 | 387 | 13,692 - „ „ being built | 4,634 | 1,097 | 5,731 | 23 | 5,754 - Population | 1,986,629 |350,331 |2,336,960 |125,000 |2,461,960 - Police Force | 4,844 | 660 | 5,504 | 568 | 6,072 - -----------------------------------------+------------+-----------+--------------+------------+---------- - -_18th September, 1850._ - -The total here given can hardly be considered as the dimensions of the -metropolis; though, where the capital begins and ends, it is difficult -to say. If, however, London be regarded as concentring within the -Inner Police District, then, adding the extent and contents of that -district to those of the City, as above detailed, we have the subjoined -statement as to the dimensions and inhabitants of the - - -_Metropolis Proper._ - - Area 92-3/4 square miles. - Parishes 179 - Length of street, roads, &c. 1750 miles. - Number of inhabited houses 305,525 - Ditto uninhabited 12,255 - Ditto being built 4657 - Population 2,111,629 - Police force 5412 - -But if the extent of even this “inner district” be so vast as almost -to overpower the mind with its magnitude--if its population be greater -than that of the entire kingdom of Hanover, and almost equal to that of -the republic of Switzerland--if its houses be so numerous that placed -side by side they would form one continuous line of dwellings from its -centre to Moscow--if its streets and roads be nearly equal in length to -one quarter of the diameter of the earth itself,--what a task must the -cleansing of such a bricken wilderness be, and yet, assuredly, though -it be by far the greatest, it is at the same time by far the cleanest -city in the world. - -The removal of the refuse of a large town is, perhaps, one of the -most important of social operations. Not only is it necessary for the -well-being of a vast aggregation of people that the ordure should be -removed from both within and around their dwellings as soon as it is -generated, but nature, ever working in a circle and reproducing in the -same ratio as she destroys, has made this same ordure not only the -cause of present disease when allowed to remain within the city, but -the means of future health and sustenance when removed to the fields. - -In a leading article in the _Morning Chronicle_, written about two -years since, I said-- - -“That man gets his bones from the rocks and his muscles from the -atmosphere, is beyond all doubt. The iron in his blood and the lime in -his teeth were originally in the soil. But these could not be in his -body unless they had previously formed part of his food. And yet we can -neither live on air nor on stones. We cannot grow fat upon lime, and -iron is positively indigestible in our stomachs. It is by means of the -vegetable creation alone that we are enabled to convert the mineral -into flesh and blood. The only apparent use of herbs and plants is to -change the inorganic earth, air, and water, into organic substances -fitted for the nutrition of animals. The little lichen, which, by means -of the oxalic acid that it secretes, decomposes the rocks to which it -clings, and fits their lime for ‘assimilation’ with higher organisms, -is, as it were, but the primitive bone-maker of the world. By what -subtle transmutation inorganic nature is changed into organic, and dead -inert matter quickened with life, is far beyond us even to conjecture. -Suffice it that an express apparatus is required for the process--a -special mechanism to convert the ‘_crust_ of the earth,’ as it is -called, into food for man and beast. - -“Now, in Nature everything moves in a circle--perpetually changing, -and yet ever returning to the point whence it started. Our bodies are -continually decomposing and recomposing--indeed, the very process of -breathing is but one of decomposition. As animals live on vegetables, -even so is the refuse of the animal the vegetable’s food. The carbonic -acid which comes from our lungs, and which is poison for us to inhale, -is not only the vital air of plants, but positively their nutriment. -With the same wondrous economy that marks all creation, it has been -ordained that what is unfitted for the support of the superior -organisms, is of all substances the best adapted to give strength and -vigour to the inferior. That which we excrete as pollution to our -system, they secrete as nourishment to theirs. Plants are not only -Nature’s scavengers but Nature’s purifiers. They remove the filth -from the earth, as well as disinfect the atmosphere, and fit it to be -breathed by a higher order of beings. Without the vegetable creation -the animal could neither have been nor be. Plants not only fitted the -earth originally for the residence of man and the brute, but to this -day they continue to render it habitable to us. For this end their -nature has been made the very antithesis to ours. The process by which -we live is the process by which they are destroyed. That which supports -respiration in us produces putrefaction in them. What our lungs throw -off, their lungs absorb--what our bodies reject, their roots imbibe. - -“Hence, in order that the balance of waste and supply should be -maintained--that the principle of universal compensation should be kept -up, and that what is rejected by us should go to the sustenance of -plants, Nature has given us several instinctive motives to remove our -refuse from us. She has not only constituted that which we egest the -most loathsome of all things to our senses and imagination, but she has -rendered its effluvium highly pernicious to our health--sulphuretted -hydrogen being at once the most deleterious and offensive of all gases. -Consequently, as in all other cases where the great law of Nature has -to be enforced by special sanctions, a double motive has been given us -to do that which it is necessary for us to do, and thus it has been -made not only advantageous to us to remove our refuse to the fields, -but positively detrimental to our health, and disgusting to our senses, -to keep it in the neighbourhood of our houses. - -“In every well-regulated State, therefore, an effective and rapid -means for carrying off the ordure of the people to a locality where -it may be fruitful instead of destructive, becomes a most important -consideration. Both the health and the wealth of the nation depend upon -it. If to make two blades of wheat grow where one grew before is to -confer a benefit on the world, surely to remove that which will enable -us at once to do this, and to purify the very air which we breathe, -as well as the water which we drink, must be a still greater boon -to society. It is, in fact, to give the community not only a double -amount of food, but a double amount of health to enjoy it. We are now -beginning to understand this. Up to the present time we have only -thought of removing our refuse--the idea of using it never entered our -minds. It was not until science taught us the dependence of one order -of creation upon another, that we began to see that what appeared worse -than worthless to us was Nature’s capital--_wealth set aside for future -production_.” - -In connection with this part of the subject, viz., the use of human -refuse, I would here draw attention to those erroneous notions, as -to the multiplication of the people, which teach us to look upon the -increase of the population beyond certain limits as the greatest -possible evil that can befall a community. Population, it is said, -multiplies itself in a geometrical ratio, whereas the produce of the -land is increased only in arithmetical proportion; that is to say, -while the people are augmented after the rate of-- - - 2 4 8 16 32 64 - -the quantity of food for them can be extended only in the following -degrees:-- - - 2 4 6 8 10 12 - -The cause of this is said to be that, after a certain stage in the -cultivation of the soil, the increase of the produce from land is not -in proportion to the increase of labour devoted to it; that is to say, -doubling the labour does not double the crop; and hence it is asserted -that the human race increasing at a quicker rate than the food, -insufficient sustenance must be the necessary lot of a portion of the -people in every densely-populated community. - -That men of intelligence and education should have been persuaded by -so plausible a doctrine at the time of its first promulgation may be -readily conceived, for then the notions concerning organic chemistry -were vague in the extreme, and the great universal law of Waste -and Supply remained to be fully developed; but that men pretending -to the least scientific knowledge should in these days be found -advocating the Population Theory is only another of the many proofs -of the indisposition of even the strongest minds to abandon their pet -prejudices. Assuredly Malthus and Liebig are incompatible. If the new -notions as to the chemistry of vegetation be true, then must the old -notions as to population be utterly unfounded. If what we excrete -plants secrete--if what we exhale they inspire--if our refuse is their -food--then it follows that to increase the population is to increase -the quantity of manure, while to increase the manure is to augment -the food of plants, and consequently the plants themselves. If the -plants nourish us, we at least nourish them. It seems never to have -occurred to the economists that plants themselves required sustenance, -and consequently they never troubled themselves to inquire whence they -derived the elements of their growth. Had they done this they would -never have even expected that a double quantity of mere labour upon the -soil should have doubled the produce; but they would rather have seen -that it was utterly impossible for the produce to be doubled without -the food in the soil being doubled likewise; that is to say, they would -have perceived that plants could not, whatever the labour exerted upon -their cultivation, extract the elements of their organization from the -earth and air, unless those elements previously existed in the land and -atmosphere in which they grew, and that such elements, moreover, could -not exist there without some organic being to egest them. - -This doctrine of the universal Compensation extending throughout the -material world, and more especially through the animal and vegetable -kingdom, is, perhaps, one of the grandest and most consoling that -science has yet revealed to us, making each mutually dependent on the -other, and so contributing each to the other’s support. Moreover it is -the more comforting, as enabling us almost to demonstrate the falsity -of a creed which is opposed to every generous impulse of our nature, -and which is utterly irreconcilable with the attributes of the Creator. - -“Thanks to organic chemistry,” I said two years ago in the _Morning -Chronicle_, “we are beginning to wake up. Science has taught us that -the removal of the ordure of towns to the fields is a question that -concerns not only our health, but, what is a far more important -consideration with us, our breeches pockets. What we, in our ignorance, -had mistaken for refuse of the vilest kind, we have now learned to -regard as being, with reference to its fertilizing virtues, ‘a precious -ore, running in rich veins beneath the surface of our streets.’ -Whereas, if allowed to reek and seethe in cesspools within scent of -our very hearths, or to pollute the water that we use to quench our -thirst and cook our food, it becomes, like all wealth badly applied, -converted into ‘poison:’ as Romeo says of gold to the apothecary-- - - ‘Doing more murders in this loathsome world - Than those poor compounds which thou mayst not sell.’ - -“Formerly, in our eagerness to get rid of the pollution, we had -literally not looked beyond our noses: hence our only care was to carry -off the nuisance from the immediate vicinity of our own residences. -It was no matter to us what became of it, so long as it did not taint -the atmosphere around us. This the very instincts of our nature had -made objectionable to us; so we laid down just as many drains and -sewers as would carry our night-soil to the nearest stream; and thus, -instead of poisoning the air that we breathed, we poisoned the water -that we drank. Then, as the town extended--for cities, like mosaic -work, are put together piecemeal--street being dovetailed to street, -like county to county in our children’s geographical puzzles--each new -row of houses tailed on its drains to those of its neighbours, without -any inquiry being made as to whether they were on the same level or -not. The consequence of this is, that the sewers in many parts of our -metropolis are subject to an ebb and flood like their central stream, -so that the pollution which they remove at low-water, they regularly -bring back at high-water to the very doors of the houses whence they -carried it. - -“According to the average of the returns, from 1841 to 1846, we -are paying two millions every year for guano, bone-dust, and other -foreign fertilizers of our soil. In 1845, we employed no fewer than -683 ships to bring home 220,000 tons of animal manure from Ichaboe -alone; and yet we are every day emptying into the Thames 115,000 tons -of a substance which has been proved to be possessed of even greater -fertilizing powers. With 200 tons of the sewage that we are wont to -regard as refuse, applied to the irrigation of one acre of meadow -land, seven crops, we are told, have been produced in the year, each -of them worth from 6_l._ to 7_l._; so that, considering the produce to -have been doubled by these means, we have an increase of upwards of -20_l._ per acre per annum effected by the application of that refuse -to the surface of our fields. This return is at the rate of 10_l._ -for every 100 tons of sewage; and, since the total amount of refuse -discharged into the Thames from the sewers of the metropolis is, in -round numbers, 40,000,000 tons per annum, it follows that, according to -such estimate, we are positively wasting 4,000,000_l._ of money every -year; or, rather, _it costs us that amount to poison the waters about -us_. Or, granting that the fertilizing power of the metropolitan refuse -is--as it is said to be--as great for arable as for pasture-lands, -then for every 200 tons of manure that we now cast away, we might have -an increase of at least 20 bushels of corn per acre. Consequently -the entire 40,000,000 tons of sewage, if applied to fatten the land -instead of to poison the water, would, at such a rate of increase, -swell our produce to the extent of 4,000,000 bushels of wheat per -annum. Calculating then that each of these bushels would yield 16 -quartern loaves, it would follow that we fling into the Thames no less -than 246,000,000 lbs. of bread every year; or, still worse, by pouring -into the river that which, if spread upon our fields, would enable -thousands to live, we convert the elements of life and health into the -germs of disease and death, changing into slow but certain poisons that -which, in the subtle transmutation of organic nature, would become -acres of life-sustaining grain.” I shall have more to say subsequently -on this waste and its consequences. - -These considerations show how vastly important it is that in the best -of all possible ways we should _collect_, _remove_, and _use_ the -scavengery and excrementitious matter of our streets and houses. - -Now the removal of the refuse of London is no slight task, consisting, -as it does, of the cleansing of 1750 miles of streets and roads; of -collecting the dust from 300,000 dust-bins; of emptying (according to -the returns of the Board of Health) the same number of cesspools, and -sweeping near upon 3,000,000 chimneys. - -A task so vast it might naturally be imagined would give employment to -a number of hands, and yet, if we trusted the returns of the Occupation -Abstract of 1841, the whole of these stupendous operations are -performed by a limited number of individuals. - - -RETURN OF THE NUMBER OF SWEEPS, DUSTMEN, AND NIGHTMEN IN THE -METROPOLIS, ACCORDING TO THE CENSUS OF 1841. - - ------------------------+------+----------------------+---------------------- - | | Males. | Females. - | +------------+---------+------------+--------- - |Total.|20 years and| |20 years and| - | | upwards. |Under 20.| upwards. |Under 20. - ------------------------+------+------------+---------+------------+--------- - Chimney Sweepers | 1033 | 619 | 370 | 44 | - Scavengers and Nightmen | 254 | 227 | 10 | 17 | - ------------------------+------+------------+---------+------------+--------- - -I am informed by persons in the trade that the “females” here -mentioned as chimney-sweepers, and scavengers, and nightmen, must be -such widows or daughters of sweeps and nightmen as have succeeded to -their businesses, for that no women _work_ at such trades; excepting, -perhaps, in the management and care of the soot, in assisting to empty -and fill the bags. Many females, however, are employed in sifting dust, -but the calling of the dustman and dustwoman is not so much as noticed -in the population returns. - -According to the occupation abstract of the previous decennial period, -the number of males of 20 years and upwards (for none others were -mentioned) pursuing the same callings in the metropolis in 1831, were -as follows:-- - - Soot and chimney-sweepers 421 - Nightmen and scavengers 130 - -Hence the increase in the adult male operatives belonging to these -trades, between 1831 and 1841, was, for Chimney-sweeps, 198; and -Scavengers and Nightmen, 97. - -But these returns are preposterously incorrect. In the first place -it was not until 1842 that the parliamentary enactment prohibiting -the further employment of climbing-boys for the purpose of sweeping -chimneys came into operation. At that time the number of inhabited -houses in the metropolis was in round numbers 250,000, and calculating -these to have contained only eight rooms each, there would have been at -the least 2,000,000 chimneys to sweep. Now, according to the government -returns above cited--the London climbing-boys (for the masters did not -and could not climb) in 1841 numbered only 370; at which rate there -would have been but one boy to no less than 5400 chimneys! Pursuing -the same mode of testing the validity of the “official” statements, we -find, as the nightmen generally work in gangs of four, that each of -the 63, or say 64, gangs comprised in the census returns, would have -had 4000 cesspools to empty of their contents; while, working both -as scavengers and nightmen (for, according to the census, they were -the _only_ individuals following those occupations in London), they -would after their nocturnal labours have had about 27 miles of streets -and roads to cleanse--a feat which would certainly have thrown the -scavengering prowess of Hercules into the shade. - -Under the respective heads of the dustmen, nightmen, sweeps, and -scavengers, I shall give an account of the numbers, &c., employed, and -a resumé of the whole. It will be sufficient here to mention that my -investigations lead to the conclusion that, of men working as dustmen -(a portion of whom are employed as nightmen and scavengers) there are -at present about 1800 in the metropolis. The census of 1841, as I have -pointed out, mentions no dustman whatever! - -But I have so often had instances of the defects of this national -numbering of the people that I have long since ceased to place much -faith in its returns connected with the humbler grades of labour. The -costermongers, for example, I estimate at about 10,000, whereas the -government reports, as has been before mentioned, ignore the very -existence of such a class of people, and make the entire hawkers, -hucksters, and pedlars of the metropolis to amount to no more than -2045. Again, the London “coal labourers, heavers, and porters” are -said, in the census of 1841, to be only 1700 in number; I find, -however, that there are no less than 1800 “registered” coal-whippers, -and as many coal porters; so that I am in no way inclined to give great -credence to the “official enumerations.” The difficulties which beset -the perfection of such a document are almost insuperable, and I have -already heard of returns for the forthcoming document, made by ignorant -people as to their occupations, which already go far to nullify the -facts in connection with the employment of the ignorant and profligate -classes of the metropolis. - -Before quitting this part of the subject, viz., the extent of surface, -the length of streets, and the number of houses throughout the -metropolis requiring to be continually cleansed of their refuse, as -well as the number of people as continually engaged in so cleansing -them, let me here append the last returns of the Registrar General, -copied from the census of 1851, as to the dimensions and contents of -the metropolis according to that functionary, so that they may be -compared with those of the metropolitan police before given. - -In Weale’s “_London Exhibited_,” which is by far the most comprehensive -description of the metropolis that I have seen, it is stated that it -is “only possible to adopt a general idea of the giant city,” as its -precise boundaries and extent cannot be defined. On the north of the -Thames, we are told, London extends to Edmonton and Finchley; on the -west it stretches to Acton and Hammersmith; on the east it reaches -Leyton and Ham; while on the south of the Thames the metropolis is said -to embrace Wandsworth, Streatham, Lewisham, Woolwich, and Plumstead. -“To each of these points,” says Mr. Weale, but upon what authority he -does not inform us, “continuous streets of houses reach; but the solid -mass of houses lies within narrow bounds--with these several long -arms extending from it. The greatest length of street, from east to -west,” he adds, “is about fourteen miles, and from north to south about -thirteen miles. The solid mass is about seven miles by four miles, so -that the ground covered with houses is not less than 20 square miles.” - -Mr. McCulloch, in his “_London in 1850-51_,” has a passage to the -same effect. He says, “The continued and rapid increase of buildings -renders it difficult to ascertain the extent of the metropolis at any -particular period. If we include in it those parts only that present -a solid mass of houses, its length from east to west may be taken at -six miles, and its breadth from north to south at about three miles -and a half. There is, however, a nearly continuous line of houses -from Blackwall to Chelsea, a distance of about seven miles, and from -Walworth to Holloway, of four and a half miles. The extent of surface -covered by buildings is estimated at about sixteen square miles, or -above 10,000 acres, so that M. Say, the celebrated French economist, -did not really indulge in hyperbole when he said, ‘_Londres n’est plus -une ville: c’est une province couverte de maisons!_’ (London is no -longer a town: it is a province covered with houses).” - -The Government authorities, however, appear to have very different -notions from either of the above gentlemen as to the extent of the -metropolis. - -The limits of London, as at present laid down by the Registrar General, -include 176 parishes, besides several precincts, liberties, and -extra-parochial places, comprising altogether about 115 square miles. -According to the old bills of mortality, London formerly included only -148 parishes, which were located as follows:-- - - Parishes within the walls of the city 97 - Parishes without the walls 17 - Parishes in the city and liberties of Westminster 10 - Out parishes in Middlesex and Surrey 24 - --- - 148 - -The parishes which have been annexed to the above at different periods -since the commencement of the present century are:-- - - Parishes added by the late Mr. Rickman - (see Pop. Abstracts, 1801-31) (including - Chelsea, Kensington, Paddington, St. - Marylebone, and St. Pancras) 5 - - Parishes added by the Registrar General, - 1838 (including Hammersmith, Fulham, - Stoke Newington, Stratford-le-Bow, Bromley, - Camberwell, Deptford, Greenwich, and - Woolwich) 10 - - Parishes added by the Registrar General - in 1844 (including Clapham, Battersea, - Wandsworth, Putney, Lower Tooting, and - Streatham) 6 - - Parishes added by the Registrar General in - 1846 (comprising Hampstead, Charlton, - Plumstead, Eltham, Lee, Kidbroke, and - Lewisham) 7 - --- - Total number of parishes in the metropolis, - as defined by the Registrar General 176 - -The extent of London, according to the limits assigned to it at the -several periods above mentioned, was-- - - Stat. Acres. Sq. miles. - London within the old bills - of mortality, from 1726 21,080 32 - - London, within the limits - adopted by the late Mr. - Rickman, 1801-31 29,850 46 - - London, within the limits - adopted by the Registrar - General, 1838-43 44,850 70 - - London, within the limits - adopted by the Registrar - General, 1844-46 55,650 87 - - London, within the limits - adopted by the Registrar - General in 1847-51 74,070 115 - -“London,” observes Mr. Weale, “has now swallowed up many cities, towns, -villages, and separate jurisdictions. The four commonwealths, or -kingdoms, of the Middle Saxons, East Saxons, the South Rick, and the -Kentwaras, once ruled over its surface. It now embraces the episcopal -cities of London and Westminster, the towns of Woolwich, Deptford, and -Wandsworth, the watering places of Hampstead, Highgate, Islington, -Acton, and Kilburn, the fishing town of Barking, the once secluded and -ancient villages of Ham, Hornsey, Sydenham, Lee, Kensington, Fulham, -Lambeth, Clapham, Paddington, Hackney, Chelsea, Stoke Newington, -Newington Butts, Plumstead, and many others.” - -The 176 parishes now included by the Registrar General within the -boundaries of the metropolis, are arranged by him into five districts, -of which the areas, population, and number of inhabited houses were on -the 31st of March, 1851, as undermentioned:-- - - -TABLE SHOWING THE AREA, NUMBER OF INHABITED HOUSES, AND POPULATION OF -THE DIFFERENT PARTS OF THE METROPOLIS, 1841-51. - - ------------------------------+--------+-----------------------+------------------- - | | Population. | Inhabited Houses. - DIVISIONS OF METROPOLIS. |Statute +-----------+-----------+---------+--------- - | Acres. | 1841. | 1851. | 1841. | 1851. - ------------------------------+--------+-----------+-----------+---------+--------- - WEST DISTRICTS. | | | | | - Kensington | 7,860 | 74,898 | 119,990 | 10,962 | 17,292 - Chelsea | 780 | 40,243 | 56,543 | 5,648 | 7,629 - St. George’s, Hanover-square | 1,090 | 66,657 | 73,207 | 7,630 | 8,795 - Westminster | 840 | 56,802 | 65,609 | 6,439 | 6,647 - St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields | 260 | 25,132 | 24,557 | 2,439 | 2,323 - St. James’s, Westminster | 165 | 37,457 | 36,426 | 3,590 | 3,460 - | | | | | - NORTH DISTRICTS. | | | | | - Marylebone | 1,490 | 138,383 | 157,679 | 14,169 | 15,955 - Hampstead (added 1846) | 2,070 | 10,109 | 11,986 | 1,411 | 1,719 - Pancras | 2,600 | 129,969 | 167,198 | 14,766 | 18,731 - Islington | 3,050 | 55,779 | 95,154 | 8,508 | 13,558 - Hackney | 3,950 | 42,328 | 58,424 | 7,192 | 9,861 - | | | | | - CENTRAL DISTRICTS. | | | | | - St Giles’s | 250 | 54,378 | 54,062 | 4,959 | 4,778 - Strand | 163 | 43,667 | 44,446 | 4,327 | 3,938 - Holborn | 188 | 44,532 | 46,571 | 4,603 | 4,517 - Clerkenwell | 320 | 56,799 | 64,705 | 6,946 | 7,259 - St. Luke’s | 240 | 49,908 | 54,058 | 6,385 | 6,421 - East London |}[9]230 | 39,718 | 44,407 | 4,796 | 4,785 - West London |} | 29,188 | 28,829 | 3,010 | 2,745 - London, City of |[10]370 | 56,009 | 55,908 | 7,921 | 7,329 - | | | | | - EAST DISTRICTS. | | | | | - Shoreditch | 620 | 83,564 | 109,209 | 12,642 | 15,433 - Bethnal Green | 760 | 74,206 | 90,170 | 11,782 | 13,370 - Whitechapel | 316 | 71,879 | 79,756 | 8,834 | 8,832 - St George’s in the East | 230 | 41,416 | 48,375 | 5,985 | 6,151 - Stepney | 2,518 | 90,831 | 110,669 | 14,364 | 16,346 - Poplar | 1,250 | 31,171 | 47,157 | 5,066 | 6,882 - | | | | | - SOUTH DISTRICTS. | | | | | - St. Saviour’s, Southwark | [11]| 33,027 | 35,729 | 4,659 | 4,613 - St. Olave’s, Southwark | [11]| 19,869 | 19,367 | 2,523 | 2,365 - Bermondsey | 620 | 35,002 | 48,128 | 5,674 | 7,095 - St. George’s, Southwark |[11]590 | 46,718 | 51,825 | 6,663 | 7,005 - Newington | 630 | 54,693 | 64,805 | 9,370 | 10,468 - Lambeth | 3,640 | 116,072 | 139,240 | 17,791 | 20,520 - Wandsworth (added 1843) | 10,800 | 39,918 | 50,770 | 6,459 | 8,290 - Camberwell | 4,570 | 39,931 | 54,668 | 6,843 | 9,417 - Rotherhithe | 690 | 13,940 | 17,778 | 2,420 | 2,834 - Greenwich | 4,570 | 81,125 | 99,404 | 11,995 | 14,423 - Lewisham (added 1846) | 16,350 | 23,051 | 34,831 | 3,966 | 5,936 - ------------------------------+--------+-----------+-----------+---------+--------- - Total London Division | 74,070 | 1,948,369 | 2,361,640 | 262,737 | 307,722 - ------------------------------+--------+-----------+-----------+---------+--------- - -In order to be able to compare the average density of the population -in the various parts of London, I have made a calculation as to the -number of persons and houses to the acre, as well as the number of -inhabitants to each house. I have also computed the annual rate of -increase of the population from 1841-51, in the several localities -here mentioned, and append the result. It will be seen that, while -what are popularly known as the suburbs have increased, both in houses -and population, at a considerable rate, some of the more central parts -of London, on the contrary, have decreased not only in the number of -people, but in the number of dwellings as well. This has been the case -in St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, St. James’s, Westminster, St. Giles’s, -and the City of London. - - -TABLE SHOWING THE INCREASE OF THE POPULATION AND INHABITED HOUSES, AS -WELL AS THE NUMBER OF PEOPLE AND HOUSES TO EACH ACRE, AND THE NUMBER -OF PERSONS TO EACH HOUSE IN THE DIFFERENT PARTS OF THE METROPOLIS IN -1841-51. - - --------------------------------+----------------+---------------+---------+---------+--------- - |Yearly Increase |Yearly Increase|Number of|Number of|Number of - | of Population | of Inhabited |People to|Inhabited| Persons - |per annum, from | Houses, from |the Acre,|Houses to| to each - | 1841-51. | 1841-51. | 1851. |the Acre,| House, - | | | | 1851. | 1851. - --------------------------------+----------------+---------------+---------+---------+--------- - WEST DISTRICTS. | | | | | - Kensington | 4,509·2 | 633·0 | 15·2 | 2·2 | 6·9 - Chelsea | 1,630·0 | 198·1 | 72·4 | 9·7 | 7·4 - St. George’s, | | | | | - Hanover-square | 655·0 | 11·6 | 67·1 | 8·0 | 8·3 - Westminster | 880·7 | 20·8 | 80·4 | 8·2 | 9·8 - St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields |_decr._ 57·5[12]|_decr._11·6[12]| 94·3 | 8·9 | 10·5 - St. James’s, Westminster | 103·1[12]| 13·0[12]| 220·7 | 20·9 | 10·5 - NORTH DISTRICTS. | | | | | - Marylebone | 1,926·6 | 178·6 | 105·8 | 10·3 | 9·8 - Hampstead | 187·7 | 30·8 | 5·7 | ·8 | 6·9 - St. Pancras | 3,722·9 | 396·5 | 64·3 | 7·2 | 8·9 - Islington | 3,937·5 | 505·0 | 31·5 | 4·4 | 7·0 - Hackney | 1,609·6 | 719·2 | 14·7 | 2·3 | 5·9 - CENTRAL DISTRICTS. | | | | | - St. Giles’s | _decr._31·6[12]|_decr._18·1[12]| 216·2 | 19·1 | 11·3 - Strand | 77·9 |_decr._38·9[12]| 272·2 | 24·1 | 11·2 - Holborn | 203·9 |_decr._ 8·6[12]| 247·7 | 24·0 | 10·3 - Clerkenwell | 790·6 | 31·3 | 202·2 | 22·6 | 8·9 - St. Luke’s | 415·0 | 3·6 | 225·2 | 26·7 | 8·4 - East and West London | 433·0 |_decr._27·6[12]| 318·4 | 32·7 | 9·7 - London City |_decr._ 10·1[12]|_decr._59·2[12]| 151·0 | 19·8 | 7·6 - EAST DISTRICTS. | | | | | - Shoreditch | 2,564·5 | 279·1 | 176·1 | 24·8 | 7·0 - Bethnal-green | 1,596·4 | 158·8 | 118·6 | 17·5 | 6·7 - Whitechapel | 787·7 |_decr._ ·2[12]| 252·3 | 27·9 | 9·0 - St. George’s-in-the-East | 695·9 | 16·6 | 210·3 | 26·7 | 7·8 - Stepney | 1,983·8 | 198·2 | 43·9 | 6·4 | 6·7 - Poplar | 1,598·6 | 181·6 | 37·7 | 5·5 | 6·8 - SOUTH DISTRICTS. | | | | | - St. Saviour’s, St. Olave’s, and | | | | | - St. George’s, Southwark | 730·7 | 13·8 | 181·2 | 23·7 | 7·6 - Bermondsey | 1,312·6 | 142·1 | 77·6 | 11·2 | 6·7 - Newington | 1,011·2 | 109·8 | 102·8 | 16·6 | 6·1 - Lambeth | 2,316·8 | 272·9 | 38·2 | 5·6 | 6·7 - Wandsworth | 1,085·2 | 183·1 | 4·7 | ·7 | 6·1 - Camberwell | 1,473·7 | 257·4 | 12·4 | 2·0 | 5·8 - Rotherhithe | 383·8 | 41·4 | 25·7 | 4·1 | 6·2 - Greenwich | 1,827·9 | 242·8 | 21·7 | 3·1 | 6·8 - Lewisham | 1,178·0 | 197·0 | 2·1 | ·3 | 5·6 - --------------------------------+----------------+---------------+---------+---------+--------- - Total for all London | 41,327·1 | 4,498·5 | 31·8 | 4·1 | 7·6 - --------------------------------+----------------+---------------+---------+---------+--------- - -By the above table we perceive that St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, St. -James’s, Westminster, St. Giles’s, the Strand, and the City have all -decreased both in population and houses since 1841. The population has -diminished most of all in St. James’s, and the houses the most in the -City. The suburban districts, however, such as Chelsea, Marylebone, -St. Pancras, Islington, Hackney, Shoreditch, Bethnal-green, Stepney, -Poplar, Bermondsey, Newington, Lambeth, Wandsworth, Camberwell, -Greenwich, and Lewisham, have all increased greatly within the last -ten years, both in dwellings and people. The greatest increase of the -population, as well as houses, has been in Kensington, where the yearly -addition has been 4500 people, and 630 houses. - -The more densely-populated districts are, St. James’s, Westminster, -St. Giles’s, the Strand, Holborn, Clerkenwell, St. Luke, Whitechapel, -and St. George’s-in-the-East, in all of which places there are upwards -of 200 people to the acre, while in East and West London, in which -the population is the most dense of all, the number of people exceeds -300 to the acre. The least densely populated districts are Hampstead, -Wandsworth, and Lewisham, where the people are not more than six, and -as few as two to the acre. - -The districts in which there are the greatest number of houses to -a given space, are St. James’s, Westminster, the Strand, Holborn, -Clerkenwell, St. Luke’s, Shoreditch, and St. George’s-in-the-East, in -all of which localities there are upwards of 20 dwellings to each acre -of ground, while in East and West London, which is the most closely -built over of all, the number of houses to each acre are as many as 32. -Hampstead and Lewisham appear to be the most open districts; for there -the houses are not more than eight and three to every ten acres of -ground. - -The localities in which the houses are the most crowded with inmates -are the Strand and St. Giles’s, where there are more than eleven -people to each house, and St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, and St. James’s, -Westminster, and Holborn, where each house has on an average ten -inmates, while in Lewisham and Wandsworth the houses are the least -crowded, for there we find only five people to every house. - -Now, comparing this return with that of the metropolitan police, -we have the following results as to the extent and contents of the -Metropolis Proper:-- - - According - to According - Registrar to Metropolitan - General. Police. - Area (in statute acres) 74,070 58,880 - Parishes 176 179 - Number of inhabited houses 307,722 305,525 - Population 2,361,640 2,111,629 - -Hence it will be seen that both the extent and contents of these two -returns differ most materially. - -1st. The superficies of the Registrar General’s metropolis is very -nearly 13 square miles, or 15,190 statute acres, greater than the -metropolis of the police commissioners. - -2nd. The number of inhabited houses is 2197 more in the one than in the -other. - -3rd. The population of London, according to the Registrar General’s -limits, is 250,011, or a quarter of a million, more than it is -according to the limits of the metropolitan police. - -It were much to be desired that some more definite and scientific -mode, not only of limiting, but of dividing the metropolis, were to be -adopted. At present there are, perhaps, as many different metropolises, -so to speak, and as many different modes of apportioning the several -parts of the whole into districts, as there are public bodies whose -operations are specially confined to the capital. The Registrar -General has, as we have seen, one metropolis divided into western, -northern, central, eastern, and southern districts. The metropolitan -police commissioners have another metropolis apportioned into its A -divisions, B divisions, and so forth; and the Post Office has a third -metropolis parcelled out in a totally different manner; while the -London City Mission, the Scripture Readers, the Ragged Schools, and the -many other similar metropolitan institutions, all seem to delight in -creating a distinct metropolis for themselves, thus tending to make the -statistical “confusion worse confounded.” - - -OF THE DUSTMEN OF LONDON. - -Dust and rubbish accumulate in houses from a variety of causes, but -principally from the residuum of fires, the white ash and cinders, or -small fragments of unconsumed coke, giving rise to by far the greater -quantity. Some notion of the vast amount of this refuse annually -produced in London may be formed from the fact that the consumption of -coal in the metropolis is, according to the official returns, 3,500,000 -tons per annum, which is at the rate of a little more than 11 tons per -house; the poorer families, it is true, do not burn more than 2 tons -in the course of the year, but then many such families reside in the -same house, and hence the average will appear in no way excessive. -Now the ashes and cinders arising from this enormous consumption of -coal would, it is evident, if allowed to lie scattered about in such a -place as London, render, ere long, not only the back streets, but even -the important thoroughfares, filthy and impassable. Upon the Officers -of the various parishes, therefore, has devolved the duty of seeing -that the refuse of the fuel consumed throughout London is removed -almost as fast as produced; this they do by entering into an agreement -for the clearance of the “dust-bins” of the parishioners as often as -required, with some person who possesses all necessary appliances for -the purpose--such as horses, carts, baskets, and shovels, together with -a plot of waste ground whereon to deposit the refuse. The persons with -whom this agreement is made are called “dust-contractors,” and are -generally men of considerable wealth. - -The collection of “dust,” is now, more properly speaking, the removal -of it. The collection of an article implies the voluntary seeking -after it, and this the dustmen can hardly be said to do; for though -they parade the streets shouting for the dust as they go, they do so -rather to fulfil a certain duty they have undertaken to perform than in -any expectation of profit to be derived from the sale of the article. - -Formerly the custom was otherwise; but then, as will be seen hereafter, -the residuum of the London fuel was far more valuable. Not many -years ago it was the practice for the various master dustmen to send -in their tenders to the vestry, on a certain day appointed for the -purpose, offering to pay a considerable sum yearly to the parish -authorities for liberty to collect the dust from the several houses. -The sum formerly paid to the parish of Shadwell, for instance, though -not a very extensive one, amounted to between 400_l._ or 500_l._ per -annum; but then there was an immense demand for the article, and the -contractors were unable to furnish a sufficient supply from London; -ships were frequently freighted with it from other parts, especially -from Newcastle and the northern ports, and at that time it formed an -article of considerable international commerce--the price being from -15_s._ to 1_l._ per chaldron. Of late years, however, the demand has -fallen off greatly, while the supply has been progressively increasing, -owing to the extension of the metropolis, so that the Contractors -have not only declined paying anything for liberty to collect it, but -now stipulate to receive a certain sum for the removal of it. It need -hardly be stated that the parishes always employ the man who requires -the least money for the performance of what has now become a matter -of duty rather than an object of desire. Some idea may be formed of -the change which has taken place in this business, from the fact, that -the aforesaid parish of Shadwell, which formerly received the sum -of 450_l._ per annum for liberty to collect the dust, now pays the -Contractor the sum of 240_l._ per annum for its removal. - -The Court of Sewers of the City of London, in 1846, through the -advice of Mr. Cochrane, the president of the National Philanthropic -Association, were able to obtain from the contractors the sum of -5000_l._ for liberty to clear away the dirt from the streets and the -dust from the bins and houses in that district. The year following, -however, the contractors entered into a combination, and came to a -resolution not to bid so high for the privilege; the result was, that -they obtained their contracts at an expense of 2200_l._ By acting -on the same principle in the year after, they not only offered no -premium whatever for the contract, but the City Commissioners of Sewers -were obliged to pay them the sum of 300_l._ for removing the refuse, -and at present the amount paid by the City is as much as 4900_l._! -This is divided among four great contractors, and would, if equally -apportioned, give them 1250_l._ each. - -I subjoin a list of the names of the principal contractors and the -parishes for which they are engaged:-- - - DISTRICTS CONTRACTED NAMES OF - FOR. CONTRACTORS. - - { Redding. - Four divisions of the City. { Rook. - { J. Sinnott. - { J. Gould. - Finsbury-square J. Gould. - St. Luke’s H. Dodd. - Shoreditch Ditto. - Norton Folgate J. Gould. - Bethnal-green E. Newman. - Holborn Pratt and Sewell. - Hatton-garden Ditto. - Islington Stroud, Brickmaker. - St. Martin’s Wm. Sinnott, Junior. - St. Mary-le-Strand J. Gore. - St. Sepulchre Ditto. - Savoy Ditto. - St. Clement Danes Rook. - St. James’s, Clerkenwell H. Dodd. - St. John’s, ditto J. Gould. - St. Margaret’s, Westminster W. Hearne. - St. John’s, ditto Stapleton and Holdsworth. - Lambeth W. Hearne. - Chelsea C. Humphries. - St. Marylebone J. Gore. - Blackfriars-bridge Jenkins. - St. Paul’s, Covent-garden W. Sinnott. - Piccadilly H. Tame. - Regent-street and Pall-mall W. Ridding. - St. George’s, Hanover-sq. H. Tame. - Paddington C. Humphries. - Camden-town Milton. - St. Pancras, S.W. Division W. Stapleton. - Southampton estate C. Starkey. - Skinner’s ditto H. North. - Brewer’s ditto C. Starkey. - Cromer ditto Ditto. - Calthorpe ditto Ditto. - Bedford ditto Gore. - Doughty ditto Martin. - Union ditto J. Gore. - Foundling ditto Pratt and Sewell. - Harrison ditto Martin. - St. Ann’s, Soho J. Gore. - Whitechapel Parsons. - Goswell-street Redding. - Commercial-road, East J. Sinnott. - Mile-end Newman. - Borough Hearne. - Bermondsey The parish. - Kensington H. Tame. - St. Giles’s-in-the-Fields and - St. George’s, Bloomsbury Redding. - Shadwell Westley. - St. George’s-in-the-East Ditto. - Battle-bridge Starkey. - Berkeley-square Clutterbuck. - St. George’s, Pimlico Redding. - Woods and Forests Ditto. - St. Botolph Westley. - St. John’s, Wapping Ditto. - Somers-town H. North. - Kentish-town J. Gore. - Rolls (Liberty of the) Pratt and Sewell. - Edward-square, Kensington C. Humphries. - -All the metropolitan parishes now pay the contractors various amounts -for the removal of the dust, and I am credibly informed that there is -a system of underletting and jobbing in the dust contracts extensively -carried on. The contractor for a certain parish is often a different -person from the master doing the work, who is unknown in the contract. -Occasionally the work would appear to be subdivided and underlet a -second time. - -The parish of St. Pancras is split into no less than 21 districts, each -district having a separate and independent “Board,” who are generally -at war with each other, and make separate contracts for their several -divisions. This is also the case in other large parishes, and these -and other considerations confirm me in the conclusion that of large -and small dust-contractors, job-masters, and middle-men, of one kind -or the other, throughout the metropolis, there cannot be less than the -number I have stated--90. With the exception of Bermondsey, there are -no parishes who remove their own dust. - -It is difficult to arrive at any absolute statement as to the gross -amount paid by the different parishes for the removal of the entire -dust of the metropolis. From Shadwell the contractor, as we have seen, -receives 250_l._; from the city the four contractors receive as much -as 5000_l._; but there are many small parishes in London which do not -pay above a tithe of the last-mentioned sum. Let us, therefore, assume, -that one with another, the several metropolitan parishes pay 200_l._ -a year each to the dust contractor. According to the returns before -given, there are 176 parishes in London. Hence, the gross amount paid -for the removal of the entire dust of the metropolis will be between -30,000_l._ and 40,000_l._ per annum. - -The removal of the dust throughout the metropolis, is, therefore, -carried on by a number of persons called Contractors, who undertake, -as has been stated, for a certain sum, to cart away the refuse from -the houses as frequently as the inhabitants desire it. To ascertain -the precise numbers of these contractors is a task of much greater -difficulty than might at first be conceived. - -The London Post Office Directory gives the following number of -tradesmen connected with the removal of refuse from the houses and -streets of the metropolis. - - Dustmen 9 - Scavengers 10 - Nightmen 14 - Sweeps 32 - -But these numbers are obviously incomplete, for even a cursory -passenger through London must have noticed a greater number of names -upon the various dust carts to be met with in the streets than are here -set down. - -A dust-contractor, who has been in the business upwards of 20 years, -stated that, from his knowledge of the trade, he should suppose that at -present there might be about 80 or 90 contractors in the metropolis. -Now, according to the returns before given, there are within the limits -of the Metropolitan Police District 176 parishes, and comparing this -with my informant’s statement, that many persons contract for more than -one parish (of which, indeed, he himself is an instance), there remains -but little reason to doubt the correctness of his supposition--that -there are, in all, between 80 or 90 dust-contractors, large and small, -connected with the metropolis. Assuming the aggregate number to be 88, -there would be one contractor to every two parishes. - -These dust-contractors are likewise the contractors for the -cleansing of the streets, except where that duty is performed by the -Street-Orderlies; they are also the persons who undertake the emptying -of the cesspools in their neighbourhood; the latter operation, however, -is effected by an arrangement between themselves and the landlords -of the premises, and forms no part of their parochial contracts. At -the office of the Street Orderlies in Leicester Square, they have -knowledge of only 30 contractors connected with the metropolis; but -this is evidently defective, and refers to the “large masters” alone; -leaving out of all consideration, as it does, the host of small -contractors scattered up and down the metropolis, who are able to -employ only two or three carts and six or seven men each; many of such -small contractors being merely master sweeps who have managed to “get -on a little in the world,” and who are now able to contract, “in a -small way,” for the removal of dust, street-sweepings, and night-soil. -Moreover, many of even the “great contractors” being unwilling to -venture upon an outlay of capital for carts, horses, &c., when their -contract is only for a year, and may pass at the end of that time into -the hands of any one who may underbid them--many such, I repeat, are -in the habit of underletting a portion of their contract to others -possessing the necessary appliances, or of entering into partnership -with them. The latter is the case in the parish of Shadwell, where a -person having carts and horses shares the profits with the original -contractor. The agreement made on such occasions is, of course, a -secret, though the practice is by no means uncommon; indeed, there is -so much secrecy maintained concerning all matters connected with this -business, that the inquiry is beset with every possible difficulty. -The gentleman who communicated to me the amount paid by the parish -of Shadwell, and who informed me, moreover, that parishes in his -neighbourhood paid twice and three times more than Shadwell did, hinted -to me the difficulties I should experience at the commencement of my -inquiry, and I have certainly found his opinion correct to the letter. -I have ascertained that in one yard intimidation was resorted to, and -the men were threatened with instant dismissal if they gave me any -information but such as was calculated to mislead. - -I soon discovered, indeed, that it was impossible to place any reliance -on what some of the contractors said; and here I may repeat that the -indisputable result of my inquiries has been to meet with far more -deception and equivocation from employers generally than from the -employed; working men have little or no motive for mis-stating their -wages; they know well that the ordinary rates of remuneration for their -labour are easily ascertainable from other members of the trade, and -seldom or never object to produce accounts of their earnings, whenever -they have been in the habit of keeping such things. With employers, -however, the case is far different; to seek to ascertain from them -the profits of their trade is to meet with evasion and prevarication -at every turn; they seem to feel that their gains are dishonestly -large, and hence resort to every means to prevent them being made -public. That I have met with many honourable exceptions to this rule, -I most cheerfully acknowledge; but that the _majority_ of tradesmen -are neither so frank, communicative, nor truthful, as the men in their -employ, the whole of my investigations go to prove. I have already, in -the _Morning Chronicle_, recorded the character of my interviews with -an eminent Jew slop-tailor, an army clothier, and an enterprising -free-trade stay-maker (a gentleman who subscribed his 100 guineas to -the League), and I must in candour confess that now, after two years’ -experience, I have found the industrious poor a thousand-fold more -veracious than the trading rich. - -With respect to the amount of business done by these contractors, or -gross quantity of dust collected by them in the course of the year, -it would appear that each employs, on an average, about 20 men, which -makes the number of men employed as dustmen through the streets of -London amount to 1800. This, as has been previously stated, is grossly -at variance with the number given in the Census of 1841, which computes -the dustmen in the metropolis at only 254. But, as I said before, I -have long ceased to place confidence in the government returns on such -subjects. According to the above estimate of 254, and deducting from -this number the 88 master-dustmen, there would be only 166 labouring -men to empty the 300,000 dustbins of London, and as these men always -work in couples, it follows that every two dustmen would have to remove -the refuse from about 3600 houses; so that assuming each bin to require -emptying once every six weeks they would have to cart away the dust -from 2400 houses every month, or 600 every week, which is at the rate -of 100 a day! and as each dust-bin contains about half a load, it would -follow that at this rate each cart would have to collect 50 loads of -dust daily, whereas 5 loads is the average day’s work. - -Computing the London dust-contractors at 90, and the inhabited houses -at 300,000, it follows that each contractor would have 3333 houses to -remove the refuse from. Now it has been calculated that the ashes and -cinders alone from each house average about three loads per annum, so -that each contractor would have, in round numbers, 10,000 loads of -dust to remove in the course of the year. I find, from inquiries, that -every two dustmen carry to the yard about five loads a day, or about -1500 loads in the course of the year, so that at this rate, there must -be between six and seven carts, and twelve and fourteen collectors -employed by each master. But this is exclusive of the men employed -in the yards. In one yard that I visited there were fourteen people -busily employed. Six of these were women, who were occupied in sifting, -and they were attended by three men who shovelled the dust into their -sieves, and the foreman, who was hard at work loosening and dragging -down the dust from the heap, ready for the “fillers-in.” Besides these -there were two carts and four men engaged in conveying the sifted dust -to the barges alongside the wharf. At a larger dust-yard, that formerly -stood on the banks of the Regent’s-canal, I am informed that there were -sometimes as many as 127 people at work. It is but a small yard, which -has not 30 to 40 labourers connected with it; and the lesser dust-yards -have generally from four to eight sifters, and six or seven carts. -There are, therefore, employed in a medium-sized yard twelve collectors -or cartmen, six sifters, and three fillers-in, besides the foreman -or forewoman, making altogether 22 persons; so that, computing the -contractors at 90, and allowing 20 men to be employed by each, there -would be 1800 men thus occupied in the metropolis, which appears to be -very near the truth. - -One who has been all his life connected with the business estimated -that there must be about ten dustmen to each metropolitan parish, large -and small. In Marylebone he believed there were eighteen dust-carts, -with two men to each, out every day; in some small parishes, however, -two men are sufficient. There would be more men employed, he said, -but some masters contracted for two or three parishes, and so “kept -the same men going,” working them hard, and enlarging their regular -rounds. Calculating, then, that ten men are employed to each of the 176 -metropolitan parishes, we have 1760 dustmen in London. The suburban -parishes, my informant told me, were as well “dustmaned” as any he -knew; for the residents in such parts were more particular about their -dust than in busier places. - -It is curious to observe how closely the number of men engaged in -the collection of the “dust” from the coals burnt in London agrees, -according to the above estimate, with the number of men engaged in -delivering the coals to be burnt. The coal-whippers, who “discharge the -colliers,” are about 1800, and the coal-porters, who carry the coals -from the barges to the merchants’ wagons, are about the same in number. -The amount of residuum from coal after burning cannot, of course, -be equal either in bulk or weight to the original substance; but -considering that the collection of the dust is a much slower operation -than the delivery of the coals, the difference is easily accounted for. - -We may arrive, approximately, at the quantity of dust annually produced -in London, in the following manner:-- - -The consumption of coal in London, per annum, is about 3,500,000 tons, -exclusive of what is brought to the metropolis per rail. Coals are made -up of the following component parts, viz. (1) the inorganic and fixed -elements; that is to say, the ashes, or the bones, as it were, of the -fossil trees, which cannot be burnt; (2) coke, or the residuary carbon, -after being deprived of the volatile matter; (3) the volatile matter -itself given off during combustion in the form of flame and smoke. - -The relative proportions of these materials in the various kinds of -coals are as follows.-- - - Carbon, Volatile, Ashes, - per cent. per cent. per cent. - Cannel or gas coals. 40 to 60 60 to 40 10 - Newcastle or “house” coals. 57 37 5 - Lancashire and Yorkshire coals. 50 to 60 35 to 40 4 - South Welsh or “steam” coals. 81 to 85 11 to 15 3 - Anthracite or “stone” coals. 80 to 95 None a little. - -In the metropolis the Newcastle coal is chiefly used, and this, we -perceive, yields five per cent. ashes and about 57 per cent. carbon. -But a considerable part of the carbon is converted into carbonic acid -during combustion; if, therefore, we assume that two-thirds of the -carbon are thus consumed, and that the remaining third remains behind -in the form of cinder, we shall have about 25 per cent. of “dust” from -every ton of coal. On inquiry of those who have had long experience in -this matter, I find that a ton of coal may be fairly said on an average -to yield about one-fourth its weight in dust; hence the gross amount -of “dust” annually produced in London would be 900,000 tons, or about -three tons per house per annum. - -It is impossible to obtain any definite statistics on this part of the -subject. Not one in every ten of the contractors keeps any account of -the amount that comes into the “yard.” An intelligent and communicative -gentleman whom I consulted on this matter, could give me no information -on this subject that was in any way satisfactory. I have, however, -endeavoured to check the preceding estimate in the following manner. -There are in London upwards of 300,000 inhabited houses, and each -house furnishes a certain quota of dust to the general stock. I have -ascertained that an average-sized house will produce, in the course of -a year, about three cart-loads of dust, while each cart holds about -40 bushels (baskets)--what the dustmen call a chaldron. There are, of -course, many houses in the metropolis which furnish three and four -times this amount of dust, but against these may be placed the vast -preponderance of small and poor houses in London and the suburbs, where -there is not one quarter of the quantity produced, owing to the small -amount of fuel consumed. Estimating, then, the average annual quantity -of dust from each house at three loads, or chaldrons, and the houses at -300,000, it follows that the gross quantity collected throughout the -metropolis will be about 900,000 chaldrons per annum. - -The next part of the subject is--what becomes of this vast quantity of -dust--to what use it is applied. - -The dust thus collected is used for two purposes, (1) as a manure for -land of a peculiar quality; and (2) for making bricks. The fine portion -of the house-dust called “soil,” and separated from the “brieze,” or -coarser portion, by sifting, is found to be peculiarly fitted for what -is called breaking up a marshy heathy soil at its first cultivation, -owing not only to the dry nature of the dust, but to its possessing in -an eminent degree a highly separating quality, almost, if not quite, -equal to sand. In former years the demand for this finer dust was very -great, and barges were continually in the river waiting their turn to -be loaded with it for some distant part of the country. At that time -the contractors were unable to supply the demand, and easily got 1_l._ -per chaldron for as much as they could furnish, and then, as I have -stated, many ships were in the habit of bringing cargoes of it from -the North, and of realizing a good profit on the transaction. Of late -years, however--and particularly, I am told, since the repeal of the -corn-laws--this branch of the business has dwindled to nothing. The -contractors say that the farmers do not cultivate their land now as -they used; it will not pay them, and instead, therefore, of bringing -fresh land into tillage, and especially such as requires this sort -of manure, they are laying down that which they previously had in -cultivation, and turning it into pasture grounds. It is principally -on this account, say the contractors, that we cannot sell the dust we -collect so well or so readily as formerly. There are, however, some -cargoes of the dust still taken, particularly to the lowlands in the -neighbourhood of Barking, and such other places in the vicinity of the -metropolis as are enabled to realize a greater profit, by growing for -the London markets. Nevertheless, the contractors are obliged now to -dispose of the dust at 2_s._ 6_d._ per chaldron, and sometimes less. - -The finer dust is also used to mix with the clay for making bricks, -and barge-loads are continually shipped off for this purpose. The -fine ashes are added to the clay in the proportion of one-fifth ashes -to four-fifths clay, or 60 chaldrons to 240 cubic yards, which is -sufficient to make 100,000 bricks (where much sand is mixed with the -clay a smaller proportion of ashes may be used). This quantity requires -also the addition of about 15 chaldrons, or, if mild, of about 12 -chaldrons of “brieze,” to aid the burning. The ashes are made to mix -with the clay by collecting it into a sort of reservoir fitted up for -the purpose; water in great quantities is let in upon it, and it is -then stirred till it resembles a fine thin paste, in which state the -dust easily mingles with every part of it. In this condition it is left -till the water either soaks into the earth, or goes off by evaporation, -when the bricks are moulded in the usual manner, the dust forming a -component part of them. - -The ashes, or cindered matter, which are thus dispersed throughout the -substance of the clay, become, in the process of burning, gradually -ignited and consumed. But the “brieze” (from the French _briser_, to -break or crush), that is to say, the coarser portion of the coal-ash, -is likewise used in the burning of the bricks. The small spaces left -among the lowest courses of the bricks in the kiln, or “clamp,” are -filled with “brieze,” and a thick layer of the same material is spread -on the top of the kilns, when full. Frequently the “brieze” is mixed -with small coals, and after having been burnt the ashes are collected, -and then mixed with the clay to form new bricks. The highest price at -present given for “brieze” is 3_s._ per ton. - -The price of the dust used by the brickmakers has likewise been -reduced; this the contractors account for by saying that there are -fewer brick-fields than formerly near London, as they have been nearly -all built over. They assert, that while the amount of dust and cinders -has increased proportionately to the increase of the houses, the demand -for the article has decreased in a like ratio; and that, moreover, the -greater portion of the bricks now used in London for the new buildings -come from other quarters. Such dust, however, as the contractors -sell to the brick-makers, they in general undertake, for a certain -sum, to cart to the brick-fields, though it often happens that the -brick-makers’ carts coming into town with their loads of bricks to new -buildings, call on their return at the dust-yards, and carry thence a -load of dust or cinders back, and so save the price of cartage. - -But during the operation of sifting the dust, many things are found -which are useless for either manure or brick-making, such as oyster -shells, old bricks, old boots and shoes, old tin kettles, old rags and -bones, &c. These are used for various purposes. - -The bricks, &c., are sold for sinking beneath foundations, where a -thick layer of concrete is spread over them. Many old bricks, too, are -used in making new roads, especially where the land is low and marshy. -The old tin goes to form the japanned fastenings for the corners of -trunks, as well as to other persons, who re-manufacture it into a -variety of articles. The old shoes are sold to the London shoemakers, -who use them as stuffing between the in-sole and the outer one; but by -far the greater quantity is sold to the manufacturers of Prussian blue, -that substance being formed out of refuse animal matter. The rags and -bones are of course disposed of at the usual places--the marine-store -shops. - -A dust-heap, therefore, may be briefly said to be composed of the -following things, which are severally applied to the following uses:-- - -1. “Soil,” or fine dust, sold to brickmakers for making bricks, and to -farmers for manure, especially for clover. - -2. “Brieze,” or cinders, sold to brickmakers, for burning bricks. - -3. Rags, bones, and old metal, sold to marine-store dealers. - -4. Old tin and iron vessels, sold for “clamps” to trunks, &c., and for -making copperas. - -5. Old bricks and oyster shells, sold to builders, for sinking -foundations, and forming roads. - -6. Old boots and shoes, sold to Prussian-blue manufacturers. - -7. Money and jewellery, kept, or sold to Jews. - -The dust-yards, or places where the dust is collected and sifted, are -generally situated in the suburbs, and they may be found all round -London, sometimes occupying open spaces adjoining back streets and -lanes, and surrounded by the low mean houses of the poor; frequently, -however, they cover a large extent of ground in the fields, and -there the dust is piled up to a great height in a conical heap, and -having much the appearance of a volcanic mountain. The reason why -the dust-heaps are confined principally to the suburbs is, that more -space is to be found in the outskirts than in a thickly-peopled and -central locality. Moreover, the fear of indictments for nuisance has -had considerable influence in the matter, for it was not unusual for -the yards in former times, to be located within the boundaries of -the city. They are now, however, scattered round London, and always -placed as near as possible to the river, or to some canal communicating -therewith. In St. George’s, Shadwell, Ratcliffe, Limehouse, Poplar, -and Blackwall, on the north side of the Thames, and in Redriffe, -Bermondsey, and Rotherhithe, on the south, they are to be found near -the Thames. The object of this is, that by far the greater quantity of -the soil or ashes is conveyed in sailing-barges, holding from 70 to -100 tons each, to Feversham, Sittingbourne, and other places in Kent, -which are the great brick-making manufactories for London. These barges -come up invariably loaded with bricks, and take home in return a cargo -of soil. Other dust-yards are situated contiguous to the Regent’s -and the Surrey canal; and for the same reason as above stated--for -the convenience of water carriage. Moreover, adjoining the Limehouse -cut, which is a branch of the Lea River, other dust-yards may be -found; and again travelling to the opposite end of the metropolis, we -discover them not only at Paddington on the banks of the canal, but at -Maiden-lane in a similar position. Some time since there was an immense -dust-heap in the neighbourhood of Gray’s-inn-lane, which sold for -20,000_l._; but that was in the days when 15_s._ and 1_l._ per chaldron -could easily be procured for the dust. According to the present rate, -not a tithe of that amount could have been realized upon it. - -[Illustration: VIEW OF A DUST YARD. - -(_From a Sketch taken on the spot._)] - -A visit to any of the large metropolitan dust-yards is far from -uninteresting. Near the centre of the yard rises the highest heap, -composed of what is called the “soil,” or finer portion of the dust -used for manure. Around this heap are numerous lesser heaps, consisting -of the mixed dust and rubbish carted in and shot down previous to -sifting. Among these heaps are many women and old men with sieves -made of iron, all busily engaged in separating the “brieze” from the -“soil.” There is likewise another large heap in some other part of the -yard, composed of the cinders or “brieze” waiting to be shipped off to -the brickfields. The whole yard seems alive, some sifting and others -shovelling the sifted soil on to the heap, while every now and then -the dust-carts return to discharge their loads, and proceed again on -their rounds for a fresh supply. Cocks and hens keep up a continual -scratching and cackling among the heaps, and numerous pigs seem to find -great delight in rooting incessantly about after the garbage and offal -collected from the houses and markets. - -In a dust-yard lately visited the sifters formed a curious sight; -they were almost up to their middle in dust, ranged in a semi-circle -in front of that part of the heap which was being “worked;” each had -before her a small mound of soil which had fallen through her sieve and -formed a sort of embankment, behind which she stood. The appearance of -the entire group at their work was most peculiar. Their coarse dirty -cotton gowns were tucked up behind them, their arms were bared above -their elbows, their black bonnets crushed and battered like those -of fish-women; over their gowns they wore a strong leathern apron, -extending from their necks to the extremities of their petticoats, -while over this, again, was another leathern apron, shorter, thickly -padded, and fastened by a stout string or strap round the waist. In the -process of their work they pushed the sieve from them and drew it back -again with apparent violence, striking it against the outer leathern -apron with such force that it produced each time a hollow sound, like -a blow on the tenor drum. All the women present were middle aged, -with the exception of one who was very old--68 years of age she told -me--and had been at the business from a girl. She was the daughter of -a dustman, the wife, or woman of a dustman, and the mother of several -young dustmen--sons and grandsons--all at work at the dust-yards at the -east end of the metropolis. - -We now come to speak of the labourers engaged in collecting, sifting, -or shipping off the dust of the metropolis. - -The dustmen, scavengers, and nightmen are, to a certain extent, the -same people. The contractors generally agree with the various parishes -to remove both the dust from the houses and the mud from the streets; -the men in their employ are indiscriminately engaged in these two -diverse occupations, collecting the dust to-day, and often cleansing -the streets on the morrow, and are designated either dustmen or -scavengers, according to their particular avocation at the moment. The -case is somewhat different, however, with respect to the nightmen. -There is no such thing as a contract with the parish for removing the -nightsoil. This is done by private agreement with the landlord of the -premises whence the soil has to be removed. When a cesspool requires -emptying, the occupying tenant communicates with the landlord, who -makes an arrangement with a dust-contractor or sweep-nightman for -this purpose. This operation is totally distinct from the regular -or daily labour of the dust-contractor’s men, who receive extra pay -for it; sometimes one set go out at night and sometimes another, -according either to the selection of the master or the inclination of -the men. There are, however, some dustmen who have never been at work -as nightmen, and could not be induced to do so, from an invincible -antipathy to the employment; still, such instances are few, for the men -generally go whenever they can, and occasionally engage in nightwork -for employers unconnected with their masters. It is calculated that -there are some hundreds of men employed nightly in the removal of the -nightsoil of the metropolis during the summer and autumn, and as these -men have often to work at dust-collecting or cleansing the streets on -the following day, it is evident that the same persons cannot be thus -employed every night; accordingly the ordinary practice is for the -dustmen to “take it in turns,” thus allowing each set to be employed -every third night, and to have two nights’ rest in the interim. - -The men, therefore, who collect the dust on one day may be cleaning the -streets on the next, especially during wet weather, and engaged at -night, perhaps, twice during the week, in removing nightsoil; so that -it is difficult to arrive at any precise notion as to the number of -persons engaged in any one of these branches _per se_. - -But these labourers not only work indiscriminately at the collection of -dust, the cleansing of the streets, or the removal of nightsoil, but -they are employed almost as indiscriminately at the various branches -of the dust business; with this qualification, however, that few men -apply themselves continuously to any one branch of the business. The -labourers employed in a dust-yard may be divided into two classes: -those paid by the contractor; and those paid by the foreman or -forewoman of the dust-heap, commonly called hill-man or hill-woman. - -They are as follows:-- - - I. LABOURERS PAID BY THE CONTRACTORS, OR, - - 1. _Yard foreman_, or superintendent. This duty is often performed by - the master, especially in small contracts. - - 2. _Gangers_ or _dust-collectors_. These are called “fillers” and - “carriers,” from the practice of one of the men who go out with the - cart filling the basket, and the other carrying it on his shoulder to - the vehicle. - - 3. _Loaders_ of carts in the dust-yard for shipment. - - 4. _Carriers_ of cinders to the cinder-heap, or bricks to the - brick-heap. - - 5. _Foreman_ or _forewoman_ of the heap. - - II. LABOURERS PAID BY THE HILL-MAN OR HILL-WOMAN. - - 1. _Sifters_, who are generally women, and mostly the wives or - concubines of the dustmen, but sometimes the wives of badly-paid - labourers. - - 2. _Fillers-in_, or shovellers of dust into the sieves of the sifters - (one man being allowed to every two or three women). - - 3. _Carriers off_ of bones, rags, metal, and other perquisites to the - various heaps; these are mostly children of the dustmen. - -A medium-sized dust-yard will employ about twelve collectors, three -fillers-in, six sifters, and one foreman or forewoman; while a large -yard will afford work to about 150 people. - -There are four different modes of payment prevalent among the several -labourers employed at the metropolitan dust-yards:--(1) by the day; (2) -by the piece or load; (3) by the lump; (4) by perquisites. - -1st. The foreman of the yard, where the master does not perform this -duty himself, is generally one of the regular dustmen picked out by -the master, for this purpose. He is paid, the sum of 2_s._ 6_d._ per -day, or 15_s._ per week. In large yards there are sometimes two and -even three yard-foremen at the same rate of wages. Their duty is -merely to superintend the work. They do not labour themselves, and -their exemption in this respect is considered, and indeed looked on by -themselves, as a sort of premium for good services. - -[Illustration: THE LONDON DUSTMAN. - -DUST HOI! DUST HOI! - -[_From a Daguerreotype by_ BEARD.]] - -2nd. The gangers or collectors are generally paid 8_d._ per load for -every load they bring into the yard. This is, of course, piece work, -for the more hours the men work the more loads will they be enabled to -bring, and the more pay will they receive. There are some yards where -the carters get only 6_d._ per load, as, for instance, at Paddington. -The Paddington men, however, are not considered inferior workmen to -the rest of their fellows, but merely to be worse paid. In 1826, or -25 years ago, the carters had 1_s._ 6_d._ per load; but at that time -the contractors were able to get 1_l._ per chaldron for the soil and -“brieze” or cinders; then it began to fall in value, and according -to the decrease in the price of these commodities, so have the wages -of the dust-collectors been reduced. It will be at once seen that -the reduction in the wages of the dustmen bears no proportion to the -reduction in the price of soil and cinders, but it must be borne in -mind that whereas the contractors formerly paid large sums for liberty -to collect the dust, they now are paid large sums to remove it. This -in some measure helps to account for the apparent disproportion, and -tends, perhaps, to equalize the matter. The gangers, therefore, have -4_d._ each, per load when best paid. They consider from four to six -loads a good day’s work, for where the contract is large, extending -over several parishes, they often have to travel a long way for a -load. It thus happens that while the men employed by the Whitechapel -contractor can, when doing their utmost, manage to bring only four -loads a day to the yard, which is situated in a place called the -“ruins” in Lower Shadwell, the men employed by the Shadwell contractor -can easily get eight or nine loads in a day. Five loads are about an -average day’s work, and this gives them 1_s._ 8-1/2_d._ per day each, -or 10_s._ per week. In addition to this, the men have their perquisites -“in aid of wages.” The collectors are in the habit of getting beer or -money in lieu thereof, at nearly all the houses from which they remove -the dust, the public being thus in a manner compelled to make up the -rate of wages, which should be paid by the employer, so that what is -given to benefit the men really goes to the master, who invariably -reduces the wages to the precise amount of the perquisites obtained. -This is the main evil of the “perquisite system of payment” (a system -of which the mode of paying waiters may be taken as the special type). -As an instance of the injurious effects of this mode of payment in -connection with the London dustmen, the collectors are forced, as it -were, to extort from the public that portion of their fair earnings of -which their master deprives them; hence, how can we wonder that they -make it a rule when they receive neither beer nor money from a house to -make as great a mess as possible the next time they come, scattering -the dust and cinders about in such a manner, that, sooner than have -any trouble with them, people mostly give them what they look for? -One of the most intelligent men with whom I have spoken, gave me the -following account of his perquisites for the last week, viz.: Monday, -5-1/2_d._; Tuesday, 6_d._; Wednesday, 4-1/2_d._; Thursday, 7_d._; -Friday, 5-1/2_d._; and Saturday, 5_d._ This he received in money, and -was independent of beer. He had on the same week drawn rather more than -five loads each day, to the yard, which made his gross earnings for the -week, wages and perquisites together, to be 14_s._ 0-1/2_d._ which he -considers to be a fair average of his weekly earnings as connected with -dust. - -3rd. The loaders of the carts for shipment are the same persons as -those who collect the dust, but thus employed for the time being. The -pay for this work is by the “piece” also, 2_d._ per chaldron between -four persons being the usual rate, or 1/2_d._ per man. The men so -engaged have no perquisites. The barges into which they shoot the soil -or “brieze,” as the case may be, hold from 50 to 70 chaldrons, and they -consider the loading of one of these barges a good day’s work. The -average cargo is about 60 chaldrons, which gives them 2_s._ 6_d._ per -day, or somewhat more than their average earnings when collecting. - -4th. The carriers of cinders to the cinder heap. I have mentioned that, -ranged round the sifters in the dust-yard, are a number of baskets, -into which are put the various things found among the dust, some of -these being the property of the master, and others the perquisites of -the hill man or woman, as the case may be. The cinders and old bricks -are the property of the master, and to remove them to their proper -heaps boys are employed by him at 1_s._ per day. These boys are almost -universally the children of dustmen and sifters at work in the yard, -and thus not only help to increase the earnings of the family, but -qualify themselves to become the dustmen of a future day. - -5th. The hill-man or hill-woman. The hill-man enters into an agreement -with the contractor to sift _all_ the dust in the yard throughout -the year at so much per load and perquisites. The usual sum per -load is 6_d._, nor have I been able to ascertain that any of these -people undertake to do it at a less price. Such is the amount paid -by the contractor for Whitechapel. The perquisites of the hill-man -or hill-woman, are rags, bones, pieces of old metal, old tin or iron -vessels, old boots and shoes, and one-half of the money, jewellery, or -other valuables that may be found by the sifters. - -The hill-man or hill-woman employs the following persons, and pays them -at the following rates. - -1st. The sifters are paid 1_s._ per day when employed, but the -employment is not constant. The work cannot be pursued in wet weather, -and the services of the sifters are required only when a large heap -has accumulated, as they can sift much faster than the dust can be -collected. The employment is therefore precarious; the payment has -not, for the last 30 years at least, been more than 1_s._ per day, but -the perquisites were greater. They formerly were allowed one-half of -whatever was found; of late years, however, the hill-man has gradually -reduced the perquisites “first one thing and then another,” until -the only one they have now remaining is half of whatever money or -other valuable article may be found in the process of sifting. These -valuables the sifters often pocket, if able to do so unperceived, but -if discovered in the attempt, they are immediately discharged. - -2nd. “The fillers-in,” or shovellers of dust into the sieves of -sifters, are in general any poor fellows who may be straggling about in -search of employment. They are sometimes, however, the grown-up boys -of dustmen, not yet permanently engaged by the contractor. These are -paid 2_s._ per day for their labour, but they are considered more as -casualty men, though it often happens, if “hands” are wanted, that they -are regularly engaged by the contractors, and become regular dustmen -for the remainder of their lives. - -3rd. The little fellows, the children of the dustmen, who follow their -mothers to the yard, and help them to pick rags, bones, &c., out of the -sieve and put them into the baskets, as soon as they are able to carry -a basket between two of them to the separate heaps, are paid 3_d._ or -4_d._ per day for this work by the hill-man. - -The wages of the dustmen have been increased within the last seven -years from 6_d._ per load to 8_d._ among the large contractors--the -“small masters,” however, still continue to pay 6_d._ per load. This -increase in the rate of remuneration was owing to the men complaining -to the commissioners that they were not able to live upon what they -earned at 6_d._; an enquiry was made into the truth of the men’s -assertion, and the result was that the commissioners decided upon -letting the contracts to such parties only as would undertake to pay a -fair price to their workmen. The contractors, accordingly, increased -the remuneration of the labourers; since then the principal masters -have paid 8_d._ per load to the collectors. It is right I should -add, that I could not hear--though I made special enquiries on the -subject--that the wages had been in any one instance reduced since -Free-trade has come into operation. - -The usual hours of labour vary according to the mode of payment. The -“collectors,” or men out with the cart, being paid by the load, work -as long as the light lasts; the “fillers-in” and sifters, on the other -hand, being paid by the day, work the ordinary hours, viz., from six to -six, with the regular intervals for meals. - -The summer is the worst time for all hands, for then the dust decreases -in quantity; the collectors, however, make up for the “slackness” at -this period by nightwork, and, being paid by the “piece” or load at the -dust business, are not discharged when their employment is less brisk. - -It has been shown that the dustmen who perambulate the streets usually -collect five loads in a day; this, at 8_d._ per load, leaves them -about 1_s._ 8_d._ each, and so makes their weekly earnings amount to -about 10_s._ per week. Moreover, there are the “perquisites” from the -houses whence they remove the dust; and further, the dust-collectors -are frequently employed at the night-work, which is always a distinct -matter from the dust-collecting, &c., and paid for independent of their -regular weekly wages, so that, from all I can gather, the average wages -of the men appear to be rather more than 15_s._ Some admitted to me, -that in busy times they often earned 25_s._ a week. - -Then, again, dustwork, as with the weaving of silk, is a kind of -family work. The husband, wife, and children (unfortunately) all work -at it. The consequence is, that the earnings of the whole have to be -added together in order to arrive at a notion of the aggregate gains. - -The following may therefore be taken as a fair average of the earnings -of a dustman and his family _when in full employment_. The elder boys -when able to earn 1_s._ a day set up for themselves, and do not allow -their wages to go into the common purse. - - £. _s._ _d._ £. _s._ _d._ - - Man, 5 loads per day, - or 30 loads per week, at - 4_d._ per load 0 10 0 - - Perquisites, or beer - money 0 2 9-1/2 - - Night-work for 2 nights - a week 0 5 0 - ------------ 0 17 9-1/2 - - Woman, or sifter, per - week, at 1_s._ per day 0 6 0 - - Perquisites, say 3_d._ a - day 0 1 6 - ------------ 0 7 6 - - Child, 3_d._ per day, - carrying rags, bones, &c. ------------ 0 1 6 - ----------------- - Total 1 6 9-1/2 - -These are the earnings, it should be borne in mind, of a family in full -employment. Perhaps it may be fairly said that the earnings of the -single men are, on an average, 15_s._ a week, and 1_l._ for the family -men all the year round. - -Now, when we remember that the wages of many agricultural labourers are -but 8_s._ a week, and the earnings of many needlewomen not 6_d._ a day, -it must be confessed that the remuneration of the dustmen, and even of -the dustwomen, is _comparatively_ high. This certainly is not due to -what Adam Smith, in his chapter on the Difference of Wages, terms the -“disagreeableness of the employment.” “The wages of labour,” he says, -“vary with the ease or hardship, the cleanliness or dirtiness, the -honourableness or dishonourableness, of the employment.” It will be -seen--when we come to treat of the nightmen--that the most offensive, -and perhaps the least honourable, of all trades, is far from ranking -among the best paid, as it should, if the above principle held good. -That the disagreeableness of the occupation may in a measure tend to -decrease the competition among the labourers, there cannot be the least -doubt, but that it will consequently induce, as political economy would -have us believe, a larger amount of wages to accrue to each of the -labourers, is certainly another of the many assertions of that science -which must be pronounced “not proven.” For the dustmen are paid, if -anything, less, and certainly not more, than the usual rate of payment -to the London labourers; and if the earnings rank high, as times go, it -is because all the members of the family, from the very earliest age, -are able to work at the business, and so add to the general gains. - -The dustmen are, generally speaking, an hereditary race; when -children they are reared in the dust-yard, and are habituated to the -work gradually as they grow up, after which, almost as a natural -consequence, they follow the business for the remainder of their lives. -These may be said to be born-and-bred dustmen. The numbers of the -regular men are, however, from time to time recruited from the ranks -of the many ill-paid labourers with which London abounds. When hands -are wanted for any special occasion an employer has only to go to any -of the dock-gates, to find at all times hundreds of starving wretches -anxiously watching for the chance of getting something to do, even at -the rate of 4_d._ per hour. As the operation of emptying a dust-bin -requires only the ability to handle a shovel, which every labouring man -can manage, all workmen, however unskilled, can at once engage in the -occupation; and it often happens that the men thus casually employed -remain at the calling for the remainder of their lives. There are no -houses of call whence the men are taken on when wanting work. There are -certainly public-houses, which are denominated houses of call, in the -neighbourhood of every dust-yard, but these are merely the drinking -shops of the men, whither they resort of an evening after the labour of -the day is accomplished, and whence they are furnished in the course of -the afternoon with beer; but such houses cannot be said to constitute -the dustman’s “labour-market,” as in the tailoring and other trades, -they being never resorted to as hiring-places, but rather used by the -men only when hired. If a master have not enough “hands” he usually -inquires among his men, who mostly know some who--owing, perhaps, to -the failure of their previous master in getting his usual contract--are -only casually employed at other places. Such men are immediately -engaged in preference to others; but if these cannot be found, the -contractors at once have recourse to the system already stated. - -The manner in which the dust is collected is very simple. The “filler” -and the “carrier” perambulate the streets with a heavily-built high -box cart, which is mostly coated with a thick crust of filth, and -drawn by a clumsy-looking horse. These men used, before the passing -of the late Street Act, to ring a dull-sounding bell so as to give -notice to housekeepers of their approach, but now they merely cry, in -a hoarse unmusical voice, “Dust oy-eh!” Two men accompany the cart, -which is furnished with a short ladder and two shovels and baskets. -These baskets one of the men fills from the dust-bin, and then helps -them alternately, as fast as they are filled, upon the shoulder of the -other man, who carries them one by one to the cart, which is placed -immediately alongside the pavement in front of the house where they are -at work. The carrier mounts up the side of the cart by means of the -ladder, discharges into it the contents of the basket on his shoulder, -and then returns below for the other basket which his mate has filled -for him in the interim. This process is pursued till all is cleared -away, and repeated at different houses till the cart is fully loaded; -then the men make the best of their way to the dust-yard, where they -shoot the contents of the cart on to the heap, and again proceed on -their regular rounds. - -The dustmen, in their appearance, very much resemble the waggoners -of the coal-merchants. They generally wear knee-breeches, with ancle -boots or gaiters, short dirty smockfrocks or coarse gray jackets, and -fantail hats. In one particular, however, they are at first sight -distinguishable from the coal-merchants’ men, for the latter are -invariably black from coal dust, while the dustmen, on the contrary, -are gray with ashes. - -In their personal appearance the dustmen are mostly tall stalwart -fellows; there is nothing sickly-looking about them, and yet a -considerable part of their time is passed in the yards and in the midst -of effluvia most offensive, and, if we believe “zymotic theorists,” as -unhealthy to those unaccustomed to them; nevertheless, the children, -who may be said to be reared in the yard and to have inhaled the stench -of the dust-heap with their first breath, are healthy and strong. It -is said, moreover, that during the plague in London the dustmen were -the persons who carted away the dead, and it remains a tradition among -the class to the present day, that not one of them died of the plague, -even during its greatest ravages. In Paris, too, it is well known, -that, during the cholera of 1849, the quarter of Belleville, where the -night-soil and refuse of the city is deposited, escaped the freest from -the pestilence; and in London the dustmen boast that, during both the -recent visitations of the cholera, they were altogether exempt from the -disease. “Look at that fellow, sir!” said one of the dust-contractors -to me, pointing to his son, who was a stout red-cheeked young man of -about twenty. “Do you see anything ailing about him? Well, he has been -in the yard since he was born. There stands my house just at the gate, -so you see he hadn’t far to travel, and when quite a child he used to -play and root away here among the dust all his time. I don’t think he -ever had a day’s illness in his life. The people about the yard are -all used to the smell and don’t complain about it. It’s all stuff and -nonsense, all this talk about dust-yards being unhealthy. I’ve never -done anything else all my days and I don’t think I look very ill. I -shouldn’t wonder now but what I’d be set down as being fresh from -the sea-side by those very fellows that write all this trash about a -matter that they don’t know just _that_ about;” and he snapped his -fingers contemptuously in the air, and, thrusting both hands into his -breeches pockets, strutted about, apparently satisfied that he had the -best of the argument. He was, in fact, a stout, jolly, red-faced man. -Indeed, the dustmen, as a class, appear to be healthy, strong men, and -extraordinary instances of longevity are common among them. I heard of -one dustman who lived to be 115 years; another, named Wood, died at -100; and the well-known Richard Tyrrell died only a short time back at -the advanced age of 97. The misfortune is, that we have no large series -of facts on this subject, so that the longevity and health of the -dustmen might be compared with those of other classes. - -In almost all their habits the Dustmen are similar to the -Costermongers, with the exception that they seem to want their cunning -and natural quickness, and that they have little or no predilection -for gaming. Costermongers, however, are essentially traders, and all -trade is a species of gambling--the risking of a certain sum of money -to obtain more; hence spring, perhaps, the gambling propensities of low -traders, such as costers, and Jew clothes-men; and hence, too, that -natural sharpness which characterizes the same classes. The dustmen, on -the contrary, have regular employment and something like regular wages, -and therefore rest content with what they can earn in their usual way -of business. - -Very few of them understand cards, and I could not learn that they ever -play at “pitch and toss.” I remarked, however, a number of parallel -lines such as are used for playing “shove halfpenny,” on a deal table -in the tap-room frequented by them. The great amusement of their -evenings seems to be, to smoke as many pipes of tobacco and drink as -many pots of beer as possible. - -I believe it will be found that all persons in the habit of driving -horses, such as cabmen, ’busmen, stage-coach drivers, &c., are -peculiarly partial to intoxicating drinks. The cause of this I -leave others to determine, merely observing that there would seem -to be two reasons for it: the first is, their frequent stopping at -public-houses to water or change their horses, so that the idea of -drinking is repeatedly suggested to their minds even if the practice -be not _expected_ of them; while the second reason is, that being -out continually in the wet, they resort to stimulating liquors as a -preventive to “colds” until at length a habit of drinking is formed. -Moreover, from the mere fact of passing continually through the -air, they are enabled to drink a greater quantity with comparative -impunity. Be the cause, however, what it may, the dustmen spend a -large proportion of their earnings in drink. There is always some -public-house in the neighbourhood of the dust-yard, where they obtain -credit from one week to another, and here they may be found every night -from the moment their work is done, drinking, and smoking their long -pipes--their principal amusement consisting in “chaffing” each other. -This “chaffing” consists of a species of scurrilous jokes supposed to -be given and taken in good part, and the noise and uproar occasioned -thereby increases as the night advances, and as the men get heated -with liquor. Sometimes the joking ends in a general quarrel; the next -morning, however, they are all as good friends as ever, and mutually -agree in laying the blame on the “cussed drink.” - -One-half, at least, of the dustmen’s earnings, is, I am assured, -expended in drink, both man and woman assisting in squandering their -money in this way. They usually live in rooms for which they pay -from 1_s._ 6_d._ to 2_s._ per week rent, three or four dust-men and -their wives frequently lodging in the same house. These rooms are -cheerless-looking, and almost unfurnished--and are always situate -in some low street or lane not far from the dust-yard. The men have -rarely any clothes but those in which they work. For their breakfast -the dustmen on their rounds mostly go to some cheap coffee-house, where -they get a pint or half-pint of coffee, taking their bread with them as -a matter of economy. Their midday meal is taken in the public-house, -and is almost always bread and cheese and beer, or else a saveloy or a -piece of fat pork or bacon, and at night they mostly “wind up” by deep -potations at their favourite house of call. - -There are many dustmen now advanced in years born and reared at the -East-end of London, who have never in the whole course of their -lives been as far west as Temple-bar, who know nothing whatever of -the affairs of the country, and who have never attended a place of -worship. As an instance of the extreme ignorance of these people, I -may mention that I was furnished by one of the contractors with the -address of a dustman whom his master considered to be one of the most -intelligent men in his employ. Being desirous of hearing his statement -from his own lips I sent for the man, and after some conversation -with him was proceeding to note down what he said, when the moment I -opened my note-book and took the pencil in my hand, he started up, -exclaiming,--“No, no! I’ll have none of that there work--I’m not such -a b---- fool as you takes me to be--I doesn’t understand it, I tells -you, and I’ll not have it, now that’s plain;”--and so saying he ran out -of the room, and descended the entire flight of stairs in two jumps. I -followed him to explain, but unfortunately the pencil was still in one -hand and the book in the other, and immediately I made my appearance -at the door he took to his heels, again with three others who seemed -to be waiting for him there. One of the most difficult points in my -labours is to make such men as these comprehend the object or use of my -investigations. - -Among 20 men whom I met in one yard, there were only five who could -read, and only two out of that five could write, even imperfectly. -These two are looked up to by their companions as prodigies of learning -and are listened to as oracles, on all occasions, being believed to -understand every subject thoroughly. It need hardly be added, however, -that their acquirements are of the most meagre character. - -The dustmen are very partial to a song, and always prefer one of the -doggrel street ballads, with what they call a “jolly chorus” in which, -during their festivities, they all join with stentorian voices. At the -conclusion there is usually a loud stamping of feet and rattling of -quart pots on the table, expressive of their approbation. - -The dustmen never frequent the twopenny hops, but sometimes make up -a party for the “theaytre.” They generally go in a body with their -wives, if married, and their “gals,” if single. They are always to -be found in the gallery, and greatly enjoy the melodramas performed -at the second-class minor theatres, especially if there be plenty of -murdering scenes in them. The Garrick, previous to its being burnt, was -a favourite resort of the East-end dustmen. Since that period they -have patronized the Pavilion and the City of London. - -The politics of the dustmen are on a par with their literary -attainments--they cannot be said to have any. I cannot say that they -are Chartists, for they have no very clear knowledge of what “the -charter” requires. They certainly have a confused notion that it is -something against the Government, and that the enactment of it would -make them all right; but as to the nature of the benefits which it -would confer upon them, or in what manner it would be likely to operate -upon their interest, they have not, as a body, the slightest idea. -They have a deep-rooted antipathy to the police, the magistrates, and -all connected with the administration of justice, looking upon them as -their natural enemies. They associate with none but themselves; and in -the public-houses where they resort there is a room set apart for the -special use of the “dusties,” as they are called, where no others are -allowed to intrude, except introduced by one of themselves, or at the -special desire of the majority of the party, and on such occasions the -stranger is treated with great respect and consideration. - -As to the morals of these people, it may easily be supposed that they -are not of an over-strict character. One of the contractors said to -me, “I’d just trust one of them as far as I could fling a bull by the -tail; _but then_,” he added, with a callousness that proved the laxity -of discipline among the men was due more to his neglect of his duty to -them than from any special perversity on their parts, “_that’s none of -my business; they do my work, and that’s all I want with them, and all -I care about_. You see they’re not like other people, they’re reared to -it. Their fathers before them were dustmen, and when lads they go into -the yard as sifters, and when they grow up they take to the shovel, -and go out with the carts. They learn all they know in the dust-yards, -and you may judge from that what their learning is likely to be. If -they find anything among the dust you may be sure that neither you -nor I will ever hear anything about it; ignorant as they are, they -know a little too much for that. They know, as well as here and there -one, where the dolly-shop is; _but, as I said before, that’s none of -my business. Let every one look out for themselves, as I do, and then -they need not care for any one_.” [With such masters professing such -principles--though it should be stated that the sentiments expressed -on this occasion are but similar to what I hear from the lower class -of traders every day--how can it be expected that these poor fellows -can be above the level of the mere beasts of burden that they use.] “As -to their women,” continued the master, “I don’t trouble my head about -such things. I believe the dustmen are as good to them as other men; -and I’m sure their wives would be as good as other women, if they only -had the chance of the best. But you see they’re all such fellows for -drink that they spend most of their money that way, and then starve the -poor women, and knock them about at a shocking rate, so that they have -the life of dogs, or worse. I don’t wonder at anything they do. Yes, -they’re all married, as far as I know; that is, they live together as -man and wife, though they’re not very particular, certainly, about the -ceremony. The fact is, a regular dustman don’t understand much about -such matters, and, I believe, don’t care much, either.” - -From all I could learn on this subject, it would appear that, for one -dustman that is married, 20 live with women, but remain constant to -them; indeed, both men and women abide faithfully by each other, and -for this reason--the woman earns nearly half as much as the man. If the -men and women were careful and prudent, they might, I am assured, live -well and comfortable; but by far the greater portion of the earnings -of both go to the publican, for I am informed, on competent authority, -that a dustman will not think of sitting down for a spree without his -woman. The children, as soon as they are able to go into the yard, help -their mothers in picking out the rags, bones, &c., from the sieve, -and in putting them in the basket. They are never sent to school, and -as soon as they are sufficiently strong are mostly employed in some -capacity or other by the contractor, and in due time become dustmen -themselves. Some of the children, in the neighbourhood of the river, -are mud-larks, and others are bone-grubbers and rag-gatherers, on a -small scale; neglected and thrown on their own resources at an early -age, without any but the most depraved to guide them, it is no wonder -to find that many of them turn thieves. To this state of the case there -are, however, some few exceptions. - -Some of the dustmen are prudent well-behaved men and have decent homes; -many of this class have been agricultural labourers, who by distress, -or from some other cause, have found their way to London. This was the -case with one whom I talked with: he had been a labourer in Essex, -employed by a farmer named Izzod, whom he spoke of as being a kind good -man. Mr. Izzod had a large farm on the Earl of Mornington’s estate, -and after he had sunk his capital in the improvement of the land, and -was about to reap the fruits of his labour and his money, the farmer -was ejected at a moment’s notice, beggared and broken-hearted. This -occurred near Roydon, in Essex. The labourer, finding it difficult to -obtain work in the country, came to London, and, discovering a cousin -of his engaged in a dust-yard, got employed through him at the same -place, where he remains to the present day. This man was well clothed, -he had good strong lace boots, gray worsted stockings, a stout pair of -corduroy breeches, a short smockfrock and fantail. He has kept himself -aloof, I am told, from the drunkenness and dissipation of the dustmen. -He says that many of the new hands that get to dustwork are mechanics -or people who have been “better off,” and that these get thinking about -what they have been, till to drown their care they take to drinking, -and often become, in the course of a year or so, worse than the “old -hands” who have been reared to the business and have “nothing at all to -think about.” - -Among the dustmen there is no “Society” nor “Benefit Club,” specially -devoted to the class--no provident institution whence they can obtain -“relief” in the event of sickness or accident. The consequence is that, -when ill or injured, they are obliged to obtain letters of admission -to some of the hospitals, and there remain till cured. In cases of -total incapacity for labour, their invariable refuge is the workhouse; -indeed they look forward (whenever they foresee at all) to this asylum -as their resting-place in old age, with the greatest equanimity, and -talk of it as “the house” par excellence, or as “the big house,” “the -great house,” or “the old house.” There are, however, scattered about -in every part of London numerous benefit clubs made up of working-men -of every description, such as Old Friends, Odd Fellows, Foresters, and -Birmingham societies, and with some one or other of these the better -class of dustmen are connected. The general rule, however, is, that -the men engaged in this trade belong to no benefit club whatever, and -that in the season of their adversity they are utterly unprovided for, -and consequently become burdens to the parishes wherein they happen to -reside. - -I visited a large dust-yard at the east end of London, for the purpose -of getting a statement from one of the men. My informant was, at the -time of my visit, shovelling the sifted soil from one of the lesser -heaps, and, by a great effort of strength and activity, pitching each -shovel-full to the top of a lofty mound, somewhat resembling a pyramid. -Opposite to him stood a little woman, stoutly made, and with her arms -bare above the elbow; she was his partner in the work, and was pitching -shovel-full for shovel-full with him to the summit of the heap. She -wore an old soiled cotton gown, open in front, and tucked up behind in -the fashion of the last century. She had clouts of old rags tied round -her ancles to prevent the dust from getting into her shoes, a sort of -coarse towel fastened in front for an apron, and a red handkerchief -bound tightly round her head. In this trim she worked away, and not -only kept pace with the man, but often threw two shovels for his one, -although he was a tall, powerful fellow. She smiled when she saw me -noticing her, and seemed to continue her work with greater assiduity. I -learned that she was deaf, and spoke so indistinctly that no stranger -could understand her. She had also a defect in her sight, which latter -circumstance had compelled her to abandon the sifting, as she could not -well distinguish the various articles found in the dust-heap. The poor -creature had therefore taken to the shovel, and now works with it every -day, doing the labour of the strongest men. - -From the man above referred to I obtained the following -statement:--“Father vos a dustie;--vos at it all his life, and -grandfather afore him for I can’t tell how long. Father vos allus a rum -’un;--sich a beggar for lush. Vhy I’m blowed if he vouldn’t lush as -much as half-a-dozen on ’em can lush now; somehow the dusties hasn’t -got the stuff in ’em as they used to have. A few year ago the fellers -’u’d think nothink o’ lushin avay for five or six days without niver -going anigh their home. I niver vos at a school in all my life; I don’t -know what it’s good for. It may be wery well for the likes o’ you, but -I doesn’t know it ’u’d do a dustie any good. You see, ven I’m not out -with the cart, I digs here all day; and p’raps I’m up all night, and -digs avay agen the next day. Vot does I care for reading, or anythink -of that there kind, ven I gets home arter my vork? I tell you vot I -likes, though! vhy, I jist likes two or three pipes o’ baccer, and a -pot or two of good heavy and a song, and then I tumbles in with my -Sall, and I’m as happy as here and there von. That there Sall of mine’s -a stunner--a riglar stunner. There ain’t never a voman can sift a heap -quickerer nor my Sall. Sometimes she yarns as much as I does; the only -thing is, she’s sitch a beggar for lush, that there Sall of mine, and -then she kicks up sitch jolly rows, you niver see the like in your -life. That there’s the only fault, as I know on, in Sall; but, barring -that, she’s a hout-and-houter, and worth a half-a-dozen of t’ other -sifters--pick ’em out vare you likes. No, we ain’t married ’zactly, -though it’s all one for all that. I sticks to Sall, and Sall sticks -to I, and there’s an end on’t:--vot is it to any von? I rec’lects -a-picking the rags and things out of mother’s sieve, when I were a -young ’un, and a putting ’em all in the heap jist as it might be there. -I vos allus in a dust-yard. I don’t think I could do no how in no other -place. You see I vouldn’t be ’appy like; I only knows how to vork at -the dust ’cause I’m used to it, and so vos father afore me, and I’ll -stick to it as long as I can. I yarns about half-a-bull [2_s._ 6_d._] a -day, take one day with another. Sall sometimes yarns as much, and ven I -goes out at night I yarns a bob or two more, and so I gits along pretty -tidy; sometimes yarnin more and sometimes yarnin less. I niver vos sick -as I knows on; I’ve been queerish of a morning a good many times, but -I doesn’t call that sickness; it’s only the lush and nothink more. The -smells nothink at all, ven you gits used to it. Lor’ bless you! you’d -think nothink on it in a veek’s time,--no, no more nor I do. There’s -tventy on us vorks here--riglar. I don’t think there’s von on ’em ’cept -Scratchey Jack can read, but he can do it stunning; he’s out vith the -cart now, but he’s the chap as can patter to you as long as he likes.” - -Concerning the capital and income of the London dust business, the -following estimate may be given as to the amount of property invested -in and accruing to the trade. - -It has been computed that there are 90 contractors, large and small; -of these upwards of two-thirds, or about 35, may be said to be in a -considerable way of business, possessing many carts and horses, as well -as employing a large body of people; some yards have as many as 150 -hands connected with them. The remaining 55 masters are composed of -“small men,” some of whom are known as “running dustmen,” that is to -say, persons who collect the dust without any sanction from the parish; -but the number belonging to this class has considerably diminished -since the great deterioration in the price of “brieze.” Assuming, then, -that the great and little master dustmen employ on an average between -six and seven carts each, we have the following statement as to the - - -CAPITAL OF THE LONDON DUST TRADE. - - 600 Carts, at 20_l._ each £12,000 - 600 Horses, at 25_l._ each 15,000 - 600 Sets of harness, at 2_l._ per set 1,200 - 600 Ladders, at 5_s._ each 150 - 1200 Baskets, at 2_s._ each 120 - 1200 Shovels, at 2_s._ each 120 - ------- - Being a total capital of £28,590 - ------- - -If, therefore, we assert that the capital of this trade is between -25,000_l._ and 30,000_l._ in value, we shall not be far wrong either -way. - -Of the annual income of the same trade, it is almost impossible to -arrive at any positive results; but, in the absence of all authentic -information on the subject, we may make the subjoined conjecture. - - -INCOME OF THE LONDON DUST TRADE. - - Sum paid to contractors for the removal - of dust from the 176 metropolitan - parishes, at 200_l._ each parish £35,200 - - Sum obtained for 900,000 loads of - dust, at 2_s._ 6_d._ per load 112,500 - -------- - £147,700 - -------- - -Thus it would appear that the total income of the dust trade may be -taken at between 145,000_l._ and 150,000_l._ per annum. - -Against this we have to set the yearly out-goings of the business, -which may be roughly estimated as follows:-- - - -EXPENDITURE OF THE LONDON DUST TRADE. - - Wages of 1800 labourers, at 10_s._ a - week each (including sifters and carriers) £46,800 - Keep of 600 horses, at 10_s._ a week each 15,600 - Wear and tear of stock in trade 4000 - Rent for 90 yards, at 100_l._ a year each - (large and small) 9000 - ------- - £75,400 - ------- - -The above estimates give us the following aggregate results:-- - - Total yearly incomings of the London dust trade £147,700 - Total yearly out-goings 75,400 - -------- - Total yearly profit £72,300 - -------- - -Hence it would appear that the profits of the dust-contractors are very -nearly at the rate of 100_l._ per cent. on their expenditure. I do -not think I have over estimated the incomings, or under estimated the -out-goings; at least I have striven to avoid doing so, in order that no -injustice might be done to the members of the trade. - -This aggregate profit, when divided among the 90 contractors, will make -the clear gains of each master dustman amount to about 800_l._ per -annum: of course some derive considerably more than this amount, and -some considerably less. - - -OF THE LONDON SEWERAGE AND SCAVENGERY. - -The subject I have now to treat--principally as regards street-labour, -but generally in its sanitary, social, and economical bearings--may -really be termed vast. It is of the cleansing of a capital city, with -its thousands of miles of streets and roads _on_ the surface, and its -thousands of miles of sewers and drains _under_ the surface of the -earth. And first let me deal with the subject in a historical point of -view. - -Public scavengery or street-cleansing, from the earliest periods of -our history, since municipal authority regulated the internal economy -of our cities, has been an object of some attention. In the records of -all our civic corporations may be found bye-laws, or some equivalent -measure, to enforce the cleansing of the streets. But these regulations -were little enforced. It was ordered that the streets should be swept, -but often enough men were not employed by the authorities to sweep -them; until after the great fire of London, and in many parts for years -after that, the tradesman’s apprentice swept the dirt from the front -of his master’s house, and left it in the street, to be removed at the -leisure of the scavenger. This was in the streets most famous for the -wealth and commercial energy of the inhabitants. The streets inhabited -by the poor, until about the beginning of the present century, were -rarely swept at all. The unevenness of the pavement, the accumulation -of wet and mud in rainy weather, the want of foot-paths, and sometimes -even of grates and kennels, made Cowper, in one of his letters, -describe a perambulation of some of these streets as “going by water.” - -Even this state of things was, however, an improvement. In the accounts -of the London street-broils and fights, from the reign of Henry III., -more especially during the war of the Roses, down to the civil war -which terminated in the beheading of Charles I., mention is more or -less made of the combatants having availed themselves of the shelter -of the rubbish in the streets. These mounds of rubbish were then kinds -of street-barricades, opposing the progress of passengers, like the -piles of overturned omnibuses and other vehicles of the modern French -street-combatants. There is no doubt that in the older times these -mounds were composed, first, of the earth dug out for the foundation of -some building, or the sinking of some well, or (later on) the formation -of some drain; for these works were often long in hand, not only from -the interruptions of civil strife and from want of funds, but from -indifference, owing to the long delay in their completion, and were -often altogether abandoned. After dusk the streets of the capital of -England could not be traversed without lanterns or torches. This was -the case until the last 40 or 50 years in nearly all the smaller towns -of England, but there the darkness was the principal obstacle; in the -inferior parts of “Old London,” however, there were the additional -inconveniences of broken limbs and robbery. - -It would be easy to adduce instances from the olden writers in proof of -all the above statements, but it seems idle to cite proofs of what is -known to all. - -The care of the streets, however, as regards the removal of the dirt, -or, as the weather might be, the dust and mud, seems never to have -been much of a national consideration. It was left to the corporations -and the parishes. Each of these had its own especial arrangements -for the collection and removal of dirt in its own streets; and as -each parochial or municipal system generally differed in some respect -or other, taken as a whole, there was no one general mode or system -adopted. To all this the street-management of our own days, in the -respect of scavengery, and, as I shall show, of sewerage, presents -a decided improvement. This improvement in street-management is not -attributable to any public agitation--to any public, and, far less, -national manifestation of feeling. It was debated sometimes in courts -of Common Council, in ward and parochial meetings, but the public -generally seem to have taken no express interest in the matter. The -improvement seems to have established itself gradually from the -improved tastes and habits of the people. - -Although _generally_ left to the local powers, the subject of -street-cleansing and management, however, has not been _entirely_ -overlooked by Parliament. Among parliamentary enactments is the -measure best known as “Michael Angelo Taylor’s Act,” passed early in -the present century, which requires all householders every morning -to remove from the front of their premises any snow which may have -fallen during the night, &c., &c.; the late Police Acts also embrace -subordinately the subject of street-management. - -On the other hand the sewers have long been the object of national -care. “The daily great damages and losses which have happened in many -and divers parts of this realm” (I give the spirit of the preamble of -several Acts of Parliament), “as well by the reason of the outrageous -flowings, surges, and course of the river in and upon the marsh -grounds and other low places, heretofore through public wisdom won -and made profitable for the great commonwealth of this realm, as also -by occasion of land waters and other outrageous springs in and upon -meadows, pastures, and other low grounds adjoining to rivers, floods, -and other water-courses,” caused parliamentary attention to be given to -the subject. - -Until towards the latter part of the last century, however, the streets -even of the better order were often flooded during heavy and continuous -rains, owing to the sewers and drains having been choked, so that the -sewage forced its way through the gratings into the streets and yards, -flooding all the underground apartments and often the ground floors of -the houses, as well as the public thoroughfares with filth. - -It is not many months since the neighbourhood of so modern a locality -as Waterloo-bridge was flooded in this manner, and boats were used -in the Belvidere and York-roads. On the 1st of August, 1846, after a -tremendous storm of thunder, hail, and rain, miles of the capital were -literally under water; hundreds of publicans’ beer-cellars contained -far more water than beer, and the damage done was enormous. These facts -show that though much has been accomplished towards the efficient -sewerage of the metropolis, much remains to be accomplished still. - -The first statute on the subject of the public sewerage was as early -as the 9th year of the reign of Henry III. There were enactments, -also, in most of the succeeding reigns, but they were all partial and -conflicting, and related more to local desiderata than to any system -of sewerage for the public benefit, until the reign of Henry VIII., -when the “Bill of Sewers” was passed (in 1531). This act provided for a -more general system of sewerage in the cities and towns of the kingdom, -requiring the main channels to be of certain depths and dimensions, -according to the localities, situation, &c. In many parts of the -country the sewerage is still carried on according to the provisions in -the act of Henry VIII., but those provisions were modified, altered, or -“explained,” by many subsequent statutes. - -Any uniformity which might have arisen from the observance of the -same principles of sewerage was effectually checked by the measures -adopted in London, more especially during the last 100 years. As -the metropolis increased new sewerage became necessary, and new -local bodies were formed for its management. These were known as -the Commissions of Sewers, and the members of those bodies acted -independently one of another, under the authority of their own Acts of -Parliament, each having its own board, engineers, clerks, officers, -and workmen. Each commission was confined to its own district, and -did what was accounted best for its own district with little regard -to any general plan of sewerage, so that London was, and in a great -measure is, sewered upon different principles, as to the size of the -sewers and drains, the rates of inclination, &c. &c. In 1847 there -were eight of these districts and bodies: the City of London, the -Tower Hamlets, Saint Katherine’s, Poplar and Blackwall, Holborn and -Finsbury, Westminster and part of Middlesex, Surrey and Kent, and -Greenwich. In 1848 these several bodies were concentrated by act of -parliament, and entitled the “Metropolitan Commission of Sewers;” but -the City of London, as appears to be the case with every parliamentary -measure affecting the metropolis, presents an exception, as it retains -a separate jurisdiction, and is not under the control of the general -commissioners, to whom parliament has given authority over such matters. - -The management of the metropolitan scavengery and sewerage, therefore, -differs in this respect. The scavengery is committed to the care of -the several parishes, each making its own contract; the sewerage is -consigned by Parliament to a body of commissioners. In both instances, -however, the expenses are paid out of local rates. - -I shall now proceed to treat of each of these subjects separately, -beginning with the cleansing of the streets. - - -OF THE STREETS OF LONDON. - -There are now three modes of pavement in the streets of the metropolis. - -1. _The stone pavement_ (commonly composed of Aberdeen granite). - -2. _The macadamized pavement_, or rather _road_. - -3. _The wood pavement._ - -The stone pavement has generally, in the several towns of England, -been composed of whatever material the quarries or rocks of the -neighbourhood supplied, limestone being often thus used. In some -places, where there were no quarries available, the stones of a river -or rivulet-side were used, but these were rounded and slippery, -and often formed but a rugged pathway. For London pavement, the -neighbourhood not being rich in stone quarries, granite has usually -been brought by water from Scotland, and a small quantity from Guernsey -for the pavement of the streets. The stone pavement is made by the -placing of the granite stones, hewn and shaped ready for the purpose, -side by side, with a foundation of concrete. The concrete now used for -the London street-pavement is Thames ballast, composed of shingles, or -small stones, and mixed with lime, &c. - -Macadamization was not introduced into the _streets_ of London until -about 25 years ago. Before that, it had been carried to what was -accounted a great degree of perfection on many of the principal mail -and coach roads. Some 50 miles on the Great North Road, or that between -London and Carlisle, were often pointed out as an admirable specimen of -road-making on Mac Adam’s principles. This road was well known in the -old coaching days as Leming-lane, running from Boroughbridge to Greta -Bridge, in Yorkshire. - -The first thoroughfare in London which was macadamized, a word adapted -from the name of Sir W. Mac Adam, the originator or great improver of -the system, was St. James’s-square; after that, some of the smaller -streets in the aristocratic parishes of St. James and St. George were -thus paved, and then, but not without great opposition, Piccadilly. The -opposition to the macadamizing of the latter thoroughfare assumed many -forms. Independently of the conflicting statements as to extravagance -and economy, it was urged by the opponents, that the dust and dirt -of the new style of paving would cause the street to be deserted by -the aristocracy--that the noiselessness of the traffic would cause -the deaths of the deaf and infirm--that the aristocracy promoted -this new-fangled street-making, that they might the better “sleep o’ -nights,” regardless of all else. One writer especially regretted that -the Duke of Queensberry, popularly known as “Old Q.,” who resided at -the western end of Piccadilly, had not lived to enjoy, undisturbed -by vulgar noises, his bed of down, until it was his hour to rise and -take his bath of perfumed milk! In short, there was all the fuss and -absurdity which so often characterise local contests. - -The macadamized street is made by a layer of stones, broken small -and regular in size, and spread evenly over the road, so that the -pressure and friction of the traffic will knead, grind, crush, and -knit them into one compact surface. Until road-making became better -understood, or until the early part of the present century, the -roads even in the suburbs immediately connected with London, such as -Islington, Kingsland, Stoke Newington, and Hackney, were “repaired -when they wanted it.” If there were a “rut,” or a hole, it was filled -up or covered over with stones, and as the drivers usually avoided -such parts, for the sake of their horses’ feet, another rut was -speedily formed alongside of the original one. Under the old system, -road-mending was patch-work; defects were sought to be remedied, but -there was little or no knowledge of constructing or of reconstructing -the surface as a whole. - -The wood pavement came last, and was not established, even partially, -until eleven or twelve years ago. One of the earliest places so paved -was the Old Bailey, in order that the noise of the street-traffic might -be deadened in the Criminal Courts. The same plan was adopted alongside -some of the churches, and other public buildings, where external -quietude, or, at any rate, diminished noise, was desired. At the first, -there were great complaints made, and frequent expostulations addressed -to the editors of the newspapers, as to the slipperiness of the wooden -ways. The wood pavement is formed of blocks of wood, generally deal, -fitted to one another by grooves, by joints, or by shape, for close -adjustment. They are placed on the road over a body of concrete, in the -same way as granite. - -“In constructing roads, or rather streets, through towns or cities, -where the amount of traffic is considerable, it will be found -desirable,” says Mr. Law, in his ‘Treatise on the Constructing -and Repairing of Roads,’ “to pave their surface. The advantages -belonging to pavements in such situations over macadamized roads are -considerable; where the latter are exposed to an incessant and heavy -traffic, their surface becomes rapidly worn, rendering constant repairs -requisite, which are not only attended with very heavy expense, but -also render the road very unpleasant for being travelled upon while -being done; they also require much more attention in the way of -scraping or sweeping, and in raking in ruts. And some difficulty would -be experienced in towns to find places in which the materials, which -would be constantly wanted for repairing the road, could be deposited. -In dry weather the macadamized road would always be dusty, and in wet -weather it would be covered with mud. The only advantage which such a -road really possesses over a pavement is the less noise produced by -carriages in passing over it; but this advantage is very small when the -pavement is properly laid.” - -Concerning wood pavements the same gentleman says, “Of late years -wood has been introduced as a material for paving streets, and has -been rather extensively employed both in Russia and America. It has -been tried in various parts of London, and generally with small -success, the cause of its failure being identical with the cause of -the enormous sums being spent annually in the repairs of the streets -generally, namely, the want of a proper foundation; a want which was -sooner felt with wood than with granite, in consequence of the less -weight and inertia of the wood. The comfort resulting from the use -of wooden pavement, both to those who travelled, and those who lived -in the streets, from the diminished jolting and noise, was so great, -that it is just matter of surprise that so little care was taken in -forming that which a very little consideration would have shown to be -indispensable to its success, namely, a good foundation. Slipperiness -of its surface, in particular states of the weather, was also found -to be a disadvantage belonging to wooden pavement; but means might be -devised which would render its surface at all times safe, and afford -a secure footing for horses. As regards durability, it has scarcely -been used for a sufficient period to allow a comparison being made with -other materials, but from the result of some observations communicated -by Mr. Hope to the Scottish Society of Arts, it appears that wooden -blocks when placed with the end of the grain exposed, wear _less than -granite_. At first sight, this result might appear questionable, -but it is a well-ascertained fact that, where wood and iron move in -contact in machinery, the iron generally wears more rapidly than the -wood, the reason appearing to be, that the surface of the wood soon -becomes covered with particles of dust and grit, which become partially -embedded in it, and, while they serve to protect the wood, convert its -surface into a species of file, which rapidly wears away whatever it -rubs against.” - -Such then are the different modes of constructing the London roads -or streets. I shall now endeavour to show the relative length, -and relative cost of the streets thus severally prepared for the -commercial, professional, and pleasurable transit of the metropolis. - -The comparative extent of the macadamized, of the stone, and of the -wood pavement of the streets of the metropolis has not as yet been -ascertained, for no general account has appeared condensing the -reports, returns, accounts, &c., of the several specific bodies of -management into one grand total. - -It is, however, possible to arrive at an approximation as to -the comparative extent I have spoken of; and in this attempt at -approximation, in the absence of all means of a definite statistical -computation, I have had the assistance of an experienced and practical -surveyor, familiar with the subject. - -Macadamization prevails beyond the following boundaries:-- - -North of the New-road and of its extension, as the City-road, and -westward of the New-road’s junction with Lisson-grove. - -Westward of Park-lane and of the West-end parks. - -Eastward of Brick-lane (Spitalfields) and of the Whitechapel -High-street. - -Southward (on the Surrey side) from the New-cut and Long-lane, -Bermondsey, and both in the eastern and western direction of Southwark, -Lambeth, and the other southern parishes. - -Stone pavement, on the other hand, prevails in the district which may -be said to be within this boundary, bearing down upon the Thames in all -directions. - -It is, doubtlessly, the fact that in both the districts thus indicated -exceptions to the general rule may prevail--that in one, for instance, -there may be some miles of macadamized way, and in the other some miles -of granite pavements; but such exceptions, I am told by a Commissioner -of Paving, may fairly be dismissed as balancing each other. - -The wooden pavement, I am informed on the same authority, does not -now comprise five miles of the London thoroughfares; little notice, -therefore, need be taken of it. - -The miles of streets in the City in which stone only affords the street -medium of locomotion are 50. The stone pavement in the localities -outside of this area are six times, or approaching to seven times, -the extent of that in the City. I have no actual admeasurement to -demonstrate this point, for none exists, and no private individual can -offer to measure hundreds of miles of streets in order to ascertain -the composition of their surface. But the calculation has been made -for me by a gentleman thoroughly conversant with the subject, and -well acquainted with the general relative proportion of the defined -districts, parishes, and boroughs of the metropolis. - -We have thus the following result, as regards the inner police -district, or Metropolis Proper:-- - - Miles. - Granite paved streets 400 - Macadamized ditto (or roads) 1350 - Wood ditto 5 - ---- - Total 1755 - -This may appear a disproportionate estimate, but when it is remembered -that the inner police district of the metropolis extends as far as -Hampstead, Tooting, Brentford, and Greenwich, it will be readily -perceived that the relative proportions of the macadamized and paved -roads are much about the same as is here stated. - -As to the cost of these several roads, I will, before entering upon -that part of the subject, state the prices of the different materials -used in their manufacture. - -Aberdeen granite is now 1_l._ 5_s._ per ton, delivered, and prepared -for paving, or, as it is often called, “pitching.” A ton of “seven -inch” granite, that is, granite sunk seven inches in the ground, will -cover from two and three-quarters to three square yards, superficial -measure, or nine feet per yard. The cost, labour included, is, -therefore, from 9_s._ to 12_s._ the square yard. This appears very -costly; but in some of the more quiet streets, such as those in the -immediate neighbourhood of Golden and Fitzroy-squares, a good granite -pavement will endure for 20 years, requiring little repair. In other -streets, such as Cheapside, for instance, it lasts from three to -four years, without repavement being necessary, supposing the best -construction has been originally adopted. - -For macadamized streets, where there is a traffic like that of -Tottenham Court-road, three layers of small broken granite a year are -necessary; the cost of this repavement being about 2_s._ 6_d._ a yard -superficial measure. The repairs and relayings on macadamized roads of -regular traffic range from 4_s._ to 6_s._ 6_d._ yearly, the square yard. - -The wood pavement, which endures, with a trifling outlay for repairs, -for about three years, costs, on an average, 11_s._ the square yard. - -The concrete used as a foundation in this street-construction costs -4_s._ 6_d._ a cube yard, or 27 feet, by which admeasurement it is -always calculated. A cube yard of Thames ballast weighs about 1-1/4 ton. - -The average cost of street-building, new, taking an average breadth, or -about ten yards, from footpath to footpath, is then-- - - Per Mile. - £. _s._ _d._ - Granite built 96 0 0 - Macadamized 44 0 0 - Wood 88 0 0 - -Or, as a total, - - 400 miles of granite paved streets - at £96 per mile 38,400 0 0 - 1350 macadamized ditto, at - £44 per mile 59,400 0 0 - 5 wood ditto, at £88 per mile 440 0 0 - ---------------- - 98,240 0 0 - -This, then (about £100,000), is the _original cost_ of the roads of the -metropolis. - -The cost of repairs, &c., annually, is shown by the amount of the -paving rate, which may be taken as an average. - - £ _s._ _d._ - 400 miles of granite, at 20_s._ per - mile 400 0 0 - 1350 macadamized ditto, at - £13 4_s._ per mile 17,820 0 0 - 5 wood[13] ditto, at 20_s._ - per mile 5 0 0 - ---------------- - Total 18,225 0 0 - -According to a “General Survey of the Metropolitan Highways,” by Mr. -Thomas Hughes, the principal roads leading out of London are:-- - -1. _The Cambridge Road_, from Shoreditch through Kingsland. - -2. _The Epping and Chelmsford Roads_, from Whitechapel, through Bow and -Stratford. - -3. _The Barking Road_, along the Commercial Road past Limehouse. - -4. _The Dover Road_, from the Elephant and Castle, across Blackheath. - -5. _The Brighton Roads_, (_a_) through Croydon, (_b_) through Sutton. - -6. _The Guildford Road_, along the Westminster Road through Battersea -and Wandsworth. - -7. _The Staines, or Great Western Road_, from Knightsbridge through -Brentford. - -8. _The Amersham and Aylesbury Road_, along the Harrow Road, and -through Harrow-on-the-Hill. - -9. _The St. Alban’s Road_, along the Edgeware Road through Elstree. - -10. _The Oxford Road_, from Bayswater through Ealing. - -11. _The Great Holyhead Road._ - } From Islington, by and through Barnet. -12. _The Great North Road._ - -As to the amount of resistance to traction offered by different kinds -of pavement, or the same pavement under different circumstances, the -following are the general results of the experiments made by M. Morin, -at the expense of the French Government:-- - -1st. The traction is directly proportional to the load, and inversely -proportional to the diameter of the wheel. - -2nd. Upon a paved, or hard macadamized road, the resistance is -independent of the width of the tire, when it exceeds from three to -four inches. - -3rd. At a walking pace the traction is the same, under the same -circumstances, for carriages with springs and without them. - -4th. Upon hard macadamized, and upon paved roads, the traction -increases with the velocity: the increments of traction being directly -proportional to the increments of velocity above the velocity 3·28 -feet per second, or about 2-1/4 miles per hour. The equal increment of -traction thus due to each equal increment of velocity is less as the -road is more smooth, and the carriage less rigid or better hung. - -5th. Upon soft roads of earth, or sand, or turf, or roads fresh and -thickly gravelled, the traction is independent of the velocity. - -6th. Upon a well-made and compact pavement of hewn stones, the traction -at a walking pace is not more than three-fourths of that upon the best -macadamized roads under similar circumstances; at a trotting pace it is -equal to it. - -7th. The destruction of the road is in all cases greater, as the -diameters of the wheels are less, and it is greater in carriages -without than with springs. - -In Sir H. Parnell’s book on roads, p. 73, we are told that Sir John -Macneill, by means of an instrument invented by himself for measuring -the tractive force required on different kinds of road, obtained the -following general results as to the power requisite to move a ton -weight under ordinary circumstances, at a very low velocity. - - -------------------------------------------+------------------ - | Force, in - Description of Road. | pounds, required - | to move a ton. - -------------------------------------------+------------------ - On a well-made pavement | 33 - | - On a road made with six inches of } | - broken stone of great hardness, } | - laid either on a foundation of large } | 46 - stones, set in the form of a pavement, } | - or upon a bottoming of concrete } | - | - On an old flint road, or a road made } | - with a thick coating of broken } | 65 - stone, laid on earth } | - | - On a road made with a thick coating } | - of gravel, laid on earth } | 147 - -------------------------------------------+------------------ - -In the same work the relative degrees of resistance to traction on the -several kinds of roads are thus expressed:-- - - On a timber surface 2 - On a paved road 2 - On a well-made broken stone road, in a - dry clean state 5 - On a well-made broken stone road, - covered with dust 8 - On a well-made broken stone road, wet - and muddy 10 - On a gravel or flint road, in a dry - clean state 13 - On a gravel or flint road, in a wet - muddy state 32 - - -OF THE TRAFFIC OF LONDON. - -I have shown (at p. 159, vol. ii.) that the number of miles of streets -included in the Inner District of the Metropolitan Police is 1750. - -Mr. Peter Cunningham, in his excellent “Handbook of Modern London,” -tells us that “the streets of the Metropolis, if put together, would -measure 3000 miles in length;” but he does not inform us what limits -he assigns to the said metropolis; it would seem, however, that he -refers to the Outer Police District: and in another place he cites the -following as the extent of some of the principal thoroughfares:-- - - New-road 5115 yds. long, or nearly 3 miles. - Oxford-street 2304 „ „ 1-1/2 „ - Regent-street 1730 „ „ 1 „ - Piccadilly 1690 „ - City-road 1690 „ - Strand 1396 „ - -Of the two great lines of streets parallel to the river, the one -extending along Oxford-street, Holborn, Cheapside, Cornhill, and -Whitechapel to the Regent’s-canal, Mile-end, is, says Mr. McCulloch, -“above six miles in length;” while that which stretches from -Knightsbridge along Piccadilly, the Haymarket, Pall-mall East, the -Strand, Fleet-street, Watling-street, Eastcheap, Tower-street, and so -on by Ratcliffe-highway to the West India Docks, is, according to the -same authority, about equal in length to the other. Mr. Weale asserts, -as we have already seen, that the greatest length of street from -east to west is about fourteen miles, and from north to south about -thirteen miles. The number of streets in London is said to be 10,000, -though upon what authority the statement is made, and within what -compass it is meant to be applied, I have not been able to ascertain. -It is calculated, however, that there are 1900 miles of gas “mains” -laid down in London and the suburbs; so that adopting the estimate of -the Commissioners of Police, or 1760 miles of streets, within an area -of about 90 square miles, we cannot go far wrong. - -Now, as to the amount of _traffic_ that takes place daily over this -vast extent of paved road, it is almost impossible to predicate -anything definitely. As yet there are only a few crude facts existing -in connection with the subject. All we know is, that the London streets -are daily traversed by 1500 omnibuses--such was the number of drivers -licensed by the Metropolitan Commissioners in 1850--and about 3000 -cabs--the number of drivers licensed in 1850 was 5000, but many “cabs” -have a day and night driver as well, and the Return from the Stamp and -Tax Office cited below, represents the number of licensed cabriolets, -in 1849, at 2846: besides these public conveyances, there are the -private carriages and carts, so that the metropolitan vehicles may be -said to employ altogether upwards of 20,000 horses. - -In the _Morning Chronicle_ I said, when treating of the London -omnibus-drivers and conductors:--“The average journey, as regards the -distance travelled by each omnibus, is six miles, and that distance is, -in some cases, travelled twelve times a day, or as it is called, ‘six -there and six back.’ Some omnibuses perform the journey only ten times -a day, and some, but a minority, a less number of times. Now, taking -the average distance travelled by each omnibus at between 45 and 50 -miles a day--and this, I am assured, on the best authority, is within -the mark, while 60 miles a day might exceed it--and computing the -omnibuses running daily at 1500, we find ‘a travel,’ as it was worded -to me, of upwards of 70,000 miles daily, or a yearly ‘travel’ of more -than 25,000,000 miles; an extent which is upwards of a thousand times -more than the circumference of the earth; and that this estimate in no -way exceeds the truth is proved by the sum annually paid to the Excise -for ‘mileage,’ which amounts on an average to 9_l._ each ’bus’ per -month, or collectively to 162,000_l._ per annum, and this, at 1-1/2_d._ -per mile (the rate of duty charged), gives 25,920,000 miles as the -aggregate distance travelled by the entire number of omnibuses every -year through the London streets.” - -The distance travelled by the London cabs may be estimated as -follows:--Each driver may be said to receive on an average 10_s._ a -day all the year through. Now, the number of licences prove that there -are 5000 cab-drivers in London, and as each of these must travel at -the least ten miles in order to obtain the daily 10_s._, we may safely -assert that the whole 5000 go over 50,000 miles of ground a day, or, in -round numbers, 18,250,000 miles in the course of the year. - -According to a return obtained by Mr. Charles Cochrane from the Stamp -and Tax Office, Somerset House, there were in the metropolis, in -1849-50, the following number of horses:-- - - Private carriage, job, and cart horses (in - London) 3,683 - Ditto (in Westminster) 6,339 - Cabriolets licensed 2846 (having two - horses each) 5,692 - Omnibuses licensed 1350 (four horses - each) 5,500 - ------ - Total number of horses in the metropolis 21,214 - ------ - -I am assured, by persons well acquainted with the omnibus trade, -that the number of omnibus horses here cited is far too low--as many -proprietors employ ten horses to each “bus,” and none less than -six. Hence we may fairly assume that there are at the least 25,000 -horses at work every day in the streets of London. Besides the horses -above mentioned, it is estimated that the number daily coming to the -metropolis from the surrounding parts is 3000; and calculating that -each of the 25,000, which may be said to be at work out of the entire -number, travels eight miles a day, the aggregate length of ground gone -over by the whole would amount to 200,000 miles per diem, or about -70,000,000 miles throughout the year. There are, as we have seen, -upwards of 1750 miles of streets in London. It follows, therefore, that -each piece of pavement would be traversed no less than 40,000 times per -annum, or upwards of a hundred times a day, by some horse or vehicle. - -As I said before, the facts that have been collected concerning the -absolute traffic of the several parts of London are of the most meagre -description. The only observations of any character that have been made -upon the subject are--as far as my knowledge goes--those of M. D’Arcey, -which are contained in a French report upon the roads of London, as -compared with those of Paris. - -This gentleman, speaking of the relative number of vehicles passing -and repassing over certain parts of the two capitals, says:--“The -Boulevards of Paris are the parts where the greatest traffic takes -place. On the _Boulevard des Capucins_ there pass, every 24 hours, 9070 -horses drawing carriages; on the _Boulevard des Italiens_, 10,750; -_Boulevard Poissonière_, 7720; _Boulevard St. Denis_, 9609; _Boulevard -des Filles du Calvaire_, 5856: general average of the above, 8600. -_Rue du Faubourg St. Antoine_, 4300; _Avenue des Champs Elysées_, -8959. At London, in Pall Mall, opposite Her Majesty’s Theatre, there -pass at least 800 carriages every hour. On London-bridge the number of -vehicles passing and repassing is not less than 13,000 every hour. On -Westminster-bridge the annual traffic amounts to 8,000,000 horses at -the least. By this it will be seen that the traffic in Paris does not -amount to one-half of what it is in the streets of London.” - - -OF THE DUST AND DIRT OF THE STREETS OF LONDON. - -We have merely to reflect upon the vast amount of traffic just shown to -be daily going on throughout London--to think of the 70,000,000 miles -of journey through the metropolis annually performed by the entire -vehicles (which is more than two-thirds the distance from the earth to -the sun)--to bear in mind that each part of London is on the average -gone over and over again 40,000 times in the course of the year, and -some parts as many as 13,000 times in a day--and that every horse and -vehicle by which the streets are traversed are furnished, the one with -four iron-bound hoofs, and the other with iron-bound wheels--to have -an imperfect idea of the enormous weights and friction continually -operating upon the surface of the streets--as well as the amount of -grinding and pulverising, and wear and tear, that must be perpetually -taking place in the paving-stones and macadamized roads of London; and -thus we may be able to form some mental estimate as to the quantity of -dust and dirt annually produced by these means alone. - -But the table in pp. 186-7, which has been collected at great trouble, -will give us still more accurate notions on the subject. It is not -given as perfect, but as being the best information, in the absence of -positive returns, that was procurable even from the best informed. - -Here, then, we have an aggregate total of dust collected from the -_principal_ parts of the metropolis amounting to no less than 141,466 -loads. The value of this refuse is said to be as much as 21,221_l._ -8_s._, but of this and more I shall speak hereafter. At present I -merely seek to give the reader a general notion upon the matter. I wish -to show him, before treating of the labourers engaged in the scavenging -of the London streets, the amount of work they have to do. - - -A TABLE SHOWING THE SEVERAL DIVISIONS OF THE METROPOLIS CLEANSED BY THE -SCAVENGERS AND PARISH MEN, THE NAMES OF THE CONTRACTORS, THE NUMBER -OF MEN AND CARTS EMPLOYED IN COLLECTING, THE QUANTITY OF DUST AND MUD -COLLECTED DAILY IN THE STREETS IN DRY AND WET WEATHER, WITH THE ANNUAL -VALUE OF THE WHOLE. - - - ---------------------------+-----------------+-----------------+-------------------+-----------------+------------+-----------------+ - | | Number of Men | Number of Carts | | Number of | | - | | employed | used daily in | Number of loads | Cart-Loads | Annual value | - | | at scavenging. | scavenging. |collected daily. | annually | of Dirt | - Divisions and Districts. | Names of +--------+--------+--------+----------+--------+--------+ collected | collected by | - | Contractors. | In dry | In wet | In dry | In wet | In dry |In wet | by the | Scavengers. | - | |weather.|weather.|weather.| weather. |weather.|weather.| Scavengers.| | - ---------------------------+-----------------+--------+--------+--------+----------+--------+--------+------------+-----------------+ - | | | | | | | | | £ _s._ _d._| - Kensington |Parish | 3 | 5 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 1252 | 187 16 0 | - Chelsea |Ditto | 3 | 5 | 1 | 2 | 4 | 6 | 1565 | 234 15 0 | - Ditto (Hans’ Town) |Mr. C. Humphries | 3 | 4 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 5 | 1252 | 187 16 0 | - St. George’s, Pimlico |Mr. Redding | 2 | 4 | 1 | 2 | 5 | 7 | 1878 | 281 14 0 | - Ditto, Hanover Square |Parish | 3 | 5 | 1 | 1 | 1-1/2 | 2-1/2 | 626 | 93 18 0 | - St. Margaret’s, Westminster|Ditto | 5 | 7 | 2 | 3 | 8 | 10 | 2817 | 422 11 0 | - St. John’s, ditto |Mr. Hearne | 5 | 7 | 1 | 2 | 8 | 10 | 2817 | 422 11 0 | - St. Martin’s |Machine | 6 | 9 | 4 | 4 | 4 | 6 | 1565 | 234 15 0 | - Hungerford-market |Mr. J. Gore | 2 | 2 | 1 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 626 | 93 18 0 | - St. James’s, Westminster |Parish | 2 | 4 | 1 | 2 | 5 | 7 | 1878 | 281 14 0 | - Piccadilly |Parish and | | | | | | | | | - Machine | 20 | 28 | 2 | 2 | 8 | 12 | 3130 | 469 10 0 | - Regent-street and Pall-mall|Ditto, ditto | 8 | 12 | 2 | 2 | 4 | 6 | 1565 | 234 15 0 | - St. Ann’s, Soho |Ditto | 3 | 4 | 1 | 2 | 4 | 6 | 1565 | 234 15 0 | - Woods and Forests |Machine | 2 | 4 | 1 | 2 | 5 | 7 | 1878 | 281 14 0 | - Paddington |Parish | 4 | 6 | 1 | 2 | 6 | 8 | 2191 | 328 13 0 | - Marylebone (Five Districts)|Ditto | 20 | 35 | 3 | 4 | 15 | 25 | 6260 | 939 0 0 | - Portland-market |Mr. Tame | 3 | 5 | 1 | 1 | 2 | 4 | 939 | 140 17 0 | - Hampstead |Parish | 2 | 4 | 1 | 1 | 2 | 4 | 939 | 140 17 0 | - Highgate |Ditto | 2 | 4 | 1 | 1 | 2 | 4 | 939 | 140 17 0 | - St. Pancras, South-west | | | | | | | | | | - Division |Mr. Stapleton | 2 | 4 | 1 | 2 | 4 | 6 | 1565 | 234 15 0 | - Somers-town |Mr. Starkey | 3 | 5 | 1 | 2 | 7 | 9 | 2504 | 375 12 0 | - Southampton Estate |Mr. C. Starkey | 4 | 5 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 5 | 1252 | 187 16 0 | - Bedford ditto |Mr. J. Gore | 2 | 2 | 1 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 626 | 93 18 0 | - Brewers’ ditto |Mr. C. Starkey | 2 | 2 | 1 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 626 | 93 18 0 | - Calthorpe ditto |Ditto | 2 | 2 | 1 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 626 | 93 18 0 | - Cromer ditto |Ditto | 2 | 2 | 1 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 626 | 93 18 0 | - Doughty ditto |Mr. Martin | 2 | 2 | 1 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 626 | 93 18 0 | - Foundling ditto |Ditto | 2 | 2 | 1 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 626 | 93 18 0 | - Harrison ditto |Ditto | 2 | 2 | 1 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 626 | 93 18 0 | - Skinners’ ditto |Mr. H. North | 2 | 2 | 1 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 626 | 93 18 0 | - Union ditto |Mr. J. Gore | 2 | 2 | 1 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 626 | 93 18 0 | - Islington District |Parish | 6 | 8 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 5 | 1252 | 187 16 0 | - Battle-bridge |Mr. Starkey | 4 | 6 | 1 | 2 | 5 | 7 | 1878 | 281 14 0 | - Hackney |Parish | 5 | 7 | 1 | 1 | 2 | 4 | 939 | 140 17 0 | - St. Giles-in-the-Fields and| | | | | | | | | | - St. George, Bloomsbury |Mr. Redding | 7 | 9 | 2 | 3 | 6 | 10 | 2504 | 375 12 0 | - St. Mary-le-Strand |Mr. J. Gore | 2 | 5 | 1 | 2 | 4 | 6 | 1565 | 234 15 0 | - Savoy |Ditto | 2 | 3 | 1 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 626 | 93 18 0 | - St. Clement Danes |Parish | 5 | 7 | 3 |3 waggons.| 2 | 6 | 1252 | 187 16 0 | - St. Paul’s, Covent Garden |Ditto | 3 | 5 | 1 |2 carts. | 3 | 5 | 1252 | 187 16 0 | - Covent Garden-market |Mr. Stapleton | 5 | 7 | 5 | 6 | 9 | 12 | 3130 | 469 10 0 | - Holborn |Parish | 6 | 9 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 6 | 1565 | 234 15 0 | - St. Sepulchre’s |Mr. J. Gore | 3 | 4 | 1 | 1 | 2 | 4 | 939 | 140 17 0 | - Hatton-garden |Messrs. Pratt | | | | | | | | | - | and Sewell | 2 | 2 | 1 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 626 | 93 18 0 | - St. James’s, Clerkenwell |Mr. Dodd | 5 | 7 | 2 | 3 | 8 | 10 | 2817 | 422 11 0 | - St. John’s, ditto |Mr. J. Gould | 5 | 7 | 3 | 3 | 6 | 8 | 2191 | 328 13 0 | - St. Luke’s |Mr. Dodd | 7 | 10 | 4 | 6 | 8 | 10 | 2817 | 422 11 0 | - Goswell-street |Mr. Redding | 3 | 4 | 1 | 2 | 4 | 6 | 1565 | 234 15 0 | - Liberty of the Rolls |Messrs. Pratt | | | | | | | | | - | and Sewell | 2 | 2 | 1 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 626 | 93 18 0 | - Blackfriars Bridge |Mr. Jenkins | 3 | 5 | 1 | 1 | 4 | 6 | 1565 | 234 15 0 | - City Division, Eastern, A |Mr. G. Sinnott | 10 | 16 | 4 | 6 | 12 | 16 | 4382 | 657 6 0 | - Ditto, North Middle, B |Mr. T. Rooke | 9 | 13 | 4 | 6 | 8 | 12 | 3130 | 469 10 0 | - Ditto, Western, C |Mr. C. Redding | 12 | 14 | 4 | 6 | 14 | 18 | 5008 | 751 4 0 | - Ditto, South Middle, D |Mr. J. Gould | 10 | 12 | 3 | 4 | 9 | 11 | 3130 | 469 10 0 | - Shoreditch |Mr. Dodd | 6 | 9 | 2 | 4 | 8 | 12 | 3130 | 469 10 0 | - Norton Folgate |Mr. J. Gould | 3 | 5 | 1 | 2 | 4 | 6 | 1565 | 234 15 0 | - Finsbury Square District |Ditto | 3 | 4 | 1 | 2 | 6 | 8 | 2191 | 328 13 0 | - St. Botolph |Mr. Westley | 2 | 4 | 2 | 2 | 4 | 6 | 1565 | 234 15 0 | - Spitalfields District |Mr. Newman | 3 | 6 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 1252 | 187 16 0 | - Spitalfields-market |Mr. Parsons | 5 | 7 | 3 | 4 | 4 | 6 | 1565 | 234 15 0 | - Bethnal-green |Mr. E. Newman | 4 | 6 | 3 | 4 | 8 | 10 | 2817 | 422 11 0 | - Whitechapel |Mr. Parsons | 3 | 5 | 2 | 3 | 6 | 8 | 2191 | 328 13 0 | - Commercial-road |Parish | 4 | 6 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 6 | 1565 | 234 15 0 | - Mile-end |Mr. Newman | 3 | 5 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 1252 | 187 16 0 | - Ditto, New-town |Mr. Parsons | 3 | 6 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 5 | 1252 | 187 16 0 | - St. John’s, Wapping |Mr. Westley | 2 | 4 | 1 | 2 | 2 | 4 | 939 | 140 17 0 | - Shadwell |Ditto | 2 | 4 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 1252 | 187 16 0 | - St. George’s-in-the-East |Ditto | 4 | 6 | 2 | 3 | 6 | 8 | 2191 | 328 13 0 | - Stepney |Mr. E. Newman | 4 | 6 | 1 | 2 | 4 | 6 | 1565 | 234 15 0 | - Poplar |Parish | 2 | 4 | 1 | 1 | 2 | 4 | 939 | 140 17 0 | - East Borough |Mr. Redding | 4 | 6 | 2 | 3 | 3 | 5 | 1252 | 187 16 0 | - West ditto |Ditto | 3 | 4 | 2 | 2 | 2 | 4 | 939 | 140 17 0 | - Borough Clink |Mr. W. Sinnott | 3 | 5 | 1 | 2 | 2 | 4 | 939 | 140 17 0 | - Bermondsey |Parish | 4 | 6 | 2 | 3 | 9 | 15 | 3576 | 563 18 0 | - Newington |Ditto | 4 | 6 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 1252 | 187 16 0 | - Lambeth |Ditto | 12 | 16 | 2 | 3 | 8 | 10 | 2817 | 422 11 0 | - Ditto (Christchurch) |Ditto | 14 | 20 | 2 | 3 | 6 | 9 | 2191 | 328 13 0 | - Wandsworth |Ditto | 2 | 4 | 1 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 626 | 93 18 0 | - Camberwell and Walworth |Ditto | 4 | 6 | 1 | 2 | 5 | 7 | 1878 | 281 14 0 | - Rotherhithe |Ditto | 3 | 5 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 1252 | 187 16 0 | - Greenwich |Ditto | 3 | 5 | 1 | 2 | 4 | 6 | 1565 | 234 15 0 | - Deptford |Ditto | 3 | 4 | 1 | 2 | 6 | 8 | 2191 | 328 13 0 | - Woolwich |Ditto | 3 | 5 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 1252 | 187 16 0 | - Lewisham |Ditto | 2 | 4 | 1 | 1 | 1 | 3 | 626 | 93 18 0 | - +-----------------+--------+--------+--------+----------+--------+--------+------------+-----------------+ - |Scavengers’ Total| 358 | 531 | 130 | 183 |355-1/2 |548-1/2 | 140,983 |21,147 9 0 | - ---------------------------+-----------------+--------+--------+--------+----------+--------+--------+------------+-----------------+ - Average total 444-1/2 men. 156-1/2 carts. 452 loads daily. 140,983 loads yearly. £21,147 9 0 | - Orderlies 546 ditto. 9 ditto. 2,817 ditto. 352 2 6 | - --- ------- --- ------- ----------- | - Gross total 990-1/2 men. 156-1/2 461 loads daily. 143,800 loads yearly. £21,499 11 6 | - ------- --- ------- -----------| - - -OF THE STREET-DUST OF LONDON, AND THE LOSS AND INJURY OCCASIONED BY IT. - -The daily and nightly grinding of thousands of wheels, the iron -friction of so many horses’ hoofs, the evacuations of horses and -cattle, and the ceaseless motion of pedestrians, all decomposing the -substance of our streets and roads, give rise to many distinct kinds of -street-dirt. These are severally known as - -(1) _Dust._ - -(2) _Horse-dung_ and _cattle-manure_. - -(3) _Mud_, when mixed with water and with general refuse, such as the -remains of fruit and other things thrown into the street and swept -together. - -(4) _Surface-water_ when mixed with street-sewage. - -These productions I shall treat severally, and first of the street-dust. - -The “_detritus_” of the streets of London assumes many forms, and is -known by many names, according as it is combined with more or less -water. - -1st. In a perfectly dry state, so that the particles no longer exist -either in a state of cohesion or aggregation, but are minutely divided -and distinct, it is known by the name of “dust.” - -2nd. When in combination with a small quantity of water, so that it -assumes the consistency of a pap, the particles being neither free to -move nor yet able to resist pressure, the detritus is known by the -name of “mac mud,” or simply “mud,” according as it proceeds from a -macadamized or stone paved road. - -3rd. When in combination with a greater quantity of water, so that it -is rendered almost liquid, it is known as “slop-dirt.” - -4th. When in combination with a still greater quantity of water, so -that it is capable of running off into the sewers, it is known by the -name of “street surface-water.” - -The mud of the streets of London is then merely the dust or detritus -of the granite of which they are composed, agglutinated either with -rain or the water from the watering-carts. Granite consists of silex, -felspar, and mica. Silex is sand, while felspar and mica are also silex -in combination with alumina (clay), and either potash or magnesia. -Hence it would appear to be owing to the affinity of the alumina or -clay for moisture, as well as the property of silex to “gelatinize” -with water under certain conditions, that the particles of dry dust -derive their property of _agglutinating_, when wetted, and so forming -what is termed “mud”--either “mac,” or simple mud, according, as I said -before, to the nature of the paving on which it is formed. - -By _dust_ the street-cleansers mean the collection of every kind of -refuse in the dust-bins; but I here speak, of course, of the fine -particles of earthy matter produced by the attrition of our roads when -in a dry state. Street-dust is, more properly speaking, mud deprived of -its moisture by evaporation. Miss Landon (L. E. L.) used to describe -the London dust as “mud in high spirits,” and perhaps no figure of -speech could convey a better notion of its character. - -In some parts of the suburbs on windy days London is a perfect -dust-mill, and although the dust may be allayed by the agency of the -water-carts (by which means it is again converted into “mac,” or mud), -it is not often thoroughly allayed, and is a source of considerable -loss, labour, and annoyance. Street-dust is not collected for any -useful purpose, so that as there is no return to be balanced against -its prejudicial effects it remains only to calculate the quantity of it -annually produced, and thus to arrive at the extent of the mischief. - -Street-dust is disintegrated granite, that is, pulverized quartz -and felspar, felspar being principally composed of alumina or clay, -and quartz silex or sand; it is the result of the attrition, or in -a word it is the _detritus_, of the stones used in pavements and in -macadamization; it is further composed of the pulverization of all -horse and cattle-dung, and of the almost imperceptible, but still, I -am assured, existent powder which arises from the friction of the -wooden pavement even when kept moist. In the roads of the nearest -suburbs, even around such places as the Regent’s-park, at many seasons -this dust is produced largely, so that very often an open window for -the enjoyment of fresh air is one for the intrusion of fresh dust. -This may be less the case in the busier and more frequently-watered -thoroughfares, but even there the annoyance is great. - -I find in the “Reports” in which this subject is mentioned but little -said concerning the influence of dust upon the public health. Dr. -Arnott, however, is very explicit on the subject. “It is,” says -he, “scarcely conceivable that the immense quantities of granite -dust, pounded by one or two hundred thousand pairs of wheels (!) -working on macadamized streets, should not greatly injure the public -health. In houses bordering such streets or roads it is found that, -notwithstanding the practice of watering, the furniture is often -covered with dust, even more than once in the day, so that writing on -it with the finger becomes legible, and the lungs and air tubes of the -inhabitants, with a moist lining to detain the dust, are constantly -pumping in the same atmosphere. The passengers by a stage-coach in dry -weather, when the wind is moving with them so as to keep them enveloped -in the cloud of dust raised by the horses’ feet and the wheels of the -coach, have their clothes soon saturated to whiteness, and their lungs -are charged in a corresponding degree. A gentleman who rode only 20 -miles in this way had afterwards to cough and expectorate for ten days -to clear his chest again.” - -In order that the deleteriousness to health incident to the inhalation -of these fine and offensive particles may be the better estimated, I -may add, that in every 24 hours an adult breathes 36 hogsheads of air; -and Mr. Erasmus Wilson, in his admirable work on the Skin, has the -following passage concerning the extent of surface presented by the -lungs:-- - -“The lungs receive the atmospheric air through the windpipe. At the -root of the neck the windpipe, or trachea, divides into two branches, -called bronchi, and each bronchus, upon entering its respective lung, -divides into an infinity of small tubes; the latter terminate in small -pouches, called air-cells, and a number of these little air-cells -communicate together at the extremity of each small tube. The number -of air-cells in the two lungs has been estimated at 1,744,000,000, and -the extent of the skin which lines the cells and tubes together at -1500 square feet. This calculation of the number of air-cells, and the -extent of the lining membrane, rests, I believe, on the authority of -Dr. Addison of Malvern.” - -What is the amount of atmospherical granite, dung, and refuse-dust -received in a given period into the human lungs, has never, I am -informed, been ascertained even by approximation; but according to the -above facts it must be something fearful to contemplate. - -After this brief recital of what is known concerning the sanitary part -of the question, I proceed to consider the damage and loss occasioned -by street-dust. In no one respect, perhaps, can this be ascertained -with perfect precision, but still even a rough approximation to the -extent of the evil is of value, as giving us more definite ideas on the -subject. - -It will be seen, on reference to the preceding table, that the quantity -of street-refuse collected in dry weather throughout the metropolis is -between 300 and 400 cart-loads daily, or upwards of 100,000 cart-loads, -the greater proportion of which may be termed street-dust. - -The damage occasioned by the street-dust arises from its penetrating, -before removal, the atmosphere both without and within our houses, -and consists in the soiling of wearing apparel, the injury of the -stock-in-trade of shopkeepers, and of household furniture. - -Washing is, of course, dependent upon the duration of time in which -it is proper, in the estimation of the several classes of society, -to retain wearing apparel upon the person, on the bed or the table, -without what is termed a “change;” and this duration of time with -thousands of both men and women is often determined by the presence or -absence of dirt on the garment; and not arbitrarily, as among wealthier -people, with whom a clean shirt every morning, and a clean table-cloth -every one, two, three, or more days, as may happen, are regarded as -things of course, no matter what may be the state of the displaced -linen. - -The Board of Health, in one of their Reports, speak very decisively and -definitely on this subject. “Common observation of the rate at which -the skin, linen, and clothes (not to speak of paper, books, prints, and -furniture) become dirty in the metropolis,” say they, “as compared with -the time that elapses before a proportionate amount of deterioration -and uncleanliness is communicated in the rural districts, will warrant -the estimate, that _full one-half the expense of washing to maintain a -passable degree of cleanliness_, is rendered necessary by the excess -of smoke generated in open fires, and the _excess of dust arising from -the imperfect scavenging of the roads and streets_. Persons engaged in -washing linen on a large scale, state that it is dirtied in the crowded -parts of the metropolis in _one-third_ the time in which the like -degree of uncleanliness would be produced in a rural district; but all -attest the fact, that linen is more rapidly destroyed by washing than -by the wear on the person. The expense of the more rapid destruction -of linen must be added to the extra expense of washing. These expenses -and inconveniences, the greater portion of which are due to _local -maladministration, occasion an extra expenditure of upwards of two to -three millions per annum_--exclusive of the injury done to the general -health and the medical and other expenses consequent thereon.” - -Here, then, we find the evil effects of the imperfect scavenging of the -metropolis estimated at between two and three millions sterling per -annum, and this in the mere matter of extra washing and its necessary -concomitant extra wear and tear of clothes. - -As this estimate, however, appears to me to exaggerate the evil beyond -all due bounds, I will proceed to adduce a few facts, bearing upon the -point: and first as to the expense of washing. - -In order to ascertain as accurately as possible, the actual washing -expenses of labouring men and their families whose washing was done at -home, Mr. John Bullar, the Honorary Secretary to the Association for -the Promotion of Baths and Washhouses, tells us in a Report presented -to Parliament, “that inquiries were made of several hundred families -of labouring men, and it was found that, _taking the wife’s labour -as worth 5s. a week!_ the total cost of washing at home, for a man -and wife and four children, averaged very closely on 2_s._ 6_d._ a -week, = 5_d._ a head. The cost of coals, soda, soap, starch, blue, and -sometimes water, was rather less than one-third of the amount. The -time occupied was rarely less than two days, and more often extended -into a third day, so that the value of the labour was rather more than -two-thirds of the amount. - -“The cost of washing to single men among the labouring classes, whose -washing expenditure might be expected to be on a very low scale, such -as hod-men and street-sweepers, was found to be 4-1/2_d._ a head. - -“The cost of washing to very small tradesmen could not be safely -estimated at much more than 6_d._ a head a week. - -“It may, perhaps,” continues the Report, “be safe to reckon the -weekly washing expenses of the poorer half of the inhabitants of the -metropolis at not exceeding 6_d._ a head; but the expenditure for -washing rapidly increases as the inquiry ascends into what are called -the ‘middle classes.’ - -“The washing expenses of families in which servants are employed may be -considered as double that of the servants’, and, therefore, as ranging -from 1_s._ 6_d._ to 5_s._ a week a head. - -“There is considerable difficulty in ascertaining with any exactness -the washing expenditure of private families, but the conclusion is -that, taking the whole population, the washing bills of London are -nearly 1_s._ a week a head, or 5,000,000_l._ a year. - -“Of course,” adds Mr. Bullar, “I give this as but a rough estimate, and -many exceptions may easily be taken to it; but I feel pretty confident -that _it is not very far_ from the truth.” - -As I before stated, I am in no way disposed to go to the extent of -the calculation here made. It appears to me that in parliamentary -investigations by the agency of select committees, or by gentlemen -appointed to report on any subject, there is an aptitude to deal with -the whole body of the people as if they were earning the wages of well -and regularly-employed labourers, or even mechanics. To suppose that -the starving ballast-heaver, the victim of a vicious truck system, -which condemns him to poverty and drunkenness, or the sweep, or the -dustman, or the street-seller--all very numerous classes--expends 1_s._ -a week in his washing, is far beyond the fact. Still less is expended -in the washing of these people’s children. Even the well-conducted -artizan, with two clean shirts a week (costing him 6_d._), with the -washing of stockings, &c. (costing 1_d._ or 2_d._), does not expend -1_s._ a week; so that, though the washing bills of many ladies and of -some gentlemen may average 10_s._ weekly, if we consider how few are -rich and how many poor, the extra payment seems insufficient to make up -the average of the weekly shilling for the washing of all classes. - -A prosperous and respectable master greengrocer, who was what may -be called “particular” in his dress, as he had been a gentleman’s -servant, and was now in the habit of waiting upon the wealthy persons -in his neighbourhood, told me that the following was the average of -his washing bill. He was a bachelor; all his washing was put out, and -he considered his expenditure far _above_ the average of his class, -as many used no night-shirt, but slept in the shirts they wore during -the day, and paid only 3_d._, and even less, per shirt to their -washer-woman, and perhaps, and more especially in winter, made one -shirt last the week. - - Two shirts (per week) 7_d._ - Stockings 1 - Night-shirt (worn two weeks generally, - average per week) 0-3/4 - Sheets, blankets, and other household - linens or woollens 2 - Handkerchiefs 0-1/4 - ------ - 11_d._ - -My informant was satisfied that he had put his expenditure at the -highest. I also ascertained that an industrious wife, who was able -to attend to her household matters, could wash the clothes of a -small tradesman’s family,--for a man, his wife, and four small -children,--“well,” at the following rate:-- - - 1 lb. soap 4-1/2_d._ or 5_d._ - Soda and starch 0-1/2 - 1/4 cwt. coals (extra) 3-1/2 - ----- - 8-1/2_d._ - -or less than 1-1/2_d._ per head. - -In this calculation it will be seen the cheapest soap is reckoned, and -that _there is no allowance for the wife’s labour_. When I pointed out -the latter circumstance, my informant said: “I look on it that the -washing labour is part of the wife’s keep, or what she gives in return -for it; and that as she’d have to be kept if she didn’t do it, why -there shouldn’t be no mention of it. If she was working for others it -would be quite different, but washing is a family matter; that’s my way -of looking at it. Coke, too, is often used instead of coals; besides, a -bit of bacon, or potatoes, or the tea-kettle, will have to be boiled, -and that’s managed along with the hot water for the suds, and would -have to be done anyhow, especially in winter.” - -One decent woman, who had five children, “all under eight,” told me she -often sat up half, and sometimes the whole night to wash, when busy -other ways. She was not in poverty, for she earned “a good bit” in -going out to cook, and her husband was employed by a pork-butcher. - -I may further add, that a great many single men wash their own clothes. -Many of the street-sellers in particular do this; so do such of the -poor as live in their own rooms, and occasionally the dwellers in the -low lodging-houses. One street-seller of ham sandwiches, whose aprons, -sleeves, and tray-cloth, were remarkably white, told me that he washed -them himself, as well as his shirt, &c., and that it was the common -practice with his class. This washing--his aprons, tray-cloths, shirts, -and stockings included--cost him, every three weeks, 4-1/4_d._ or 5_d._ -for 1 lb. of soap, which is less than 1-1/2_d._ a week. Among such -people it is considered that the washing of a shirt is, as they say, “a -penn’orth of soap, and the stockings in,” meaning that a penny outlay -is sufficient to wash for both. - -But not only does Mr. Bullar’s estimate exceed the truth as regards -the cost of washing among the poorer classes, but it also errs in -the proportion they are said to bear to the other ranks of society. -That gentleman speaks of “the poorer _half_ of the inhabitants of the -metropolis,” as if the rich and poor were equal in numbers! but with -all deference, it will be found that the ratio between the well-to-do -and the needy is as 1 to 2, that is to say, the property and income-tax -returns teach us there are at least two persons with an income _below_ -150_l._ per annum, to every one having an income _above_ it. Hence, the -population of London being, within a fraction, 2,400,000; the numbers -of the metropolitan well-to-do and needy would be respectively 800,000 -and 1,600,000, and, allowing the cost of the washing of the former to -average 1_s._ per head (adults and children), and, the washing of the -labouring classes to come to 2_d._ a head, young and old (the expense -of the materials, when the work is done at home, average, it has been -shown, about 1-1/2_d._ for each member of the family), we shall then -have the following statement:-- - - Annual cost of washing for 800,000 - people, at 1_s._ per head per week £2,080,000 - Annual cost of washing for 1,600,000 - people, at 2_d._ per head per week 693,333 - ----------- - Total cost of washing of metropolis £2,773,333 - -I am convinced, low as the estimate of 2_d._ a week may appear for -all whose incomes are under 150_l._ a year, from many considerations, -that the above computation is rather over than under the truth. As, -for instance, Mr. Hawes has said concerning the consumption of soap in -the metropolis,--“Careful inquiry has proved that the quantity used is -much greater than that indicated by the Excise returns; but reducing -the results obtained by inquiry in one uniform proportion, the quantity -used by the labouring classes earning from 10_s._ to 30_s._ per week -is 10 lbs. each per annum, including every member of the family. -Dividing the population of the metropolis into three classes: (1) the -wealthy; (2) the shopkeepers and tradesmen; (3) labourers and the poor, -and allowing 15 lbs., 10 lbs., and 4 lbs. to each respectively, the -consumption of the metropolis will be nearly 200 tons per week.” The -cost of each ton of soap Mr. Hawes estimates at 45_l._ - -Professor Clarke, however, computes the metropolitan consumption of -soap at 250 tons per week, and the cost per ton at 50_l._ - - According to the above estimates, - the total quantity of soap used every - year in the metropolis is 12,000 tons, - and this, at 50_l._ per ton, comes to £600,000 - - Professor Clarke reckons the gross - consumption of soda in the metropolis, - at 250 tons per month, costing 10_l._ a - ton; hence for the year the consumption - will be 3000 tons, costing 30,000 - - The cost of water, according to the - same authority, is 3_s._ 4_d._ per head - per annum, and this, for the whole - metropolis, amounts to 400,000 - - Estimating the cost of the coals used - in heating the water to be equal to - that of the soap, we have for the - gross expense of fuel annually consumed - in washing 600,000 - - There are 21,000 laundresses in - London, and, calculating that the - wages of these average 10_s._ a week - each all the year round, the gross - sum paid to them, would be in - round numbers 550,000 - - Profit of employers, say 550,000 - - Add for sundries, as starch, &c. 50,000 - ---------- - Total cost of washing of metropolis £2,780,000 - -Hence it would appear, that viewed either by the individual expense -of the great bulk of society, or else by the aggregate cost of the -materials and labour used in cleansing the clothes of the people -of London, the total sum annually expended in the washing of the -metropolis may be estimated at the outside at two millions and three -quarters sterling per annum, or about 1_l._ 3_s._ 4_d._ per head. - -And yet, though the data for the calculation here given, as to the -cost and quantity of the principal materials used in cleansing the -clothes of London, are derived from the same Report as that in which -the expense of the metropolitan washing is estimated at 5,000,000_l._ -per annum, the Board of Health do not hesitate in that document to -say that,--“Of the fairness of the estimate of the expense of washing -to the higher and middle classes, and to the great bulk of the -householders, and the better class of artizans, we entertain no doubt -whatever. Whatsoever deductions, if any, may be made from the above -estimate, it is, nevertheless, an _under-estimate_ for maintaining, -at the present expense of washing, a proper amount of cleanliness in -linen.” - -Proceeding, however, with the calculation as to the loss from the -imperfect scavenging of the metropolis, we have the following results:-- - - -LOSS FROM DUST AND DIRT IN THE STREETS OF THE METROPOLIS, OWING TO THE -EXTRA WASHING ENTAILED THEREBY. - - According to the Board of Health, - taking the yearly amount of the washing - of the metropolis at 5,000,000_l._, - and assuming the washing to be - doubled by street-dirt, the loss will be £2,500,000 - - Calculating the washing, however, - for reasons above adduced, to be only - 2,750,000_l._, and to be as much again - as it might be under an improved - system of scavenging, the loss will be 1,375,000 - - Or calculating, _as a minimum_, that - the remediable loss is less than one-half, - the cost is £1,000,000 - -Hence it would appear that the loss from dust and dirt is _really -enormous_. - -In a work entitled “Sanatory Progress,” being the Fifth Report of the -National Philanthropic Association, I find a calculation as to the -losses sustained from dust and dirt upon our clothes. Owing to the -increased wear from daily brushing to remove the dust, and occasional -scraping to remove the mud, the loss is estimated at from 3_l._ to -7_l._ per annum for each well-dressed man and woman, and 1_l._ for -inferiorly-dressed persons, including their Sunday and holiday clothing. - -I inquired of a West-end tailor, who previously to his establishment in -business had himself been an operative, and had had experience both in -town and country as to the wear of clothes, and I learned from him the -following particulars. - -With regard to the clothes of the wealthy classes, of those who could -always command a carriage in bad weather, there are no means of judging -as to the loss caused by bad scavengery. - -My informant, however, obliged me with the following calculations, -the results of his experience. His trade is what I may describe as a -medium business, between the low slop and the high fashionable trades. -The garments of which he spoke were those worn by clerks, shopmen, -students, tradesmen, town-travellers, and others not engaged in menial -or handicraft labour. - -Altogether, and after consulting his books relative to town and country -customers, my informant thought it might be easy to substantiate the -following estimate as regards the duration and cost of clothes in town -and country among the classes I have specified. - - -TABLE SHOWING THE COMPARATIVE COST OF CLOTHES WORN IN TOWN AND COUNTRY. - - ----------+--------------+----------------------+----------------------+------------- - | | Town. | Country. | - Garments. |Original cost.+---------+------------+---------+------------+Difference of - | |Duration.|Annual cost.|Duration.|Annual cost.| cost. - ----------+--------------+---------+------------+---------+------------+------------- - | £ _s._ _d._ | Years. | £ _s._ _d._| Years. | £ _s._ _d._| £ _s._ _d._ - Coat | 2 10 0 | 2 | 1 5 0 | 3 | 0 16 8 | 0 8 4 - Waistcoat | 0 15 0 | 2-1/2 | 0 6 0 | 3 | 0 5 0 | 0 1 0 - Trowsers | 1 5 0 | 1-1/4 | 1 0 0 | 2 | 0 12 6 | 0 7 6 - ----------+--------------+---------+------------+---------+------------+------------- - Total Suit| 4 10 0 | | 2 11 0 | | 1 14 2 | 0 16 10 - ----------+--------------+---------+------------+---------+------------+------------- - -Here, then, it appears that the annual outlay for clothes in town, by -the classes I have specified, is about 2_l._ 11_s._; while the annual -outlay in the country for the same garments is 1_l._ 14_s._ 2_d._; -the difference of expense being 16_s._ 10_d._ per annum. I consulted -another tailor on the subject, and his estimate was a trifle above that -of my informant. - -I should remark that the proportion thus adduced holds, _whatever be -the number of garments_ worn in the year, or in a series of years, -for the calculation was made not as to individual garments, but as -to the general wear, evinced by the average outlay, as shown in the -tradesman’s books, of the same class of persons in town and country. - -In the calculation given in the publication of the National -Philanthropic Association, the loss on a well-dressed Londoner’s -clothing, arising from excessive dust and dirt, is estimated at from -3_l._ to 7_l._ per annum. By the above table it will be seen that the -clothes which cost 1_l._ 14_s._ 2_d._ per annum in the cleanliness of -a country abode, cost 2_l._ 11_s._, or, within a fraction, half as -much again, in the uncleanliness of a London atmosphere and roads. If, -therefore, any London inhabitant, of the classes I have specified, -expend four times 2_l._ 11_s._ in his clothes yearly, as many do, or -10_l._ 4_s._, he loses 3_l._ 5_s._ 4_d._, or 5_s._ 4_d._ more than the -minimum mentioned in the Report alluded to. - -Now estimating 2_l._ 10_s._ as the yearly tailor’s bill among the -well-to-do (boys and men), and calculating that one-sixth of the -metropolitan population (that is, half of the one-third who may be said -to belong to the class having incomes above 150_l._ a year) spend this -sum yearly in clothes, we have the following statement:-- - - -AGGREGATE LOSS UPON CLOTHES WORN IN LONDON. - - £ _s._ _d._ - - 400,000 persons living in - London expend in clothing (at - 2_l._ 10_s._ per annum) 1,000,000 0 0 - - 400,000 persons living in better - atmospheres in rural parts, - and with the same stock of - clothes, expend one-third less, - or 666,666 13 4 - ------------------ - Difference 333,333 6 8 - -It would be pushing the inquiry to exceeding minuteness were I to enter -into calculations as to the comparative expense of boots, hats, and -ladies’ dresses worn in town and country; suffice it, that competent -persons in each of the vestiary trades have been seen, and averages -drawn for the accounts of their town and country customers. - -All things, then, being duly considered, the following conclusion would -seem to be warranted by the facts:-- - - Annual cost of clothes to 800,000 of - the metropolitan population (those - belonging to the class who have incomes - _above_ 150_l._ per annum) at 4_l._ - per year each £3,200,000 - - Annual cost of clothes to 1,600,000 - of the metropolitan population (those - belonging to the class who have incomes - _below_ 150_l._ per annum), at 1_l._ - per year each 1,600,000 - ---------- - £4,800,000 - - Annual cost of the same clothes if - worn in the country 3,600,000 - ---------- - Extra expense annually entailed by - dust and dirt of metropolis £1,200,000 - -In the above estimate I have included the cost of wear and tear of -linen from extra washing when worn in London, and this has been stated -on the authority of the Board of Health to be double that of linen worn -in the country. - -In connection with this subject I may cite the following curious -calculation, taken from a Parliamentary Report, as to the cost of a -working man’s new shirt, comprising four yards of strong calico. - - _Material._--Cotton at 6_d._ per lb. _d._ - 1-1/4 lb., with loss thereupon 8·25 - - _Manufacture_,-- _d._ - Spinning 2·25 - Weaving 3·00 - Profit ·25 - ----- - 5·50 - ----- - 13·75 - Bleaching about 1·25 - ----- - 15·00 - - Grey (calico) 13·75_d._ + 9_d._ (making) = 1_s._ 10-3/4_d._ - Bleached 15_d._ + 9_d._ „ = 2_s._ - -As regards the loss and damage occasioned by the injury to -household furniture and decorations, and to stocks-in-trade, which -is another important consideration connected with this subject, I -find the following statement in the Report of the Philanthropic -Institution:--“The loss by goods and furniture is incalculable: -shopkeepers lose from 10_l._ to 150_l._ a-year by the spoiling of -their goods for sale; dealers in provisions especially, who cannot -expose them without being deteriorated in value, from the dust that is -incessantly settling upon them. Nor is it much better with clothiers of -all kinds:--Mr. Holmes, shawl merchant, in Regent-street, has stated -that his losses from road-dust alone exceed 150_l._ per annum.”... -“In a communication with Mr. Mivart, respecting the expenses of mud -and road-dust to him, that gentleman stated that the rent of the four -houses of which his hotel is composed, was 896_l._; and that he could -not (considering the cost of cleaning and servants) estimate the -expense of repairing the damage done by the dirt and dust, carried and -blown into these houses, at a less annual sum than that of his rent!” - -An upholsterer obliged me with the following calculations, but so many -were the materials, and so different the rates of wear or the liability -to injury in different materials in his trade, that he could only -calculate generally. - -The same quality, colour, and pattern of curtains, silk damasks, which -he had furnished to a house in town, and to a country house belonging -to the same gentleman, looked far fresher and better after five years’ -wear in the country than after three in town. Both windows had a -southern aspect, but the occupant would have his windows partially -open unless the weather was cold, foggy, or rainy. It was the same, -or nearly the same, he thought, with the carpets on the two places, -for London dust was highly injurious to all the better qualities -of carpets. He was satisfied, also, it was the same generally in -upholstery work subjected to town dust. - -I inquired at several West-end and city shops, and of different -descriptions of tradesmen, of the injury done to their shop and -shop-window goods by the dust, but I found none who had made any -calculations on the subject. All, however, agreed that the dust was an -excessive annoyance, and entailed great expense; a ladies’ shoemaker -and a bookseller expressed this particularly--on the necessity of -making the window a sort of small glass-house to exclude the dust, -which, after all, was not sufficiently excluded. All thought, or with -but one hesitating exception, that the estimation as to the loss -sustained by the Messrs. Holmes, considering the extent of their -premises, and the richness of the goods displayed in the windows, &c., -was not in excess. - -I can, then, but indicate the injury to household furniture and -stock-in-trade as a corroboration of all that has been advanced -touching the damaging effects of road dirt. - - -OF THE HORSE-DUNG OF THE STREETS OF LONDON. - -“Familiarity with streets of crowded traffic deadens the senses to the -perception of their actual condition. Strangers coming from the country -frequently describe the streets of London as smelling of dung like a -stable-yard.” - -Such is one of the statements in a Report submitted to Parliament, and -there is no reason to doubt the fact. Every English visitor to a French -city, for instance, must have detected street-odours of which the -inhabitants were utterly unconscious. In a work which between 20 and -30 years ago was deservedly popular, Mathews’s “Diary of an Invalid,” -it is mentioned that an English lady complaining of the villanous -rankness of the air in the first French town she entered--Calais, if I -remember rightly--received the comfortable assurance, “It is the smell -of the Continent, ma’am.” Even in Cologne itself, the “most stinking -city of Europe,” as it has been termed, the citizens are insensible -to the foul airs of their streets, and yet possess great skill in -manufacturing perfumed and distilled waters for the toilet, pluming -themselves on the delicacy and discrimination of their nasal organs. -What we perceive in other cities, as strangers, those who visit London -detect in our streets--that they smell of dung like stable-yards. It -is idle for London denizens, because they are unconscious of the fact, -to deny the existence of any such effluvia. I have met with nightmen -who have told me that there was “nothing particular” in the smell of -the cesspools they were emptying; they “hardly perceived it.” One man -said, “Why, it’s like the sort of stuff I’ve smelt in them ladies’ -smelling-bottles.” An eminent tallow-melter said, in the course of his -evidence before Parliament during a sanitary inquiry, that the smell -from the tallow-melting on his premises was not only healthful and -reviving--for invalids came to inhale it--but agreeable. I mention -these facts to meet the scepticism which the official assertion as -to the stable-like odour of the streets may, perhaps, provoke. When, -however, I state the _quantity_ of horse-dung and “cattle-droppings” -voided in the streets, all incredulity, I doubt not, will be removed. - -“It has been ascertained,” says the Report of the National -Philanthropic Association, “that four-fifths of the street-dirt consist -of horse and cattle-droppings.” - -Let us, therefore, endeavour to arrive at definite notions as to the -absolute quantity of this element of street-dirt. - -And, first, as to the number of cattle and horses traversing the -streets of London. - -In the course of an inquiry in November, 1850, into Smithfield-market, -I adduced the following results as to the number of cattle entering the -metropolis, deriving the information from the experience of Mr. Deputy -Hicks, confirmed by returns to Parliament, by the amount of tolls, and -further ratified by the opinion of some of the most experienced “live -salesmen” and “dead salesmen” (sellers on commission of live and dead -cattle), whose assistance I had the pleasure of obtaining. - -The return is of the stock _annually_ sold in Smithfield-market, and -includes not only English but foreign beasts, sheep, and calves; the -latter averaging weekly in 1848 (the latest return then published), -beasts, 590; sheep, 2478; and calves, 248. - - 224,000 horned cattle. - 1,550,000 sheep. - 27,300 calves. - 40,000 pigs. - --------- - Total 1,841,300. - -I may remark that this is not a criterion of the consumption of animal -food in the metropolis, for there are, besides the above, the daily -supplies from the country to the “dead salesmen.” The preceding return, -however, is sufficient for my present purpose, which is to show the -quantity of cattle manure “dropped” in London. - -The number of cattle entering the metropolis, then, are 1,841,300 per -annum. - -The number of horses daily traversing the metropolis has been already -set forth. By a return obtained by Mr. Charles Cochrane from the Stamp -and Tax Office, we have seen that there are altogether - - In London and Westminster, of private - carriage, job, and cart horses 10,022 - Cab horses 5,692 - Omnibus horses 5,500 - Horses daily coming to metropolis 3,000 - ------ - Total number of horses daily in London 24,214 - -The total here given includes the returns of horses which were either -taxed or the property of those who employ them in hackney-carriages -in the metropolis. But the whole of these 24,214 horses are not at -work in the streets every day. Perhaps it might be an approximation to -the truth, if we reckoned five-sixths of the horses as being worked -regularly in the public thoroughfares; so that we arrive at the -conclusion that 20,000 horses are daily worked in the metropolis; and -hence we have an aggregate of 7,300,000 horses traversing the streets -of London in the twelvemonth. The beasts, sheep, calves, and pigs -driven and conveyed to and from Smithfield are, we have seen, 1,841,300 -in number. These, added together, make up a total of 9,141,300 animals -appearing annually in the London thoroughfares. The circumstance of -Smithfield cattle-market being held but twice a week in no way detracts -from the amount here given; for as the gross number of individual -cattle coming to that market in the course of the year is given, each -animal is estimated as appearing only once in the metropolis. - -The next point for consideration is--what is the quantity of dung -dropped by each of the above animals while in the public thoroughfares? - -Concerning the quantity of excretions passed by a horse in the -course of 24 hours there have been some valuable experiments made by -philosophers whose names alone are a sufficient guarantee for the -accuracy of their researches. - -The following Table from Boussingault’s experiments is copied from the -“Annales de Chimie et de Physique,” t. lxxi. - - -FOOD CONSUMED BY AND EXCRETIONS OF A HORSE IN TWENTY-FOUR HOURS. - - --------------------------------------++--------------------------------------- - FOOD. || EXCRETIONS. - ------+--------------+----------------++------------+--------------+----------- - | Weight in a | Weight in a || | Weight in a |Weight in a - |fresh state in| fresh state || |fresh state in|fresh state - | grammes. | in pounds. || | grammes. | in pounds. - ------+--------------+----------------++------------+--------------+----------- - | | lbs. oz. || | | lbs. oz. - Hay | 7,500 | 20 0 || Excrements | 14,250 | 38 2 - Oats | 2,270 | 6 1 || Urine | 1,330 | 3 7 - | ------ | ------ || | | - | 9,770 | 26 1 || | | - Water | 16,000 | 42 10 || | | - ------+--------------+----------------++------------+--------------+----------- - Total | 25,770 | 68 11 || Total | 15,580 | 41 9 - ------+--------------+----------------++------------+--------------+----------- - -Here it will be seen that the quantity of solid food given to the -horse in the course of the 24 hours amounted only to 26 lbs.; whereas -it is stated in the Report of the National Philanthropic Association, -on the authority of the veterinary surgeon to the Life Guards, that -the regulation horse rations in all cavalry regiments is 30 lbs. of -solid food; viz., 10 lbs. of oats, 12 lbs. of hay, together with 8 lbs. -of straw, for the horse to lie upon and munch at his leisure. “This -quantity of solid food, with five gallons of water, is considered -sufficient,” we are told, “for all regimental horses, who have but -little work to perform, in comparison with the draught horses of the -metropolis, many of which consume daily 35 lbs. and upwards of solid -food, with at least six gallons of water. - -“At a conference held with the secretary and professors of the -Veterinary College in College-street, Camden-town,” continues the -Report, “those gentlemen kindly undertook to institute a series of -experiments in this department of equine physiology; the subject -being one which interested themselves, professionally, as well as the -council of the National Philanthropic Association. The experiments were -carefully conducted under the superintendence of Professor Varnell. The -food, drink, and voidances of several horses, kept in stable all day -long, were separately weighed and measured; and the following were the -results with an animal of medium size and sound health:-- - - “‘Royal Veterinary College, - Sept. 29, 1849. - - “‘Brown horse of middle size ate in - 24 hours, of hay, 16lbs.; oats, 10lbs.; - chaff, 4 lbs.; in all 30 lbs. - - Drank of water, in 24 hours, 6 gallons, - or 48 lbs. - -------- - Total 78 lbs. - Voided in the form of fæces 49 lbs. - -------- - Allowance for nutrition, supply of - waste in system, perspiration, and urine 29 lbs. - - (Signed) - “‘GEORGE VARNELL, - “‘Demonstrator of Anatomy.’” - -Here we find the excretions to be 11 lbs. more than those of the French -horse experimented upon by M. Boussingault; but then the solid food -given to the English horse was 4 lbs. more, and the liquid upwards of 7 -lbs. extra. - -We may then, perhaps, assume, without fear of erring, that the -excrements voided by horses in the course of 24 hours, weigh, at the -least, 45 lbs. - -Hence the gross quantity of dung produced by the 7,300,000 horses which -traverse the London streets in the course of the twelvemonth will be -7,300,000 × 45, or 328,500,000 lbs., which is upwards of 146,651 tons. -But these horses cannot be said to be at work above six hours each day; -we must, therefore, divide the above quantity by four, and thus we -find that there are 36,662 tons of horse-dung annually dropped in the -streets of London. - -I am informed, on good authority, that the evacuations of an ox, in -24 hours, will, on the average, exceed those of a horse in weight by -about a fifteenth, while, if the ox be disturbed by being driven, the -excretions will exceed the horse’s by about a twelfth. As the oxen are -not driven in the streets, or detained in the market for so long a -period as horses are out at work, it may be fair to compute that their -droppings are about the same, individually, as those of the horses. - -Hence, as there are 224,000 horned cattle yearly brought to London, we -have 224,000 × 45 lbs. = 10,080,000 lbs., or 4500 tons, for the gross -quantity of ordure dropped by this number of animals in the course of -24 hours, so that, dividing by 4, as before, we find that there are -1125 tons of ordure annually dropped by the “horned cattle” in the -streets of London. - -Concerning the sheep, I am told that it may be computed that the -ordure of five sheep is about equal in weight to that of two oxen. As -regards the other animals it may be said that their “droppings” are -insignificant, the pigs and calves being very generally carted to and -from the market, as, indeed, are some of the fatter and more valuable -sheep and lambs. All these facts being taken into consideration, I am -told, by a regular frequenter of Smithfield market, that it will be -best to calculate the droppings of each of the 1,617,300 sheep, calves, -and pigs yearly coming to the metropolis at about one-fourth of those -of the horned cattle; so that multiplying 1,617,300 by 10, instead of -45, we have 16,173,000 lbs., or 7220 tons, for the weight of ordure -deposited by the entire number of sheep, calves, and pigs annually -brought to the metropolis, and then dividing this by 4, as usual, we -find that the droppings of the calves, sheep, and pigs in the streets -of London amount to 1805 tons per annum. - -Now putting together all the preceding items we obtain the following -results:-- - - -GROSS WEIGHT OF THE HORSE-DUNG AND CATTLE-DROPPINGS ANNUALLY DEPOSITED -IN THE STREETS OF LONDON:-- - - Tons. - Horse-dung 36,662 - Droppings of horned cattle 1,125 - Droppings of sheep, calves, and pigs 1,805 - ------ - 39,592 - -Hence we perceive that the gross weight of animal excretions dropped -in the public thoroughfares of the metropolis is about 40,000 tons per -annum, or, in round numbers, 770 tons every week-day--say 100 tons a -day. - -This, I am well aware, is a low estimate, but it appears to me that -the facts will not warrant any other conclusion. And yet the Board of -Health, who seem to delight in “large” estimates, represent the amount -of animal manure deposited in the streets of London at no less than -200,000 tons per annum. - -“Between the Quadrant in Regent-street and Oxford-street,” says the -first Report on the Supply of Water to the Metropolis, “a distance of -a third of a mile, three loads, on the average, of dirt, almost all -horse-dung, are removed daily. On an estimate made from the working -of the street-sweeping machine, in one quarter of the City of London, -which includes lines of considerable traffic, the quantity of dung -dropped must be upwards of 60 tons, or about 20,000 tons per annum, -and this, on a City district, which comprises about one-twentieth only -of the covered area of the metropolis, though within that area there -is the greatest proportionate amount of traffic. Though the data are -extremely imperfect, it is considered that the horse-dung which falls -in the streets of the whole metropolis _cannot be less than 200,000 -tons a year_.” - -Hence, although the data are imperfect, the Board of Health do not -hesitate to conclude that the gross quantity of horse-dung dropped -throughout every part of London--back streets and all--is equal to -one-half of that let fall in the greatest London thoroughfares. -According to this estimate, all and every of the 24,000 London horses -must void, in the course of the six hours that they are at work in the -streets, not less than 51 lbs. of excrement, which is at the rate of -very nearly 2 cwt. in the course of the day, or voiding only 49 lbs. -in the twenty-four hours, they must remain out altogether, and never -return to the stable for rest!!! - -Mr. Cochrane is far less hazardous than the Board of Health, and -appears to me to arrive at his result in a more scientific and -conclusive manner. He goes first to the Stamp Office to ascertain the -number of horses in the metropolis, and then requests the professors -of the Veterinary College to estimate the average quantity of -excretions produced by a horse in the course of 24 hours. All this -accords with the soundest principles of inquiry, and stands out in -startling contrast with the unphilosophical plan pursued by the Board -of Health, who obtain the result of the most crowded thoroughfare, and -then halving this, frame an exaggerated estimate for the whole of the -metropolis. - -But Mr. Cochrane himself appears to me to exceed that just caution -which is so necessary in all statistical calculations. Having -ascertained that a horse voids 49 lbs. of dung in the course of 24 -hours, he makes the whole of the 24,214 horses in the metropolis drop -30 lbs. daily in the streets, so that, according to his estimate, not -only must every horse in London be out every day, but he must be at -work in the public thoroughfares for very nearly 15 hours out of the 24! - -The following is the estimate made by Mr. Cochrane:-- - - Daily weight of manure deposited in the streets by 24,214 horses × 30 - lbs. = 726,420 lbs., or 324 tons, 5 cwt., 100 lbs. - - Weekly weight, 2270 tons, 1 cwt., 28 lbs. - - Annual weight, 118,043 tons, 5 cwt. - - Tons or cart-loads deposited annually, valued at 6_s._ × 118,043 = - 35,412_l._ 19_s._ 6_d._ - -It has, then, been here shown that, assuming the number of horses -worked daily in the streets of London to be 20,000, and each to be -out six hours _per diem_, which, it appears to me, is all that can be -fairly reckoned, the quantity of horse-dung dropped weekly is about 700 -tons, so that, including the horses of the cavalry regiments in London, -which of course are not comprised in the Stamp-Office returns, as well -as the animals taken to Smithfield, we may, perhaps, assert that the -annual ordure let fall in the London streets amounts, at the outside, -to somewhere about 1000 tons weekly, or 52,000 tons per annum. - -The next question becomes--what is done with this vast amount of filth? - -The Board of Health is a much better guide upon this point than -upon the matter of quantity: “Much of the horse-dung dropped in the -London streets, under ordinary circumstances,” we are told, “dries -and is pulverized, and with the common soil is carried into houses as -dust, and dirties clothes and furniture. The odour arising from the -surface evaporation of the streets when they are wet is chiefly from -horse-dung. Susceptible persons often feel this evaporation, after -partial wetting, to be highly oppressive. The surface-water discharged -into sewers from the streets and roofs of houses is found to contain as -much filth as the soil-water from the house-drains.” - -Here, then, we perceive that the whole of the animal manure let fall -in the streets is worse than wasted, and yet we are assured that it is -an article, which, if properly collected, is of considerable value. -“It is,” says the Report of the National Philanthropic Association, -“an article of Agricultural and Horticultural commerce which has -ever maintained a high value with the farmers and market-gardeners, -wherever conveniently obtainable. When these cattle-droppings can be -collected _unmixed_, in dry weather, they bear an acknowledged value -by the grazier and root-grower;--there being no other kind of manure -which fertilizes the land so bounteously. Mr. Marnock, Curator of the -Royal Botanical Society, has valued them at from 5_s._ to 10_s._ per -load; according to the season of the year. The United Paving Board -of St. Giles and St. George, since the introduction of the Street -Orderly System into their parishes, has wisely had it collected in a -state separate from all admixture, and sold it at highly remunerative -prices, rendering it the means of considerably lessening the expense of -cleansing the streets.” - -Now, assuming the value of the street-dropped manure to be 6_s._ per -ton when collected free from dirt, we have the following statement as -to the value of the horse and cattle-voidances let fall in the streets -of London:-- - - 52,000 tons of cattle-droppings, - at 6_s._ per ton £15,600 0 0 - -Mr. Cochrane, who considers the quantity of animal-droppings to be much -greater, attaches of course a greater value to the aggregate quantity. -His computation is as follows:-- - - 118,043 tons of cattle-droppings, - at 6_s._ per ton £35,412 19 6 - -It seems to me that the calculations of the quantity of horse and -cattle-dung in the streets, are based on such well-authenticated and -scientific foundations, that their accuracy can hardly be disputed, -unless it be that a higher average might fairly be shown. - -Whatever estimate be adopted, the worth of street-dropped animal -manure, if properly secured and made properly disposable, is great and -indisputable; most assuredly between 10,000_l._ and 20,000_l._ in value. - - -OF STREET “MAC” AND OTHER MUD. - -First of that kind of mud known by the name of “mac.” - -The scavengers call mud all that is _swept_ from the granite or wood -pavements, in contradistinction to “mac,” which is both _scraped_ and -swept on the macadamized roads. The mud is usually carted apart from -the “mac,” but some contractors cause their men to shovel every kind of -dirt they meet with into the same cart. - -The introduction of Mac Adam’s system of road-making into the streets -of London called into existence a new element in what is accounted -street refuse. Until of late years little attention was paid to -“Mac,” for it was considered in no way distinct from other kinds -of street-dirt, nor as being likely to possess properties which -might adapt it for any other use than that of a component part of -agricultural manure. - -“Mac” is found principally on the roads from which it derives its name, -and is, indeed, the grinding and pounding of the imbedded pieces of -granite, which are the staple of those roads. It is, perhaps, the most -adhesive street-dirt known, as respects the London specimen of it; for -the exceeding traffic works and kneads it into a paste which it is -difficult to remove from the texture of any garment splashed or soiled -with it. - -“Mac” is carted away by the scavengers in great quantities, being -shovelled, in a state of more or less fluidity or solidity, according -to the weather, from the road-side into their carts. Quantities are -also swept with the rain into the drains of the streets, and not -unfrequently quantities are found deposited in the sewers. - -The following passage from “Sanatory Progress,” a work before -alluded to, cites the opinion of Lord Congleton as to the necessity -of continually removing the mud from roads. I may add that Lord -Congleton’s work on road-making is of high authority, and has -frequently been appealed to in parliamentary discussions, inquiries, -and reports on the subject. - -“The late Lord Congleton (Sir Henry Parnell) stated before a Committee -of the House of Commons, in June, 1838, ‘a road should be cleansed -from time to time, so as _never_ to have half an inch of mud upon -it; and this is particularly necessary to be attended to where the -materials are _weak_; for, if the surface be not kept clean, so as -to admit of its becoming dry in the intervals between showers of -rain, it will be rapidly worn away.’ How truly,” adds the Report, -“is his Lordship’s opinion verified every day on the macadamized -roads in and around London! * * * * * * The horse-manure and other -filth are there allowed to accumulate, and to be carried about by -the horses and carriage-wheels; the road is formed into cavities and -mud-hollows, which, being wetted by the rain and the constantly plying -_watering-carts_, retain the same. Thus, not only are vast quantities -of offensive mud formed, but puddles and _pools of water_ also; which -water, not being allowed to run off to the side gutter, by declivity, -owing to the _mud embankments_ which surround it, naturally _percolates -through the surface of the road, dissolving and loosening the soft -earthy matrix_ by which the broken granite is surrounded and fixed.” - -The quantity of “mac” produced is the next consideration, and -in endeavouring to ascertain this there are no specific data, -though there are what, under other circumstances, might be called -circumstantial or inferential evidence. - -I have shown both the length of the streets and roads and the -proportion which might be pronounced macadamized ways in the Metropolis -Proper. But as in the macadamized proportion many thoroughfares cannot -be strictly considered as yielding “mac,” I will assume that the roads -and streets producing this kind of dirt, more or less fully, are 1200 -miles in length. - -On the busier macadamized roads in the vicinity of what may be called -the interior of London, it is common, I was told by experienced men, in -average weather, to collect daily two cart-loads of what is called mac, -from every mile of road. The mass of such road-produce, however, is -mixed, though the “mac” unquestionably predominates. It was described -to me as mac, general dirt, and droppings, more than the half being -“mac.” In wet weather there is at least twenty times more “mac” than -dung scavenged; but in dry weather the dung and other street-refuse -constitute, perhaps, somewhat less than three-fourths of each -cart-load. The “mac” in dry weather is derived chiefly from the fluid -from the watering carts mixing with the dust, and so forming a paste -capable of being removed by the scraper of the scavenger. - -It may be fair to assume that every mile of the roads in question, some -of them being of considerable width, yields at least one cart-load of -“mac,” as a daily average, Sunday of course excepted. An intelligent -man, who had the management of the “mac” and other street collections -in a contractor’s wharf, told me that in a load of “mac” carted from -the road to any place of deposit, there was (I now use his own words) -“a good deal of water; for there’s great difference,” he added, “in the -_stiffness_ of the “mac” on different roads, that seem very much the -same to look at. But that don’t signify a halfpenny-piece,” he said, -“for if the ‘mac’ is wanted for any purpose, and let be for a little -time, you see, sir, the water will dry up, and leave the proper stuff. -I haven’t any doubt whatever that two loads a mile are collected in -the way you’ve been told, and that a load and a quarter of the two is -‘mac,’ though after the water is dried up out of it there mightn’t be -much more than a load. So if you want to calculate what the quantity of -‘mac’ is by itself, I think you had best say one load a mile.” - -But it is only in the more frequented approaches to the City or the -West-end, such as the Knightsbridge-road, the New-road, the Old -Kent-road, and thoroughfares of similar character as regards the -extent of traffic, that two loads of refuse are daily collected. On -the more distant roads, beyond the bounds traversed by the omnibuses -for instance, or beyond the roads resorted to by the market gardeners -on their way to the metropolitan “green” markets, the supply of -street-refuse is hardly a quarter as great; one man thought it was a -third, and another only a sixth of a load a day in quiet places. - -Calculating then, in order to be within the mark, that the macadamized -roads afford daily two loads of dirt per mile, and reckoning the great -macadamized streets at 100 miles in length, we have the following -results:-- - - -QUANTITY OF STREET-REFUSE COLLECTED FROM THE MORE FREQUENTED -MACADAMIZED THOROUGHFARES. - - Loads. - 100 miles, 2 loads per day 200 - „ Weekly amount 1,200 - „ Yearly amount 62,400 - - -PROPORTION OF “MAC” IN THE ABOVE. - - 100 miles, 1 load per day 100 - „ Weekly 600 - „ Yearly 31,200 - -To this amount must be added the quantity supplied by the more -distant and less frequented roads situate within the precincts of the -Metropolis Proper. These I will estimate at one-eighth less than that -of the roads of greater traffic. Some of the more quiet thoroughfares, -I should add, are not scavenged more than once a week, and some less -frequently; but on some there is considerable traffic. - - -QUANTITY OF STREET-REFUSE COLLECTED FROM THE LESS FREQUENTED -MACADAMIZED THOROUGHFARES. - - Loads. - 1100 miles, 1/4 load per day 275 - „ Weekly 1,650 - „ Yearly 85,800 - -The proportion of mac to the gross dirt collected is greater in the -more distant roads than what I have already described, but to be safe I -will adopt the same ratio. - - -PROPORTION OF “MAC.” - - Loads. - 1100 miles of road, 1/8 load per day 137 - „ Weekly 825 - „ Yearly 42,900 - - -YEARLY TOTAL OF THE GROSS QUANTITY OF STREET-REFUSE, WITH THE -PROPORTIONATE QUANTITY OF “MAC” COLLECTED FROM THE MACADAMIZED -THOROUGHFARES OF THE METROPOLIS. - - ---------------------------+-------------+--------- - | Street | - | Refuse. | “Mac.” - ---------------------------+-------------+--------- - | Cart-loads. | Loads. - 100 miles of macadamized | | - roads | 62,400 | 31,200 - 1100 miles ditto ditto | 85,800 | 42,900 - | -------- | ------ - | 148,200 | 74,100 - ---------------------------+-------------+--------- - -Thus upwards of 74,000 cart-loads of “mac” are, at a low computation, -annually scraped and swept from the metropolitan thoroughfares. - - * * * * * - -So far as to the _quantity_ of “mac” collected, and now as to its -_uses_. - -“‘Mac,’ or _Macadam_,” says one of Mr. Cochrane’s Reports, “is a grand -prize to the scavenging contractor, who finds ready vend and a high -price for it among the builders and brick-makers. Those who _paid_ for -the road--and their surveyors, _possibly_--know nothing of its value, -or of their own loss by its removal from the road; they consider it -in the light of _dirt_--_offensive_ dirt--and are glad to _pay_ the -scavenger for carrying it away! When the _broom_ comes, the scavenger’s -men take care to go _deep_ enough; and many of them are, moreover, -instructed to keep the ‘_mac_’ as free from admixture with foreign -substances as possible; for, though cattle-dung be valuable enough in -itself, the ‘_mac_’ loses _its_ value to the builder and brickmaker by -being _mixed with it_. Indeed, both are valuable for their respective -uses if kept separate, not otherwise.” - -On my first making inquiries as to the uses and value of “mac,” I was -frequently told that it was utterly valueless, and that great trouble -and expense were incurred in merely getting rid of it. That this is the -case with many contractors is, doubtlessly, the fact; for now, unless -the “mac,” or, rather, the general road-dirt, be ordered, or a market -for it be assured, it must be got rid of without a remuneration. Even -when the contractor can shoot the “mac” in his own yard, and keep it -there for a customer, there is the cost of re-loading and re-carting; -a cost which a customer requiring to use it at any distance may not -choose to incur. Great quantities of “mac,” therefore, are wasted; and -more would be wasted, were there places to waste it in. - -Let me, therefore, before speaking of the uses and sale of it, -point out some of the reasons for this wasting of the “mac” with -other street-dirt. In the first place, the weight of a cart-load -of street-refuse of any kind is usually estimated at a ton; but I -am assured that the weight of a cart-load of “stiff mac” is a ton -and a quarter at the least; and this weight becomes so trying to a -scavenger’s horse, as the day’s work advances, that the contractor, to -spare the animal, is often glad to get rid of the “mac” in any manner -and without any remuneration. Thousands of loads of “mac,” or rather of -mixed street-dirt, have for this, and other reasons, been thrown away; -and no small quantity has been thrown down the gulley-holes, to find -its way into that main metropolitan sewer, the Thames. Of this matter, -however, I shall have to speak hereafter. - -There is no doubt that it is common for contractors to represent -the “mac” they collect as being utterly valueless, and indeed an -incumbrance. The “mixed mac,” as I have said, may be so. Some -contractors urge, especially in their bargains with the parish -board, that all kinds of street dirt are not only worthless, but -expensive to be got rid of. Five or six years ago, this was urged -very strenuously, for then there was what was accounted a combination -among the contractors. The south-west district of St. Pancras, until -within the last six years, _received_ from the contractor for the -public scavengery, 100_l._ for the year’s aggregation of street and -house dirt. Since then, however, they have had to pay him 500_l._ for -removing it. - -Notwithstanding the reluctance of some of the contractors to give -information on this, or indeed any subject connected with their trade, -I have ascertained from indubitable authority, that “mac” is disposed -of in the following manner. Some, but this is mostly the mixed kind, -is got rid of in _any_ manner; it has even been diluted with water so -as to be driven down the drains. Some is mixed with the general street -ordure--about a quarter of “mac,” I was told, to three-quarters of dung -and street mud--and shipped off in barges as manure. Some is given to -builders, when they require it for the foundations of any edifices that -are “handy,” or rather it is carted thither for a nominal price, such -as a trifle as beer-money for the men. Some, however, is _sold_ for the -same purpose, the contractors alleging that the charge is merely for -cartage. Some, again, is given away or sold (with the like allegation) -for purposes of levelling, of filling up cavities, or repairing -unevennesses in any ground where improvements are being carried on; -and, finally, some is sold to masons, plasterers, and brickmakers, for -the purposes of their trade. - -Even for such purposes as “filling up,” there must be in the “mixed -mac” supplied, at least a considerable preponderance of the pure -material, or there would not be, as I heard it expressed, a sufficient -“setting” for what was required. - -As a set-off to what is sold, however, I may here state that 30_s._ has -been paid for the privilege of depositing a barge-load of mixed street -dirt in Battersea-fields, merely to get rid of it. - -The principal use of the unmixed “mac” is as a component part of the -mortar, or lime, of the mason in the exterior, and of the plasterer in -the interior, construction of buildings, and as an ingredient of the -mill in brick-grounds. - -The accounts I received of the properties of “mac” from the vendors of -it, were very contradictory. One man, until lately connected with its -sale, informed me that as far as his own experience extended, “mac” -was most in demand among scamping builders, and slop brickmakers, who -looked only to what was cheap. To a notorious “scamper,” he one morning -sent three cart-loads of “mac” at 1_s._ a load, all to be used in the -erection of the skeleton of one not very large house; and he believed -that when it was used instead of sand with lime, it was for inferior -work only, and was mixed, either for masons’ or plasterers’ work, with -bad, low-priced mortar. Another man, with equal knowledge of the trade, -however, represented “mac” as a most valuable article for the builder’s -purposes, it was “so _binding_,” and this he repeated emphatically. A -working builder told me that “mac” was as good as the best sand; it -made the mortar “hang,” and without either that or sand, the lime would -“brittle” away. - -“Mac” may be said to be composed of pulverised granite and rain water. -Granite is composed of quartz, felspar, and mica, each in granular -crystals. Hence, alumina being clay, and silex a substance which has a -strong tendency to enter into combination with the lime of the mortar, -the pulverizing of granite tends to produce a substance which has -necessarily great binding and indurating properties. - -From this reduction of “mac” to its elements, it is manifest that it -possesses qualities highly valuable in promoting the cohesive property -of mortar, so that, were greater attention paid to its collection by -the scavenger, there would, in all probability, be an improved demand -for the article, for I find that it is already used in the prosecution -of some of the best masons’ work. On this head I can cite the authority -of a gentleman, at once a scientific and practical architect, who said -to me,-- - -“‘Mac’ is used by many respectable builders for making mortar. The -objection to it is, that it usually contains much extraneous decaying -matter.” - -Increased care in the collection of the material would, perhaps, remove -this cause of complaint. - -I heard of one West-end builder, employing many hands, however, who had -totally or partially discontinued the use of “mac,” as he had met with -some which he considered showed itself _brittle_ in the plastering of -walls. - -“Mac,” is pounded, and sometimes sifted, when required for use, and is -then mixed and “worked up” with the lime for mortar, in the same way as -sand. By the brickmakers it is mixed with the clay, ground, and formed -into bricks in a similar manner. - -Of the proportion sold to builders, plasterers, and brickmakers, -severally, I could learn no precise particulars. The general opinion -appears to be, that “mac” is sold most to brickmakers, and that it -would find even a greater sale with them, were not brick-fields -becoming more and more remote. I moreover found it universally -admitted, that “mac” was in less demand--some said by one-half--than it -was five or six years back. - - * * * * * - -Such are the _uses_ of “mac,” and we now come to the question of its -_value_. - -The price of the purer “mac” seems, from the best information I can -procure, to have varied considerably. It is now generally cheap. I -did not hear any very sufficing reason advanced to account for the -depreciation, but one of the contractors expressed an opinion that this -was owing to the “disturbed” state of the trade. Since the passing of -the Sanitary Bill, the contractors for the public scavengery have been -prevented “shooting” any valueless street-dirt, or dirt “not worth -carriage” in convenient waste-places, as they were once in the habit -of doing. Their yards and wharfs are generally full, so that, to avoid -committing a nuisance, the contractor will not unfrequently sell his -“mac” at reduced rates, and be glad thus to get rid of it. To this -cause especially Mr. ---- attributed the deterioration in the price of -“mac,” but if he had convenience, he told me, and any change was made -in the present arrangements, he would not scruple to store 1000 loads -for the demands of next summer, as a speculation. I am of opinion, -moreover, notwithstanding what seemed something very like unanimity -of opinion on the part of the sellers of “mac,” that what is given or -thrown away is usually, if not always, _mixed_ or inferior “mac,” and -that what is sold at the lowest rate is only a degree or two better; -unless, indeed, it be under the immediate pressure of some of the -circumstances I have pointed out, as want of room, &c. - -On inquiring the price of “mac,” I believe the answer of a vendor -will almost invariably be found to be “a shilling a load;” a little -further inquiry, however, shows that an extra sum may have to be paid. -A builder, who gave me the information, asked a parish contractor the -price of “mac.” The contractor at once offered to supply him with 500 -loads at 1_s._ a load, if the “mac” were ordered beforehand, and could -be shot at once; but it would be 6_d._ a mile extra if delivered a mile -out of the mac-seller’s parish circuit, or more than a mile from his -yard; while, if extra care were to be taken in the collection of the -“mac,” it would be 2_d._, 3_d._, 4_d._, or 6_d._ a load higher. This, -it must be understood, was the price of “_wet_ mac.” - -Good “_dry_ mac,” that is to say, “mac” ready for use, is sold to the -builder or the brickmaker at from 2_s._ to 3_s._ the load; 2_s._ 6_d._, -or something very near it, being now about an average price. It is -dried in the contractor’s yard by being exposed to the sun, or it is -sometimes protected from the weather by a shed, while being dried. More -wet “mac” would be shot for the trade, and kept until dry, but for want -of room in the contractors’ yards and wharfs; for “mac” must give way -to the more valuable dung, and the dust and ashes from the bins. The -best “mac” is sometimes described as “country mac,” that is to say, it -is collected from those suburban roads where it is likely to be little -mixed with dung, &c. - -A contractor told me that during the last twelve months he had sold 300 -loads of “mac;” he had no account of what he had given away, to be rid -of it, or of what he had sold at nominal prices. Another contractor, I -was told by his managing man, sold last year about 400 loads. But both -these parties are “in a large way,” and do not supply the data upon -which to found a calculation as to an average yearly sale; for though -in the metropolis there are, according to the list I have given in p. -167 of the present volume, 63 contracts, for cleansing the metropolis, -without including the more remote suburbs, such as Greenwich, Lewisham, -Tooting, Streatham, Ealing, Brentford, and others--still some of the -districts contracted for yield no “mac” at all. - -From what I consider good authority, I may venture upon the following -moderate computation as to the quantity of “mac” sold last year. - -Estimating the number of contracts for cleansing the more central -parishes at 35, and adding 20 for all the outlying parishes of the -metropolis--in some of which the supply of road “mac” is very fine, and -by no means scarce--it may be accurate enough to state that, out of -the 55 individual contracts, 300 loads of “mac” were sold by each in -the course of last year. This gives 16,500 loads of “mac” disposed of -per annum. It may, moreover, be a reasonable estimate to consider this -“mac,” wet and dry together, as fetching 1_s._ 6_d._ a load, so that we -have for the sum realized the following result:-- - - 16,500 loads of “mac,” at 1_s._ 6_d._ - per load £1237 10 - -It may probably be considered by the contractors that 1_s._ 6_d._ is -too high an average of price per load: if the price be minimized the -result will be-- - - 16,500 loads of “mac,” at 1_s._ per - load £825 - -Then if we divide the first estimate among the 55 contractors, we find -that they receive upwards of 22_l._ each; the second estimate gives -nearly 15_l._ each. - -I repeat, that in this inquiry I can but approximate. One gentleman -told me he thought the quantity of “mac” thus sold in the year was -twice 1600 loads; another asserted that it was not 1000. I am assured, -however, that my calculation does not exceed the truth. - -I have given the full quantity of “mac,” as nearly, I believe, as it -can be computed, to be yielded by the metropolitan thoroughfares; the -surplusage, after deducting the 1600 loads sold, must be regarded as -consisting of mixed, and therefore useless, “mac;” that is to say, -“mac” rendered so _thin_ by continuous wet weather, that it is little -worth; “mac” wasted because it is not storeable in the contractor’s -yard; and “mac” used as a component part of a barge-load of manure. - -In the course of my inquiries I heard it very generally stated that -until five or six years ago 2_s._ 6_d._ might be considered a regular -price for a load of “mac,” while 4_s._, 5_s._, or even 6_s._ have been -paid to one contractor, according to his own account, for the better -kind of this commodity. - - -OF THE MUD OF THE STREETS. - -The dirt yielded by a macadamized road, no matter what the composition, -is always termed by the scavengers “_mac_;” what is yielded by a -granite-paved way is always “_mud_.” Mixed mud and “mac” are generally -looked upon as useless. - -I inquired of one man, connected with a contractor’s wharf, if he could -readily distinguish the difference between “mac” and other street or -mixed dirts, and he told me that he could do so, more especially when -the stuff was sufficiently dried or set, at a glance. “If mac was -darker,” he said, “it always looked brighter than other street-dirts, -as if all the colour was not ground out of the stone.” He pointed out -the different kinds, and his definition seemed to me not a bad one, -although it may require a practised eye to make the distinction readily. - -Street-mud is only partially mud, for mud is earthy particles saturated -with water, and in the composition of the scavenger’s street-mud are -dung, general refuse (such as straw and vegetable remains), and the -many things which in poor neighbourhoods are still thrown upon the -pavement. - -In the busier thoroughfares of the metropolis--apart from the City, -where there is no macadamization requiring notice--it is almost -impossible to keep street “mac” and mud distinct, even if the -scavengers cared more to do so than is the case at present; for a -waggon, or any other vehicle, entering a street paved with blocks of -wrought granite from a macadamized road must convey “mac” amongst mud; -both “mac” and mud, however, as I have stated, are the most valuable -separately. - -In a Report on the Supply of Water, Appendix No. III., Mr. Holland, -Upper Stamford-street, Waterloo-road, is stated to have said, in reply -to a question on the subject:--“Suppose the inhabitants of one parish -are desirous of having their streets in good order and clean: unless -the adjoining districts concur, a great and unjust expense is imposed -upon the cleaner parish; because every vehicle which passes from a -dirty on to a clean street carries dirt from the former to the latter, -and renders cleanliness more difficult and expensive. The inhabitants -of London have an interest in the condition of other streets besides -those of their own parish. Besides the inhabitants of Regent-street, -for instance, all the riders in the 5000 vehicles that daily pass -through that great thoroughfare are affected by its condition; and the -inhabitants of Regent-street, who have to bear the cost of keeping -that street in good repair and well cleansed, _for others’ benefit -as well as for their own_, may fairly feel aggrieved if they do not -experience the benefits of good and clean streets when they go into -other districts.” - -In the admixture of street-dirt there is this material difference--the -dung, which spoils good “mac,” makes good mud more valuable. - -After having treated so fully of the road-produce of “mac,” there seems -no necessity to say more about mud than to consider its quantity, its -value, and its uses. - -In the Haymarket, which is about an eighth of a mile in length, and -18 yards in width, a load and a half of street-mud is collected -daily (Sundays excepted), take the year through. As a farmer or -market-gardener will give 3_s._ a load for common street-mud, and -cart it away at his own cost, we find that were all this mud sold -separately, at the ordinary rate, the yearly receipt for one street -alone would be 70_l._ 4_s._ This public way, however, furnishes no -criterion of the general mud-produce of the metropolis. We must, -therefore, adopt some other basis for a calculation; and I have -mentioned the Haymarket merely to show the great extent of street-dirt -accruing in a largely-frequented locality. - -But to obtain other data is a matter of no small difficulty where -returns are not published nor even kept. I have, however, been -fortunate enough to obtain the assistance of gentlemen whose public -employment has given them the best means of forming an accurate opinion. - -The street mud from the Haymarket, it has been positively ascertained, -is 1-1/4 load each wet day the year through. Fleet-street, -Ludgate-hill, Cheapside, Newgate-street, the “off” parts of St. Paul’s -Church-yard, Cornhill, Leadenhall-street, Bishopsgate-street, the free -bridges, with many other places where locomotion never ceases, are, in -proportion to their width, as productive of street mud as the Haymarket. - -Were the Haymarket a mile in length, it would supply, at its present -rate of traffic, to the scavenger 6 loads of street mud daily, or -36 loads for the scavenger’s working week. In this yield, however, -I am assured by practical men, the Haymarket is six times in excess -of the average streets; and when compared with even “great business” -thoroughfares, of a narrow character, such as Watling-street, Bow-lane, -Old-change, and other thoroughfares off Cheapside and Cornhill, the -produce of the Haymarket is from 10 to 40 per cent. in excess. - -I am assured, however, and especially by a gentleman who had -looked closely into the matter--as he at one time had been engaged -in preparing estimates for a projected company purposing to deal -with street-manures--that the 50 miles of the City may be safely -calculated as yielding daily 1-1/2 load of street mud per mile. Narrow -streets--Thames-street for instance, which is about three-quarters -of a mile long--yield from 2-1/2 to 3-1/2 loads daily, according -to the season; but a number of off-streets and open places, such -as Long-alley, Alderman’s-walk, America-square, Monument-yard, -Bridgewater-square, Austin-friars, and the like, are either streets -without horse-thoroughfares, or are seldom traversed by vehicles. If, -then, we calculate that there are 100 miles of paved streets adjoining -the City, and yielding the same quantity of street mud daily as the -above estimate, and 200 more miles in the less central parts of the -metropolis, yielding only half that quantity, we find the following -daily sum during the wet season:-- - - Loads. - 150 miles of paved streets, yielding 1-1/2 - load of street mud per mile 225 - - 200 miles of paved streets, yielding 3/4 - load of street mud per mile 150 - --- - 375 - - Weekly amount of street mud during - the wet season 2,250 - - Total ditto for six months in the year 58,500 - ------ - 63,000 loads of street mud, at 3_s._ per - load £8775 - -The great sale for this mud, perhaps nineteen-twentieths, is from the -barges. A barge of street-manure, about one-fourth (more or less) -“mac,” or rather “mac” mixed with its street proportion of dung, &c., -and three-fourths mud, dung, &c., contains from 30 to 40 tons, or as -many loads. These manure barges are often to be seen on the Thames, -but nearly three-fourths of them are found on the canals, especially -the Paddington, the Regent’s, and the Surrey, these being the most -immediately connected with the interior part of the metropolis. A -barge-load of this manure is usually sold at from 5_l._ to 6_l._ -Calculating its average weight at 35 tons, and its average sale at -5_l._ 10_s._, the price is rather more than 3_s._ a load. “Common -street mud,” I have been informed on good authority, “fetches 3_s._ per -load from the farmer, when he himself carts it away.” - -The price of the barge-load of manure is tolerably uniform, for the -quality is generally the same. Some of the best, because the cleanest, -street mud--as it is mixed only with horse-dung--is obtained from the -wood streets, but this mode of pavement is so circumscribed that the -contractors pay no regard to its manure produce, as a general rule, and -mix it carelessly with the rest. Such, at least, is the account they -themselves give, and they generally represent that the street manure -is, owing to the outlay for cartage and boatage, little remunerative -to them at the prices they obtain; notwithstanding, they are paid to -remove it from the streets. Indeed, I heard of one contractor who was -said to be so dissatisfied with the demand for, and the prices fetched -by, his street-manure, that he has rented a few acres not far from the -Regent’s Canal, to test the efficacy of street dirt as a fertilizer, -and to ascertain if to cultivate might not be more profitable than to -sell. - - -OF THE SURFACE-WATER OF THE STREETS OF LONDON. - -The consideration of what Professor Way has called the “street waters” -of the metropolis, is one of as great moment as any of those I have -previously treated in my details concerning street refuse, whether -“mac,” mud, or dung. Indeed, water enters largely into the composition -of the two former substances, while even the street dung is greatly -affected by the rain. - -The _feeders_ of the street, as regards the street surface-water, -are principally the rains. I will first consider the amount of -surface-water supplied by the rain descending upon the area of the -metropolis: upon the roofs of the houses, and the pavement of the -streets and roads. - -The depth of rain falling in London in the different months, -according to the observations and calculations of the most eminent -meteorologists, is as follows:-- - - ----------+----------------------------------------+------------+--------- - | Depth of Rain in inches. | Quantity of|Number of - +--------------+------------+------------+rain falling| days on - Months. |Royal Society,| Howard, | Daniell, | in the | which - | according to |according to|according to| different | rain - | observation. |observation.|calculation.| seasons. | falls. - ----------+--------------+------------+------------+------------+--------- - January | 1·56 | 1·907 | 1·483 | | 14·4 - February | 1·45 | 1·643 | 0·746 | Winter. | 15·8 - March | 1·36 | 1·542 | 1·440 | 5·868 | 12·7 - April | 1·55 | 1·719 | 1·786 | | 14·0 - May | 1·67 | 2·036 | 1·853 | Spring. | 15·8 - June | 1·98 | 1·964 | 1·830 | 4·813 | 11·8 - July | 2·44 | 2·592 | 2·516 | | 16·1 - August | 2·37 | 2·134 | 1·453 | Summer. | 16·3 - September | 2·97 | 1·644 | 2·193 | 6·682 | 12·3 - October | 2·46 | 2·872 | 2·073 | | 16·2 - November | 2·58 | 2·637 | 2·400 | Autumn. | 15·0 - December | 1·65 | 2·489 | 2·426 | 7·441 | 17·7 - ----------+--------------+------------+------------+------------+--------- - Totals | 24·04 | 25·179 | 22·199 | 24·804 | 178·1 - -------------------------+------------+------------+------------+--------- - -The rainfall in London, according to a ten years’ average of the -Royal Society’s observations, amounts to 23 inches; in 1848 it was as -high as 28 inches, and in 1847 as low as 15 inches. The depth of rain -annually falling near London is stated by Mr. Luke Howard to be, on an -average of 23 years (1797-1819), as much as 25·179 inches. Mr. Daniell -says that the average annual fall is 23-1/10 inches. The mean of the -observations made at Greenwich between the years 1838 and 1849 was -24·84 inches. - -The following extract from an account of the “Soft Water Springs of the -Surrey Sands,” by the Hon. Wm. Napier, is interesting. - -“The amount of rainfall,” says the Author, “is taken from a register -kept at the Royal Military College, Sandhurst, from the year 1818 to -1846. - -“The average fall of the last 15 years, during which time the register -appears to have been correctly kept, is 22·64 inches. I consider -this to be a very low estimate, however, of the average rainfall -over the whole district. The fall on the ranges of the Hindhead must -considerably exceed this amount, for I find in White’s ‘Selborne,’ a -register for ten years at that place; the greatest fall being in 1782, -50·26 inches, the lowest, in 1788, 22·50 inches, and the average of all -37·58 inches. The elevation of the Hindhead is about 800 feet above -mean tide. - -“With reference to the measurement of rainfall, it is difficult indeed -to obtain more than a very approximate idea for a given district of not -very great extent; the method of measurement is so uncertain, as liable -to be affected by currents of air and evaporation. It is well known -that elevated regions attract by condensation more rain than low lands, -and yet a rain-gauge placed on the ground will register a greater fall -than one placed immediately, and even at a small height, above it. - -“M. Arago has shown from 12 years’ observations at Paris, that the -average depth of rain on the terrace of the Observatory was 19·88 -inches, while 30 yards lower it was 22·21 inches. Dr. Heberden has -shown the rainfall on the top of Westminster Cathedral, during a -certain period to be only 12·09 inches, and at a lower level on the top -of a house in the neighbourhood to be 22·608 inches. This fact has been -observed all over the world, and I can only account for it as arising -partly from the greater amount of condensation the nearer the earth’s -surface, but probably also from currents of air depriving a rain-gauge -at a high elevation of its fair share.” - -The results of the above observations, as to the yearly quantity of -rain falling in the metropolis, may be summed up as follows:-- - - Inches of - Rain falling - Annually. - Royal Society (average of 20 years) 24·04 - Mr. Howard (average of 23 years) 25·179 - Professor Daniell 22·199 - Dr. Heberden 22·608 - ------ - Mean 23·506 - -The “mean mean,” or average of all the averages here given is within a -fraction the average of the Royal Society’s Observations for 10 years, -and this is the quantity that I shall adopt in my calculations as to -the gross volume of rain falling over the entire area of London. - -I have shown, by a detail of the respective districts in the Registrar -General’s department, that the metropolis contains 74,070 statute -acres. Every square inch of this extent, as garden, arable, or -pasture ground, or as road or street, or waste place, or house, or -inclosed yard or lawn, of course receives its modicum of rain. Each -acre comprises 6,272,640 square inches, and we thus find the whole -metropolitan area to contain a number of square inches, almost beyond -the terms of popular arithmetic, and best expressible in figures. - -Area of metropolis in square inches, 464,614,444,800. Now, multiplying -these four hundred and sixty four thousand, six hundred and fourteen -millions, four hundred and forty-four thousand, eight hundred square -inches, by 23, the number of inches of rain falling every year in -London, we have the following result:-- - -Total quantity of rain falling yearly in the metropolis, -10,686,132,230,400 cubic inches. - -Then, as a fraction more than 277-1/4 cubic inches of water represent -a weight of 10 lbs., and an admeasurement of a gallon, we have the -following further results:-- - - ------------------+-----------------------+----------------------- - | Weight in pounds | Admeasurement - | and tons. | in gallons. - ------------------+-----------------------+----------------------- - Yearly Rainfall } | 385,399,721,220 lbs., | - in the } | or | 38,539,972,122 gals. - Metropolis } | 172,053,447 tons. | - ------------------+-----------------------+----------------------- - -The total quantity of water mechanically supplied every day to the -metropolis is said to be in round numbers 55,000,000 gallons, the -amount being made up in the following manner:-- - - -DAILY MECHANICAL SUPPLY OF WATER TO METROPOLIS. - - Sources of Supply. Average No. of - Gallons per day. - New River 14,149,315 - East London 8,829,462 - Chelsea 3,940,730 - West Middlesex 3,334,054 - Grand Junction 3,532,013 - Lambeth 3,077,260 - Southwark and Vauxhall 6,313,716 - Kent 1,079,311 - Hampstead 427,468 - Total from Companies 44,383,329 - Artesian Wells 8,000,000 - Land Spring Pumps 3,000,000 - ----------- - Total daily 55,383,329 - - -YEARLY MECHANICAL SUPPLY OF WATER. - - From Companies 16,200,000,000 gals. - „ Artesian Wells 1,920,000,000 „ - „ Land Spring Pumps 1,095,000,000 „ - -------------- - Total yearly 19,215,000,000 „ - -Hence it would appear that the rain falling in London in the course of -the year is _rather more than double that of the entire quantity of -water annually supplied to the metropolis by mechanical means_, the -rain-water being to the other as 2·005 to 1·000. - -Now, in order to ascertain what proportion of the entire volume of rain -comes under the denomination of street surface-water, we must first -deduct from the gross quantity falling the amount said to be caught, -and which, in contradistinction to that mechanically _supplied_ to -the houses of the metropolis is termed, “catch.” This is estimated at -1,000,000 gallons per diem, or 365,000,000 gallons yearly. - -But we must also subtract from the gross quantity of rain-water that -which falls on the roofs as well as on the “back premises” and yards -of houses, and is carried off directly to the drains without appearing -in the streets. This must be a considerable proportion of the whole, -since the streets themselves, allowing them to be ten yards wide on an -average, would seem to occupy only about one-tenth part of the entire -metropolitan area, so that the rain falling _directly_ upon the public -thoroughfares will be but a tithe of the aggregate quantity. But the -surface-water of the streets is increased largely by tributary shoots -from courts and drainless houses, and hence we may fairly assume -the _natural_ supply to be doubled by such means. At this rate the -volume of rain-water annually poured into and upon the metropolitan -thoroughfares by natural means, will be between five and six thousand -millions of gallons, or one hundred times the quantity that is daily -supplied to the houses of the metropolis by mechanical agency. - -Still only a part of this quantity appears in the form of -surface-water, for a considerable portion of it is absorbed by the -ground on which it falls--especially in dry weather--serving either to -“lay the dust,” or to convert it into mud. Due regard, therefore, being -had to all these considerations, we cannot, consistently with that -caution which is necessary in all statistical inquiries, estimate the -surface-water of the London streets at more than one thousand millions -of gallons per annum, or twenty times the daily mechanical supply to -the houses of the entire metropolis, and which it has been asserted is -sufficient to exhaust a lake covering the area of St. James’s-park, 30 -inches in depth. - -The quantity of water annually poured upon the streets in the process -of what is termed “watering” amounts, according to the returns of the -Board of Health, to 275,000,000 gallons per annum! But as this seldom -or never assumes the form of street surface-water, it need form no part -of the present estimate. - -What proportion of the thousand million gallons of “slop dirt” produced -annually in the London streets is carried off down the drains, and -what proportion is ladled up by the scavengers, I have no means of -ascertaining, but that vast quantities run away into the sewers and -there form large deposits of mud, everything tends to prove. - -Mr. Lovick, on being asked, “How many loads of deposit have been -removed in any one week in the Surrey and Kent district? What is the -total quantity of deposit removed in any one week in the whole of the -metropolitan district?” replied: - -“It is difficult, if not impossible, to ascertain correctly the -quantity removed, owing to the variety of forms of sewers and the -ever-varying forms assumed by the deposit from the action of varying -volumes of water; but I have had observations made on the rate of -accumulation, from which I have been enabled roughly to approximate -it. In one week, in the Surrey and Kent district, about 1000 yards -were removed. In one week, in the whole of the metropolitan districts, -including the Surrey and Kent district, between 4000 and 5000 yards -were removed; but in portions of the districts these operations were -not in progress.” - -It is not here stated of what the deposit consisted, but there is no -doubt that “mac” from the streets formed a great portion of it. Neither -is it stated what period of time had sufficed for the accumulation; but -it is evident enough that such deposits in the course of a year must -be very great. - -The street surface-water has been analyzed by Professor Way, and found -to yield different constituents according to the different pavements -from which it has been discharged. The results are as follows:-- - - “_Examination of Samples of Water from Street Drainage, taken from the - Gullies in the Sewers during the rain of 6th May, 1850._ - - “The waters were all more or less turbid, and some of them gave off - very noxious odours, due principally to the escape of sulphuretted - hydrogen gas. - - “Some of them were alkaline to test-paper, but the majority were - neutral. - - “The following table exhibits the quantity of matter (both in solution - and in solid state) contained in an imperial gallon of each specimen. - - - “STREET WATERS. - - -------+--------------------+----------+---------+-------------------------------- - Number | | Quality | Quality | Residue in an Imperial Gallon. - of | NAME OF STREET. | of | of +---------+----------+----------- - Bottle.| | Paving. |Traffic. |Soluble. |Insoluble.| Both. - -------+--------------------+----------+---------+---------+----------+----------- - | | | | Grains. | Grains. | Grains. - 1 |Duke-street, | | | | | - | Manchester-square | Macadam |Middling | 92·80 | 105·95 | 198·75 - 7 |Foley-street | | | | | - | (upper part) | „ | Little | 95·13 | 116·30 | 211·43 - 5 |Gower-street | Granite |Middling | 126·00 | 168·30 | 294·30 - 12 |Norton-street | „ | Little | 123·87 | 3·00 | 126·87 - 3 |Hampstead-road | | | | | - | (above the canal) |Ballasted | Great | 96·00 | 84·00 | 180·00 - 4 |Ferdinand-street | „ |Middling | 44·00 | 48·30 | 92·30 - 2 |Ferdinand-place | „ | Little | 50·80 | 34·30 | 85·10 - 10 |Oxford-street | Granite | Great | 276·23 | 537·10 | 813·33 - 6 | „ | Macadam | „ | 194·62 | 390·30 | 584·92 - 11 | „ | Wood | „ | 34·00 | 5·00 | 39·00 - -------+--------------------+----------+---------+---------+----------+----------- - - “The influence of the quality of the paving on the composition of the - drainage water,” says Professor Way, “is well seen in the specimens - Nos. 10, 6, and 11, all of them from Oxford-street, the traffic being - described as ‘Great.’ - - “The quantity of soluble salts is here found to be greatest from the - granite matter from the macadamized road, and very inconsiderable from - the wood pavement. - - “The same relation between the granite and macadam pavement seems - to hold good in the other instances; the granite for any quality of - traffic affording more soluble salts to the water than the macadam. - - “The ballasted pavement holds a position intermediate between the - macadam and the wood, giving more soluble salts than the wood, but - less than the macadam. - - “The quantity of solid (insoluble) matter in the different samples of - water, _which is a measure of the mechanical waste of the different - kinds of pavement_, appears also to follow the same relation as that - of the soluble salts; that is to say, granite greatest, next macadam, - then ballasted, and, lastly, wood pavement, which affords a quantity - of solid deposit almost too small to deserve notice. - - “The influence of the quality of traffic on the composition of the - different specimens of drainage is well marked in nearly all cases; - the greatest amount of matter both insoluble and soluble being found - in the water obtained from the streets of great traffic. - - “The following table shows the composition of the soluble salts of - four specimens, two of them being from the granite, and two from the - macadam pavement. - - “It appears from the table that the granite furnishes little or - no magnesia to the water, whilst the quantity from the macadam is - considerable. - - “On the other hand, the quantity of potash is far greatest in the - water derived from the granite. - - “The traffic, as was before seen, has a very great influence on the - quantity of the soluble salts. It seems also to influence their - composition, for we find no carbonates either in the water from the - granite, or that from the macadam, where the traffic is little; - whereas, when it is great, carbonates of lime and potash are found - in the water in large quantity, a circumstance which is no doubt - attributable to the action of decaying organic matter on the mineral - substances of the pavement. - - - “ANALYSIS OF THE SOLUBLE MATTER IN DIFFERENT SPECIMENS OF STREET - DRAINAGE WATER. - - -----------------------------------------+----------------------------------- - | Grains in an Imperial Gallon. - +-----------------+----------------- - | Great Traffic. | Little Traffic. - +--------+--------+--------+-------- - |Granite.|Macadam.|Granite.|Macadam. - | No. 10.| No. 6. | No. 12.| No. 7. - -----------------------------------------+--------+--------+--------+-------- - Water of combination and some soluble | | | | - organic matter | 77·56 | 29·07 | 22·72 | 13·73 - Silica | ·51 | 2·81 | ... | ... - Carbonic Acid | 15·84 | 12·23 | None | None - Sulphuric Acid | 36·49 | 38·23 | 46·48 | 34·08 - Lime | 6·65 | 13·38 | 25·90 | 16·10 - Magnesia | None | 23·51 | Trace | 3·50 - Oxide of Iron and Alumina, with a little | | | | - Phosphate of Lime | 2·58 | 1·25 | ... | ... - Chloride of Potassium | None | 10·99 | None | 2·79 - „ Sodium | 53·84 | 44·88 | 18·44 | 19·70 - Potash | 82·76 | 18·27 | 8·75 | 5·23 - Soda | ... | ... | 1·58 | ... - -----------------------------------------+--------+--------+--------+-------- - | 276·23 | 194·62 | 123·87 | 95·13 - -----------------------------------------+--------+--------+--------+-------- - - “The insoluble matter in the waters consists of the comminuted - material of the road itself, with small fragments of straw and broken - dung. - - “The quantity of soluble salts (especially of salts of potash) in - many of these samples of water is quite as great, and in some cases - greater, than that found in the samples of sewer-water that have been - examined; and it is open to question and further inquiry, whether the - water obtained from the street-drainage of a crowded city might not - often be of nearly equal value as liquid manure with the sewer-water - with which it is at present allowed to mix.” - -With regard to the “ballasted pavement” mentioned by Professor Way, I -may observe that it cannot be considered a _street_-pavement, unless -exceptionally. It is formed principally of Thames ballast mixed with -gravel, and is used in the construction of what are usually private or -pleasure walks, such as the “gravel walks” in the inclosures of some of -the parks, and upon Primrose-hill, &c. - - -OF THE MASTER SCAVENGERS IN FORMER TIMES. - -Degraded as the occupation of the scavenger may be in public -estimation; though “I’d rather sweep the streets” may be a common -remark expressive of the lowest deep of humiliation among those who -never handled a besom in their lives; yet the very existence of a large -body who are public cleansers betokens civilization. Their occupation, -indeed, was defined, or rather was established or confirmed, in the -early periods of our history, when municipal regulations were a sort -of charter of civic protection, of civic liberties, and of general -progress. - -The noun _Scavenger_ is said by lexicographers to be derived from the -German _schaben_, to shave or scrape, “applied to those who scrape and -clear away the filth from public streets or other places.” The more -direct derivation, however, is from the Danish verb _skaver_, the Saxon -equivalent of which is _sceafan_, whence the English _shave_. Formerly -the word was written _Scavager_, and meant simply one who was engaged -in removing the _Scrapeage_ or _Rakeage_ (the working men, it will be -seen, were termed also “rakers”) from the surface of the streets. Hence -it would appear that there is no authority for the verb to scavenge, -which has lately come into use. The term from which the personal -substantive is directly made, is _scavage_, a word formed from the verb -in the same manner as _sewage_ and _rubbage_ (now fashionably corrupted -into rubbish), and meaning the refuse which is or should be scraped -away from the roads. The Latin equivalent from the Danish verb _skave_, -is _scabere_. - -I believe that the first mention of a scavenger in our earlier -classical literature, is by Bishop Hall, one of the lights of the -Reformation, in one of his “Satires.” - - “To see the Pope’s blacke knight, a cloaked frere, - Sweating in the channel _like a scavengere_.” - -Many similar passages from the old poets and dramatists might be -adduced, but I will content myself with one from the “Martial Maid” of -Beaumont and Fletcher, as bearing immediately on the topic I have to -discuss:-- - - “Do I not know thee for the alguazier, - Whose dunghil _all the parish scavengers_ - Could never rid.” - -Johnson defines a scavenger to be “a petty magistrate, whose province -is to keep the streets clean;” and in the earlier times, certainly the -scavenger was an officer to whom a certain authority was deputed, as to -beadles and others. - -One or two of these officials were appointed, according to the -municipal or by-laws of the City of London, not to each parish, but -to each ward. Of course, in the good old days, nothing could be done -unless under “the sanction of an oath,” and the scavengers were sworn -accordingly on the Gospel, the following being the form as given in the -black letter of the laws relating to the city in the time of Henry VIII. - - - “_The Oath of Scavagers, or Scavengers, of the Ward._ - - “Ye shal swear, That ye shal wel and diligently oversee that the - pavements in every Ward be wel and rightfully repaired, and not - haunsed to the noyaunce of the neighbours; and that the Ways, Streets, - and Lanes, be kept clean from Donge and other Filth, for the Honesty - of the City. And that all the Chimneys, Redosses, and Furnaces, be - made of Stone for Defence of Fire. And if ye know any such ye shall - shew it to the Alderman, that he may make due Redress therefore. And - this ye shall not lene. So help you God.”[14] - -To aid the scavengers in their execution of the duties of the office, -the following among others were the injunctions of the civic law. They -indicate the former state of the streets of London better than any -description. A “Goung (or dung) fermour” appears to be a nightman, a -dung-carrier or bearer, the servant of the master or ward scavenger. - - “No Goungfermour shall spill any ordure in the Street, under pain of - Thirteen Shillings and Four Pence. - - “No Goungfermour shall carry any ordure till after nine of the clock - in the Night, under pain of Thirteen Shillings and Four Pence. No man - shall cast any urine boles, or ordure boles, into the Streets by Day - or Night, _afore the Hour of nine in the Night_. And also he shall not - cast it out, but bring it down and lay it in the Canel, under Pain - of Three Shillings and Four Pence. And if he do so cast it upon any - Person’s Head, the Person to have a lawful Recompense, _if he have - hurt thereby_. - - “No man shall bury any Dung, or Goung, within the Liberties of this - City, under Pain of Forty Shillings.” - -I will not dwell on the state of things which caused such enactments -to be necessary, or on the barbarism of the law which ordered a lawful -recompense to any person assailed in the manner intimated, only when he -had “hurt thereby.” - -These laws were for the government of the city, where a body of -scavengers was sometimes called a “street-ward.” Until about the reign -of Charles II., however, to legislate concerning such matters for the -city was to legislate for the metropolis, as Southwark was then more -or less under the city jurisdiction, and the houses of the nobility on -the north bank of the Thames (the Strand), would hardly require the -services of a public scavenger. - -As new parishes or districts became populous, and established outside -the city boundaries, the authorities seem to have regulated the public -scavengery after the fashion of the city; but the whole, in every -respect of cleanliness, propriety, regularity, or celerity, was most -grievously defective. - -Some time about the middle of the last century, the scavengers were -considered and pronounced by the administrators or explainers of -municipal law, to be “two officers chosen yearly in each parish in -London and the suburbs, by the constables, churchwardens, and other -inhabitants,” and their business was declared to be, that they should -“hire persons called ‘rakers,’ with carts to clean the streets, and -carry away the dirt and filth thereof, under a penalty of 40_s._” - -The scavengers thus appointed we should now term surveyors. There -is little reason to doubt that in the old times the duly-appointed -scavagers or scavengers, laboured in their vocation themselves, and -employed such a number of additional hands as they accounted necessary; -but how or when the master scavenger ceased to be a labourer, and how -or when the office became merely nominal, I can find no information. -So little attention appears to have been paid to this really important -matter, that there are hardly any records concerning it. The law was -satisfied to lay down provisions for street-cleansing, but to enforce -these provisions was left to chance, or to some idle, corrupt, or -inefficient officer or body. - -Neither can I find any precise account of what was formerly done -with the dirt swept and scraped from the streets, which seems always -to have been left to the discretion of the scavenger to deal with -as he pleased, and such is still the case in a great measure. Some -of this dirt I find, however, promoted “the goodly nutriment of the -land” about London, and some was “delivered in waste places apart -from habitations.” These waste places seem to have been the nuclei -of the present dust-yards, and were sometimes “presented,” that is, -they were reported by a jury of nuisances (or under other titles), as -“places of obscene resort,” for lewd and disorderly persons, the lewd -and disorderly persons consisting chiefly of the very poor, who came -to search among the rubbish for anything that might be valuable or -saleable; for there were frequent rumours of treasure or plate being -temporarily hidden in such places by thieves. Some outcast wretches, -moreover, slept within the shelter of these scavengers’ places, and -occasionally a vigilant officer--even down to our own times, or -within these few years--apprehended such wretches, charged them with -destitution, and had them punished accordingly. Much of the street -refuse thus “delivered,” especially the “dry rubbish,” was thrown into -the streets from houses under repair, &c., (I now speak of the past -century,) and no use seems to have been made of any part of it unless -any one requiring a load or two of rubbish chose to cart it away. - -I have given this sketch to show what master scavengers were in the -olden times, and I now proceed to point out what is the present -condition of the trade. - - -OF THE SEVERAL MODES AND CHARACTERISTICS OF STREET-CLEANSING. - -We here come to the practical part of this complex subject. We have -ascertained the length of the streets of London--we have estimated the -amount of daily, weekly, and yearly traffic--calculated the quantity of -mud, dung, “mac,” dust, and surface-water formed and collected annually -throughout the metropolis--we have endeavoured to arrive at some notion -as to the injury done by all this vast amount of filth owing to what -the Board of Health has termed “imperfect scavenging,”--and we now come -to treat of the means by which the loads of street refuse--the loads of -dust--loads of “mac” and mud, and the tons of dung, are severally and -collectively removed throughout the year. - -There are two distinct, and, in a measure, diametrically opposed, -methods of street-cleansing at present in operation. - -1. That which consists in cleaning the streets when dirtied. - -2. That which consists in cleaning them and _keeping_ them clean. - -These modes of scavenging may not appear, to those who have paid but -little attention to the matter, to be _very_ widely different means of -effecting the same object. The one, however, removes the refuse from -the streets (sooner or later) _after it has been formed_, whereas the -other removes it _as fast as it is formed_. By the latter method the -streets are never allowed to get dirty--by the former they must be -dirty before they are cleansed. - -The plan of street-cleansing _before_ dirtied, or the pre-scavenging -system, is of recent introduction, being the mode adopted by the -“street-orderlies;” that of cleansing after having dirtied, or the -post-scavenging system, is (so far as the more _general_ or common -method is concerned) the same as that pursued two centuries ago. I -shall speak of each of these modes in due course, beginning with that -last mentioned. - -By the ordinary method of scavenging, the dirt is still swept or -scraped to one side of the public way, then shovelled into a cart and -conveyed to the place of deposit. In wet weather the dirt swept or -scraped to one side is so liquified that it is known as “slop,” and -is “lifted” into the cart in shovels hollowed like sugar-spoons. The -only change of which I have heard in this mode of scavenging was in -one of the tools. Until about nine years ago birch, or occasionally -heather, brooms or besoms were used by the street-sweepers, but -they soon became clogged in dirty weather, and then, as one working -scavenger explained it to me, “they scattered and drove the dirt to -the sides ’stead of making it go right a-head as you wants it.” The -material now used for the street-sweeper’s broom is known as “bass,” -and consists of the stems or branches of a New Zealand plant, a -substance which has considerable strength and elasticity of fibre, and -both “sweeps” and “scrapes” in the process of scavenging. The broom -itself, too, is differently constructed, having divisions between the -several insertions of bass in the wooden block of the head, so that -clogging is less frequent, and cleaning easier, whereas the birch -broom consisted of a close mass of twigs, and thus scattered while it -swept the dirt. There was, of course, some outcry on the part of the -“established-order-of-things” gentry among scavengers, against the -innovation, but it is now general. As all the scavengers, no matter -how they vary in other respects, work with the brooms described, this -one mention of the change will suffice. No doubt the cleansing of -the streets is accomplished with greater efficiency and with greater -celerity than it was, but the mere process of manual toil is little -altered. - -In a work like the present, however, we have more particularly to deal -with the labourers engaged; and, viewing the subject in this light, -we may arrange the several modes of street-cleansing into the four -following divisions:-- - -1. By paid manual-labourers, or men employed by the contractors, and -paid in the ordinary ways of wages. - -2. By paid “Machine”-labourers, differing from the first only or mainly -in the means by which they attain their end. - -3. By pauper labourers, or men employed by the parishes in which they -are set to work, and either paid in money or in food, or maintained in -the workhouses. - -4. By street-orderlies, or men employed by philanthropists--a body -of workmen with particular regulations and more organized than other -scavengers. - -By one or other of these modes of scavengery all the public ways of the -metropolis are cleansed; and the subject is most peculiar, as including -within itself all the several varieties of labour, if we except that -of women and children--viz., manual labour, mechanical labour, pauper -labour, and philanthropic labour. - -By these several varieties of labour the highways and by-ways of -the entire metropolis are cleansed, with one exception--the Mews, -concerning which a few words here may not be out of place. _All_ these -localities, whether they be what are styled Private or Gentlemen’s -Mews, or Public Mews, where stables, coach-houses, and dwelling-rooms -above them, may be taken by any one (a good many of such places -being, moreover, public or partial thoroughfares); or whether they be -job-masters’ or cab-proprietors’ mews; are scavenged by the occupants, -for the manure is valuable. The mews of London, indeed, constitute -a world of their own. They are tenanted by one class--coachmen and -grooms, with their wives and families--men who are devoted to one -pursuit, the care of horses and carriages; who live and associate -one among another; whose talk is of horses (with something about -masters and mistresses) as if to ride or to drive were the great ends -of human existence, and who thus live as much together as the Jews in -their compulsory quarters in Rome. The mews are also the “chambers” of -unemployed coachmen and grooms, and I am told that the very sicknesses -known in such places have their own peculiarities. These, however, form -matter for _future_ inquiry. - -Concerning the private scavenging of the metropolitan mews, the -_Medical Times_, of July 26, 1851, contains a letter from Mr. C. -Cochrane, in which that gentleman says:-- - -“It will be found, that in all the mews throughout the metropolis, -the manure produced from each stable is packed up in a separate -stack, until there is sufficient for a load for some market-gardener -or farmer to remove. The groom or stable-man makes an arrangement, -or agreement as it is called, with the market-gardener, to remove it -at his convenience, and a gratuity of 1_s._ or 1_s._ 6_d._ per load -is usually presented to the stable-man. In some places there are -dung-pits containing the collectings of a fortnight’s dung, which, when -disturbed for removal, casts out an offensive effluvium, as sickening -as it is disgusting to the whole neighbourhood. In consequence of -the arrangement in question, if a third party wished to buy some of -this manure, he could not get it; and if he wished to get rid of any -by giving it away, the stable-man would not receive it, as it would -not be removed sufficiently quick by the farmer. The result is, that -whilst the air is rendered offensive and insalubrious, manure becomes -difficult to be removed or disposed of, and frequently is washed away -into the sewer. - -“Of this manure there are always (at a moderate computation) remaining -daily, in the mews and stable-yards of the metropolis, at least 2000 -cart-loads. - -“To remedy these evils, I would suggest that a brief Act of Parliament -should be passed, giving municipal and parochial authorities the -same complete control over the manure as they have over the ‘ashes,’ -with the provision, that owners should have the right of removing it -themselves for their own use; but if they did not do so daily, then the -control to return to the above authorities, who should have the right -of selling it, and placing the proceeds in the parish funds. By this -simple means immense quantities of valuable manure would be saved for -the purposes of agriculture--food would be rendered cheaper and more -abundant--more people would be employed--whilst the metropolis would be -rendered clean, sweet, and healthy.” - -I may dismiss this part of the subject with the remark, that I was -informed that the mews’ manure was in regular demand and of ready sale, -being removed by the market-gardeners with greater facility than can -street-dirt, which the contractors with the parishes prefer to vend by -the barge-load. - -Having enumerated the four several modes of street-cleansing, I will -now proceed to point out briefly the characteristics of each class of -cleansing. This will also denote the quality of the employers and the -nature of the employment. - -1. _The Paid Manual Labourers_ constitute the bulk of those engaged -in scavenging, and the chief pay-masters are the contractors. Many -of these labourers consider themselves the only “regular hands,” -having been “brought up to the business;” but unemployed or destitute -labourers or mechanics, or reduced tradesmen, will often endeavour to -obtain employment in street-sweeping; this is the necessary evil of all -_unskilled_ labour, for since every one can do it (without previous -apprenticeship), it follows that the beaten-out artisans or discarded -trade assistants, beggared tradesmen, or reduced gentlemen, must -necessarily resort to it as their only means of independent support; -and hence the reason why dock labour and street labour, and indeed all -the several forms of unskilled work, have a tendency to be overstocked -with hands--the _unskilled_ occupations being, as it were, the sink for -all the refuse _skilled_ labour and beggared industry of the country. - -The “contractors,” like other employers, are separated by their -men into two classes--such as, in more refined callings, are often -designated the “honourable” and “dishonourable” traders--according as -they pay or do not pay what is reputed “fair wages.” - -I cannot say that I heard any especial appellation given by the working -scavengers to the better-paying class of employers, unless it were the -expressive style of “good-’uns.” The inferior paying class, however, -are very generally known among their work-people as “scurfs.” - -2. _The Street-sweeping Machine Labourers._--Of the men employed as -“attendant” scavengers, for so they may be termed, in connection with -these mechanical and vehicular street-sweepers, little need here be -said, for they are generally of the class of ordinary scavengers. It -may, however, be necessary to explain that each of those machines must -have the street refuse, for the “lick-in” of the machine, swept into a -straight line wherever there is the slightest slope at the sides of a -street towards the foot-path; the same, too, must sometimes be done, if -the pavement be at all broken, even when the progress of the machine -is, what I heard, not very appropriately, termed “plain sailing.” -Sometimes, also, men follow the course of the street-sweeping machine, -to “sweep up” any dirt missed or scattered, as the vehicle proceeds on -a straightforward course, for at all to diverge would be to make the -labour, where the machine alone is used, almost double. - -3. _The Pauper, or Parish-employed Scavengers_ present characteristics -peculiarly their own, as regards open-air labour in London. They are -employed less to cleanse the streets, than to prevent their being -chargeable to the poor’s rate as out-door recipients, or as inmates of -the workhouses. When paid, they receive a lower amount of wages than -any other scavengers, and they are sometimes paid in food as well as -in money, while a difference may be made between the wages of the -married and of the unmarried men, and even between the married men who -have and have not children; some, again, are employed in scavenging -without any money receipt, their maintenance in the workhouse being -considered a sufficient return for the fruits of their toil. - -Some of these men are feeble, some are unskilful (even in tasks -in which skill is but little of an element), and most of them are -dissatisfied workmen. Their ranks comprise, or may comprise, men who -have filled very different situations in life. It is mentioned in the -second edition of one of the publications of the National Philanthropic -Association, “Sanatory Progress” (1850), “that the once high-salaried -cashier of a West-end bank died lately in St. Pancras-workhouse;--that -the architect of several of the most fashionable West-end club-houses -is now an inmate of St. James’s-workhouse;--and that the architect of -St. Pancras’ New Church lately died in a back garret in Somers-town.” -“These recent instances (a few out of many)” says the writer, -“prove that ‘wealth has wings,’ and that Genius and Industry have -but leaden feet, when overtaken by Adversity. A late number of the -_Globe_ newspaper states that, ‘among the police constables on the -Great Western Railway, there are at present eight members of the -Royal College of Surgeons, and three solicitors;’--and the _Limerick -Examiner_, a few weeks ago, announced the fact, that ‘a gentlewoman is -now an inmate of the workhouse of that city, whose husband, a few years -ago, filled the office of High Sheriff of the county.’” - -I do not know that either the cashier or the architect in the two -workhouses in question was employed as a street-sweeper. - -This second class, then, are situated differently to the paid -street-sweepers (or No. 1 of the present division), who may be -considered, more or less, independent or self-supporting labourers, -while the paupers are, of course, dependent. - -4. _The “Street Orderlies.”_--These men present another distinct body. -They are not merely in the employment, but many of them are under the -care, of the National Philanthropic Association, which was founded by, -and is now under the presidency of, Mr. Cochrane. The objects of this -society, as far as regards the street orderlies’ existence as a class -of scavengers, are sufficiently indicated in its title, which declares -it to be “For the Promotion of Street Cleanliness and the Employment -of the Poor; so that able-bodied men may be prevented from burthening -the parish rates, and preserved independent of workhouse alms and -degradation. Supported by the contributions of the benevolent.” - -The street orderlies, men and boys, are paid a fixed weekly wage, a -certain sum being stopped from those single men who reside in houses -rented for them by the association, where their meals, washing, &c., -are provided. Among them are men of many callings, and some educated -and accomplished persons. - -The system of street orderlyism is, moreover, distinguished by one -attribute unknown to any other mode; it is an effort, persevered in, -despite of many hindrances and difficulties, to amend our street -scavengery, indeed to reform it altogether; so that dust and dirt may -be checked in their very origination. - -The corporation, if I may so describe it, of the street orderlies, -presents characteristics, again, varying from the other orders of what -can only be looked upon either as the self-supporting or pauper workers. - -These, then, are the several modes or methods of street-scavengery, and -they show the following:-- - - -_CLASSES OF STREET-SWEEPING EMPLOYERS._ - -(1.) _Traders_, who undertake contracts for scavengery as a -speculation. Under this denomination may be classed the contractors -with parishes, districts, boards, liberties, divisions and subdivisions -of parishes, markets, &c. - -(2.) _Parishes_, who employ the men as a matter of parochial policy, -with a view to the reduction of the rates, and with little regard to -the men. - -(3.) _Philanthropists_, who seek, more particularly, to benefit the -men whom they employ, while they strive to promote the public good by -increasing public cleanliness and order. - -Under the head of “Traders” are the contractors with the parishes, -&c., and the proprietors of the sweeping-machines, who are in the same -capacity as the “regular contractors” respecting their dealings with -labourers, but who substitute mechanical for manual operations. - -Of these several classes of masters engaged in the scavengery of the -metropolis I have much to say, and, for the clearer saying of it, I -shall treat each of the several varieties of labour separately. - - -OF THE CONTRACTORS FOR SCAVENGERY. - -The scavenging of the streets of the metropolis is performed _directly_ -or _indirectly_ by the authorities of the several parishes “without -the City,” who have the power to levy rates for the cleansing of the -various districts; within the City, however, the office is executed -under the direction of the Court of Sewers. - -When the cleansing of the streets is performed indirectly by either the -parochial or civic authorities, it is effected by contractors, that -is to say, by traders who undertake for a certain sum to remove the -street-refuse at stated intervals and under express conditions, and who -employ paid servants to execute the work for them. When it is performed -_directly_, the authorities employ labourers, generally from the -workhouse, and usually enter into an agreement with some contractor for -the use of his carts and appliances, together with the right to deposit -in his wharf or yard the refuse removed from the streets. - -I shall treat first of the _indirect_ mode of scavenging--that is -to say, of cleansing the streets by contract--beginning with the -contractors, setting forth, as near as possible, the receipts and -expenditure in connection with the trade, and then proceeding in due -order to treat of the labourers employed by them in the performance of -the task. - -Some of the contractors agree with the parochial or district -authorities to remove the dust from the house-bins as well as the -dirt from the streets under one and the same contract; some undertake -to execute these two offices under separate contracts; and some to -perform only one of them. It is most customary, however, for the same -contractor to serve the parish, especially the larger parishes, in both -capacities. - -There is no established or legally required _form_ of agreement between -a contractor and his principals; it is a bargain in which each side -strives to get the best of it, but in which the parish representatives -have often to contend against something looking like a monopoly; a very -common occurrence in our day when capitalists choose to combine, which -_is_ legal, or unnoticed, but very heinous on the part of the working -men, whose capital is only in their strength or skill. One contractor, -on being questioned by a gentleman officially connected with a large -district, as to the existence of combination, laughed at such a notion, -but said there might be “a sort of understanding one among another,” as -among people who “must look to their own interests, and see which way -the cat jumped;” concluding with the undeniable assertion that “no man -ought reasonably to be expected to ruin himself for a parish.” - -There does not appear, however, to have been any countervailing -qualities on the part of the parishes to this understanding among the -contractors; for some of the authorities have found themselves, when -a new or a renewed contract was in question, suddenly “on the other -side of the hedge.” Thus, in the south-west district of St. Pancras, -the contractor, five or six years ago, paid 100_l._ per annum for the -removal and possession of the street-dirt, &c.; but the following year -the district authorities had to pay him 500_l._ for the same labour -and with the same privileges! Other changes took place, and in 1848-9 -a contractor again paid the district 95_l._ I have shown, too, that -in Shadwell the dust-contractor now _receives_ 450_l._ per annum, -whereas he formerly _paid_ 240_l._ To prove, however, that a spirit of -combination does _occasionally_ exist among these contractors, I may -cite the following minute from one of the parish books. - - -_Extract from Minute-book, Nov. 7, 1839. Letter C, Folio 437._ - - “Commissioner’s Office, - - “30, Howland-street, - - “Nov. 7, 1839. - - “REPORT of the Paving Committee to the General Board, relating to the - watering the district for the past year. - - “Your Committee beg leave to report that for the past three years the - sums paid by contract for watering were respectively:-- - - “For 1836 £230 - „ 1837 220 - „ 1838 200 - - “That in the month of February in the present year the Board advertised - in the usual manner for tenders to water the district, when the - following were received, viz.:-- - - “Mr. Darke £315 - „ Gore 318 - „ Nicholls 312 - „ Starkey 285 - - which was the lowest. - - “Your Committee, anxious to prevent any increase in the watering-rate - from being levied, and considering the amount required by the - contractors for this service as excessive and exorbitant, and even - evincing a spirit of combination, resolved to make an inroad upon this - system, and after much trouble and attention adopted other measures for - watering the district, the results of which they have great pleasure - in presenting to the Board, by which it will be seen that a saving - over the very lowest of the above tenders of 102_l._ 3_s._ has been - effected; the sum of 18_l._ 18_s._ has been paid for pauper labour - at the same time. Your Committee regret that, notwithstanding the - efforts of themselves and their officers, the state of insubordination - and insult of most of the paupers (in spite of all encouragement to - industry) was such, that the Committee, on the 12th of July last, were - reluctantly compelled to discontinue their services. The Committee - cannot but congratulate the Board upon the result of their experiment, - which will have the effect of breaking up a spirit of combination - highly dangerous to the community at large, at the same time that their - labours have caused a very considerable saving to the ratepayers; and - they trust the work, considering all the numerous disadvantages under - which they have laboured, has been performed in a satisfactory manner. - - “P. CUNNINGHAM, - - “Surveyor, - - “30, Howland-street, Fitzroy-square.” - -The following regulations sufficiently show the nature of the -agreements made between the contractors and the authorities as to the -cleansing of the more important thoroughfares especially. It will be -seen that in the regulations I quote every street, court, or alley, -must now be swept _daily_, a practice which has only been adopted -within these few years in the City. - - - “SEWERS’ OFFICE, GUILDHALL, LONDON, RAKERS’ DUTIES,[15] MIDSUMMER, - 1851, TO MIDSUMMER, 1852. - - “_CLEANSING._ - - “_The whole surface_ of every Carriage-way, Court, and Alley shall - be swept _every day_ (Sundays excepted), and all mud, dust, filth, - and rubbish, all frozen or partially frozen matter, and snow, animal - and vegetable matter, and everything offensive or injurious, shall be - properly pecked, scraped, swept up, and carted away therefrom; and - the iron gutters laid across or along the footways, the air-grates - over the sewers, the gulley-grates in the carriage-way of the streets - respectively; and all public urinals are to be daily raked out, swept, - and made clean and clear from all obstructions; and the Contractor or - Contractors shall, in time of frost, continually keep the channels in - the Streets and Places clear for water to run off: and cleanse and cart - away refuse hogan or gravel (when called upon by the Inspector to do - so) from all streets newly paved. - - “The Mud and Dirt, &c., is to be carted away immediately that it is - swept up. - - “N.B. The Inspector of the District may, at any time he may think it - necessary, order any Street or Place to be cleansed and swept a second - time in any one day, and the Contractor or Contractors are thereupon - bound to do the same. - - “The Markets and their approaches are also to be thus cleansed DAILY, - and the approaches thereto respectively are also to be thus cleansed at - such an hour in the night of Saturday in each week as the Inspector of - the District may direct. - - “Every Street, Lane, Square, Yard, Court, Alley, Passage, and Place - (except certain main Streets hereinafter enumerated), are to be thus - cleansed within the following hours Daily: namely-- - - “In the months of April, May, June, July, August, and September. To - be begun not earlier than 4 o’Clock in the morning, and finished not - later than 1 o’Clock in the afternoon. - - “In the months of October, November, December, January, February, and - March. To be begun not earlier than 5 o’Clock in the morning, and - finished not later than 2 o’Clock in the afternoon. - - “The following main Streets are to be cleansed DAILY throughout the - year (except Sundays), to be begun not earlier than 4 o’Clock in the - morning, and finished not later than 9 o’Clock in the morning. - - Fleet Street - Ludgate Hill and Street - St. Paul’s Church Yard - Cheapside - Newgate Street - Poultry - Watling Street, Budge Row, and Cannon St. - Mansion House Street - Cornhill - Leadenhall Street - Aldgate Street and Aldgate - King William Street and London Bridge - Fenchurch Street - Holborn - Holborn Bridge - Skinner Street - Old Bailey - Lombard Street - New Bridge Street - Farringdon Street - Aldersgate Street - St. Martin-le-grand - Prince’s Street - Moorgate Street - The Street called ‘The Pavement’ - Finsbury Place, South - Gracechurch Street - Bishopsgate St., within and without - The Minories - Wood Street - Gresham Street - Coleman Street. - - “N.B. In times of frost and snow these hours of executing the work may - be extended at the discretion of the Local Commissioners.” - -The other conditions relate to the removal of the dust from the houses -(a subject I have already treated), and specify the fines, varying -from 1_l._ to 5_l._, to be paid by the contractors, for the violation -or neglect of any of the provisions of the contract. It is further -required that “Each Foreman, Sweeper, and Dustman, in the employ of -either of the Contractors,” (of whom there are four, Messrs. Sinnott, -Rooke, Reddin, and Gould), “will be required to wear a Badge on the arm -with these words thereon,-- - - “‘London Sewers, - N^o. -- - Guildhall,’ - -by which means any one having cause of complaint against any of the men -in the performance of their several duties, may, by taking down the -number of the man and applying at the Sewers’ Office, Guildhall, have -reference to his name and employer. - -“Any man working without his Badge, for each day he offends, the -Contractor is liable to the penalty of Five Shillings. - -“All the sweepings of the Streets, and all the dust and ashes from the -Houses, are to be entirely carted away from the City of London, on a -Penalty of _Ten Pounds_ for each cart-load.” - -These terms sufficiently show the general nature of the contracts -in question; the principal difference being that in some parts, the -contractor is not required to sweep the streets more than once, twice, -or thrice a week in ordinary weather. - -The number of individuals in London styling themselves Master -Scavengers is 34. Of these, 10 are at present without a contract either -for dust or scavenging, and 5 have a contract for removing the dust -only; so that, deducting these two numbers, the gross number 34 is -reduced to 19 scavenging contractors. Of the latter number 16 are in -a large way of business, having large yards, possessing several carts -and some waggons, and employing a vast number of men daily in sweeping -the streets, carting rubbish, &c. The other 3 masters, however, are -only in a small way of business, being persons of more limited means. -A _large_ master scavenger employs from 3 to 18 carts, and from 18 to -upwards of 40 men at scavengery alone, while a small master employs -only from 1 to 3 carts and from 3 to 6 men. By the table I have given, -p. 186, vol. ii., it is shown that there are 52 _contracts_ between -the several district authorities and master scavengers, and nineteen -_contractors_, without counting members of the same family, as distinct -individuals; this gives an average of nearly three distinct contracts -per individual. The contracts are usually for a twelvemonth. - -Although the table above referred to shows but 19 contractors for -public scavenging, there are, as I have said, more, or about 24, in -London, most of them in a “large way,” and next year some of those -who have no contracts at present may enter into agreements with the -parishes. The smallness of this number, when we consider the vast -extent of the metropolis, confirms the notion of the sort of monopoly -and combination to which I have alluded. In the Post-Office Directory -for 1851 there are no names under the heads of Scavengers or Dustmen, -but under the head of “Rubbish Carters,” 28 are given, 9 names being -marked as “Dust Contractors” and 10 as “Nightmen.” - -Of large contractors, however, there are, as I have said, about 24, -but they may not all obtain contracts every year, and in this number -are included different members of the same family or firm, who may -undertake specific contracts, although in the trade it is looked upon -as “one concern.” The smaller contractors were represented to me as -rather more numerous than the others, and perhaps numbered 40, but -it is not easy to define what is to be accounted a contractor. In -the table given in pp. 213, 214, I cite only 7 as being the better -known. The others may be considered as small rubbish-carters and -flying-dustmen. - -There are yet other transactions in which the contractors are engaged -with the parishes, independently of their undertaking the whole labour -of street and house cleansing. In the parishes where pauper, or “poor” -labour is resorted to--for it is not always that the men employed by -the parishes are positive “paupers,” but rather the unemployed poor of -the parish--in such parishes, I say, an agreement is entered into with -a contractor for the deposit of the collected street dirt at his yard -or wharf. For such deposit the contractor must of course be paid, as it -is really an occupation and renting of a portion of his premises for -a specific purpose. The street dirt, however, is usually left to the -disposal of the contractor, for his own profit, and where he once paid -50_l._ for the possession of the street-collected dirt of a parish, -collected by labour which was no cost to him, he may now _receive_ half -of such 50_l._, or whatever the terms of the agreement may be. I heard -of one contractor who lately received 25_l._ where he once paid 50_l._ - -In another way, too, contractors are employed by parishes. Where pauper -or poor labour in street cleansing is the practice, a contractor’s -horses, carts, and cart-drivers are hired for the conveyance of the -dirt from the streets. This of course is for a specific payment, and is -in reality the work of the tradesmen who in the Post Office Directory -are described as “Rubbish Carters,” and of whom I shall have to speak -afterwards. Some parishes or paving boards have, however, their own -horses and vehicles, but in the other respects they have dealings with -the contractors. - -To come to as correct a conclusion as possible in this complicated -and involved matter, I have obtained the aid of some gentlemen long -familiar with such procedures. One of them said that to procure the -accounts of such transactions for a series of years, with all their -chops and changes, or to obtain a perfectly precise return, for any -three years, affecting the whole metropolis, would be the work of a -parliamentary commission with full powers “to send for papers,” &c., -&c., and that even _then_ the result might not be satisfactory as a -clear exposition. However, with the aid of the gentlemen alluded to, I -venture upon the following approximation. - -As my present inquiry relates only to the Scavenging Contractors in -the metropolis, I will take the number of districts, markets, &c., -which are specified in the table, p. 186, vol. ii. These are 83 in -number, of which 29 are shown to be scavenged by the “parish.” I will -not involve in this computation any of the more rural places which may -happen to be in the outskirts of the metropolitan area, but I will take -the contracts as 54, where the contractors do the entire work, and as -29 where they are but the rubbish-carters and dirt receivers of the -parishes. - -I am assured that it is a fair calculation that the scavengery of the -streets, apart from the removal of the dust from the houses, costs -in payments to the contractors, 150_l._ as an average, to each of -the several 54 districts; and that in the 29 localities in which the -streets are cleansed by parish labour, the sum paid is at the rate of -50_l._ per locality, some of them, as the five districts of Marylebone -for instance, being very large. This is calculated regardless of the -cases where parishes may have their own horses and vehicles, for the -cost to the rate-payers may not be very materially different, between -paying for the hire of carts and horses, and investing capital in their -purchase and incurring the expense of wear and tear. The account then -stands thus:-- - - Parish payment on 54 contracts, 150_l._ each £8100 - Parish payment on 29 contracts, 50_l._ each 1450 - ----- - Yearly total sum paid for Scavenging of - the Metropolis £9550 - ----- - -or, apportioned among 19 _contractors_, upwards of 500_l._ each; and -among 83 _contracts_, about 115_l._ per _contract_. Even if other -contractors are employed where parish labour is pursued, the cost -to the rate-payers is the same. This calculation is made, as far as -possible, as regards scavengery alone; and is independent of the value -of the refuse collected. It is about the scavengery that the grand -fight takes place between the parishes and contractors; the house dust, -being uninjured by rain or street surface-water, is more available for -trade purposes. - -From this it would appear that the cost of cleansing the streets of -London may be estimated in round numbers at 10,000_l._ per annum. - -The next point in the inquiry is, What is the value of the street dirt -annually collected? - -The price I have adduced for the dirt gained from the streets is 3_s._ -per load, which is a very reasonable average. If the load be dung, -or even chiefly dung, it is worth 5_s._ or 6_s._ With the proportion -of dung and street refuse to be found in such a thoroughfare as the -Haymarket, in dry, or comparatively dry weather, a load, weighing about -a ton, is worth about 3_s._ in the purchaser’s own cart. On the other -hand, as I have shown that quantities of mixed or slop “mac” have to be -wasted, that some is sold at a nominal price, and a good deal at 1_s._ -the load, 3_s._ is certainly a fair average. - - -A TABLE SHOWING THE NUMBER OF MEN AND CARTS EMPLOYED IN COLLECTING -DUST, IN SCAVENGERY, AND AT RUBBISH CARTING, AS WELL AS THE NUMBER -OF MEN, WOMEN, AND BOYS WORKING IN THE DUST-YARDS OF THE SEVERAL -METROPOLITAN CONTRACTORS. - - ------------------------------+------------------+-------------------+------------------+---------------------------- - Contractors (Large). | Dust. | Scavengery. | Rubbish Carting. | Working in the Yard. - +---------+--------+---------+----------------------------+---------+---------+-------- - | | | | Number | | | | | - | | | |of Carts,| | | | | - | Number | Number | Number | Waggons,| Number | Number | Number | Number | Number - | of Men |of Carts| of Men | or | of Men |of Carts| of Men |of Women |of Boys - |employed.| used. |employed.| Machines|employed.| used. |employed.|employed.|working. - | | | | used. | | | | | - ------------------------------+---------+--------+---------+---------+---------+--------+---------+---------+-------- - Mr. Dodd | 20 | 10 | 26 | 13 | 20 | 20 | 9 | 12 | 4 - „ Gould | 20 | 10 | 28 | 11 | 11 | 11 | 5 | 15 | 4 - „ Redding | 32 | 16 | 41 | 18 | 22 | 22 | 5 | 12 | 4 - „ Gore | 32 | 16 | 18 | 7 | none. | none. | 4 | 20 | 6 - „ Rooke | 16 | 8 | 16 | 6 | 16 | 16 | 2 | 6 | 3 - „ Stapleton & Holdsworth | 10 | 5 | 11 | 8 | 10 | 10 | 4 | 8 | 2 - „ Tame | 20 | 10 | 5 | 1 | 12 | 12 | 4 | 8 | 2 - „ Starkey | 10 | 5 | 22 | 8 | none. | none. | 4 | 12 | 3 - „ Newman | 8 | 4 | 23 | 10 | 8 | 8 | 4 | 8 | 2 - „ Pratt and Sewell | 10 | 5 | 4 | 2 | 20 | 20 | 2 | 6 | 2 - „ W. Sinnott, Sen. | 28 | 14 | 5 | 2 | none. | none. | 5 | 15 | 5 - „ J. Sinnott | 8 | 4 | 16 | 6 | ditto. | ditto. | none. | none. | none. - „ Westley | 10 | 5 | 18 | 9 | ditto. | ditto. | 3 | 9 | 2 - „ Parsons | 10 | 5 | 18 | 3 | ditto. | ditto. | 2 | 6 | 1 - „ Hearne | 18 | 9 | 7 | 2 | 20 | 20 | 3 | 9 | 3 - „ Humphries | 20 | 10 | 4 | 1 | 6 | 6 | 3 | 9 | 3 - „ Calvert | 6 | 3 | none. | none. | 7 | 7 | 2 | 6 | 2 - +---------+--------+-------------------+---------+--------+---------+---------+-------- - | 278 | 139 | 262 | 107 | 152 | 152 | 61 | 161 | 48 - | | | | | | | | | - Contractors (Small). | | | | | | | | | - | | | | | | | | | - Mr. North | 4 | 2 | 2 | 1 | 4 | 4 | 1 | 2 | 1 - „ Milton | 6 | 3 | none. | none. | none. | none. | 3 | 6 | 2 - „ Jenkins | 2 | 1 | 5 | 1 | ditto. | ditto. | 1 | 2 | 1 - „ Stroud | 10 | 5 | none. | none. | ditto. | ditto. | 4 | 9 | 3 - „ Martin | 2 | 1 | 6 | 3 | ditto. | ditto. | 1 | 2 | 1 - „ Clutterbuck | 4 | 2 | none. | none. | 5 | 5 | 1 | 3 | 1 - „ W. Sinnott, Jun. | 4 | 2 | ditto. | ditto. | 6 | 6 | 1 | 2 | 1 - +---------+--------+-------------------+---------+--------+---------+---------+-------- - | 32 | 16 | 13 | 5 | 15 | 15 | 12 | 26 | 10 - | | | | | | | | | - Contractors, but not having | | | | | | | | | - any contract at present, | | | | | | | | | - only carting rubbish, &c. | | | | | | | | | - | | | | | | | | | - Mr. Darke | ... | ... | ... | ... | 36 | 36 | | | - „ Tomkins | ... | ... | ... | ... | 6 | 6 | | | - „ J. Cooper | ... | ... | ... | ... | 8 | 8 | | | - „ T. Cooper, Sen. | ... | ... | ... | ... | 12 | 12 | | | - „ Athill | ... | ... | ... | ... | 6 | 6 | | | - „ Barnett (lately sold off) | | | | | | | | | - „ Brown | ... | ... | ... | ... | 4 | 4 | | | - „ Ellis | ... | ... | ... | ... | 6 | 6 | | | - „ Limpus | ... | ... | ... | ... | 10 | 10 | | | - „ Emmerson | ... | ... | ... | ... | 6 | 6 | | | - | | | | +---------+--------+ | | - | | | | | 94 | 94 | | | - - --------------------------------+-------------+-------------------+-------------+----------------------- - | Dust. | Scavengers. | Rubbish. | Employed in Yard. - Machines. +------+------+-----+-------------+------+------+------+------+--------- - | Men. |Carts.| Men.| Carts. | Men. |Carts.| Men. |Women.|Children. - --------------------------------+------+------+-----+-------------+------+------+------+------+--------- - Woods and Forests | none.| none.| 4 | 2 machines.| none.| none.| none.| none.| none. - Regent-street and Pall-mall |ditto.|ditto.| 12 | 2 „ |ditto.|ditto.|ditto.|ditto.| ditto. - St. Martin’s |ditto.|ditto.| 9 | 4 „ |ditto.|ditto.|ditto.|ditto.| ditto. - +------+------+-----+---- | | | | | - | | | 25 | 8 „ | | | | | - Parishes. | | | | | | | | | - | | | | | | | | | - Kensington[16] | ... | ... | 5 | 2 | | | | | - Chelsea[16] | ... | ... | 5 | 2 | | | | | - St. George’s, Hanover-sq.[16] | ... | ... | 5 | 1 | | | | | - St. Margaret’s, Westminster[16] | ... | ... | 7 | 3 | | | | | - Piccadilly[16] | ... | ... | 28 | 2 | | | | | - St. Ann’s, Soho[16] | ... | ... | 4 | 2 | | | | | - Paddington[16] | ... | ... | 6 | 2 | | | | | - St. Marylebone[16] (5 Districts)| ... | ... | 35 | 4 | | | | | - St. James’s, Westminster | ... | ... | 2 | 1 | | | | | - {|No parochial |} | | | | | | - Hampstead {| removal of |} 4 | 1 | | | | | - {| dust. |} | | | | | | - Highgate | ditto. | 4 | 1 | | | | | - Islington[16] | ... | ... | 8 | 1 | | | | | - Hackney | 8 | 4 | 7 | 1 | ... | ... | 2 | 6 | 2 - St. Clement Danes[16] | ... | ... | 7 | 3 waggons. | | | | | - Commercial-road, East[16] | ... | ... | 6 | 3 carts. | | | | | - Poplar | 4 | 2 | 4 | 1 | ... | ... | 2 | 4 | 1 - Bermondsey | 6 | 3 | 6 | 3 | ... | ... | 3 | 6 | 2 - Newington | 8 | 4 | 6 | 2 | ... | ... | 2 | 6 | 2 - Lambeth[16] | ... | ... | 16 | 3 | | | | | - Ditto (Christchurch) | 4 | 2 | 20 | 3 | ... | ... | 1 | 4 | 1 - Wandsworth | 4 | 2 | 4 | 1 | ... | ... | 1 | 4 | 1 - Camberwell and Walworth | 8 | 4 | 6 | 2 | ... | ... | 2 | 5 | 3 - Rotherhithe | 6 | 3 | 5 | 2 | ... | ... | 1 | 5 | 2 - Greenwich | 4 | 2 | 5 | 2 | ... | ... | 1 | 3 | 1 - Deptford | 4 | 2 | 4 | 2 | ... | ... | 1 | 3 | 1 - Woolwich | none.| none.| 5 | 2 | | | | | - Lewisham |ditto.|ditto.| 4 | 1 | | | | | - +------+------+-----+---- | | | | | - Total for Parishes | 56 | 28 ||218 | 50 carts. | | | 16 | 46 | 16 - | | | | 3 waggons. | | | | | - | | | | | | | | | - Total for large contractors | 278 | 139 | 262 |107 | 152 | 152 | 61 | 161 | 48 - Total for small contractors | 32 | 16 | 13 | 5 | 15 | 15 | 12 | 26 | 10 - Total for machines | ... | ... | 25 | 8 machines.| | | | | - Total for street orderlies | ... | ... | 60 | 9 | | | | | - +------+------+-----+---- |------|------|------|------|-------- - Gross total | 366 | 183 | 578 |179 carts. | 167 | 167 | 89 | 233 | 74 - | | | | 3 waggons. | | | | | - --------------------------------+------+------+-----+-------------+------+------+------+------+-------- - - Men. Carts. - Total employed at dust 366 183 - „ „ scavenging 578 179 - „ „ rubbish carting 167 167 - „ (men, women, and children), in yard 396 - ---- --- - Total employed in the removal of house and street refuse 1507 529 - -Thus the annual sum of the street-dirt, as regards the quantity -collected by the contracting scavengers (as shown in the table given at -page 186), is, in round numbers, 89,000 cart-loads; that collected by -parish labour, with or without the aid of the street-sweeping machines, -at 52,000 cart-loads, or a total (I do not include what is collected by -the orderlies) of 141,000 loads. - -This result shows, then, that the contractors yearly collect by -scavenging the streets with their own paid labourers, and receive as -the produce of pauper labour, as follows:-- - - ---------------+--------------+-------+--------- - | Loads of | Per | - | Street Dirt. | Load. | Total. - ---------------+--------------+-------+--------- - By Contractors | 89,000 | 3_s._ | £13,350 - By Parishes | 52,000 | 3_s._ | 7,800 - ---------------+--------------+-------+--------- - Total | 141,000 | | £21,150 - ---------------+--------------+-------+--------- - -or a value of rather more than 1113_l._ as the return to each -individual contractor in the table, or about 255_l._ as the average on -each contract. As, however, the whole of the parish-collected manure -does not come into the hands of the contractors, it will be fair, I am -assured, to compute the total at 19,000_l._, a sum of 1000_l._ to each -contractor, or nearly 229_l._ on each contract. - -It would appear, then, that the total receipts of the contractors for -the scavenging of London amount to very nearly 30,000_l._; that is to -say, 10,000_l._ as remuneration for the office, and 20,000_l._ as the -value of the dirt collected. But against this sum as received, we have -to set the gross expense of wages paid to men, wear and tear of carts -and appliances, rent of wharfs, interest for money, &c. - -Concerning the amount paid in wages, it appears by the table at pp. -186, 187, that the men employed by the scavenging contractors in wet -weather, are 260 daily (being nearly half of the whole force of 531 -men, the orderlies excepted). In dry weather, however, there are only -194 men employed. I will therefore calculate upon 194 men employed -daily, and 66 employed half the year, making the total of 260. By the -table here given, it will be seen that the total number of scavengers -employed by the large and small contractors, is 275. - - --------------------+--------------+------------- - Number of Men. | Weekly Wage. | Yearly. - --------------------+--------------+------------- - 194 (for 12 months) | 16_s._[17] |£8070 8_s._ - 66 (for 6 months) | 16_s._ | 1372 16_s._ - --------------------+--------------+------------- - Total | | £9443 4_s._ - --------------------+--------------+------------- - -There remains now to show the amount of capital which a large -contractor must embark in his business: I include the amount of rent, -and the expenditure on what must be provided for business purposes, and -which is subject to wear and tear, to decay, and loss. - -There are not now, I am told, more than twelve scavengers’ wharfs -and 20 yards (the wharf being also a yard) in the possession of the -contractors in regular work. These are the larger contractors, and -their capital, I am assured, may be thus estimated:-- - - -CAPITAL OF THE MASTER SCAVENGERS. - - £ _s._ _d._ - - 179 Carts, 21_l._ each 3,759 0 0 - 3 Waggons, 32_l._ each 96 0 0 - 230 Horses, 25_l._ each 5,750 0 0 - 230 Sets of harness, 2_l._ each 460 0 0 - 600 Brooms, 9_d._ each 22 10 0 - 300 Shovels, 1_s._ each 15 0 0 - 100 Barges, 50_l._ each 5,000 0 0 - ----------------- - Total 15,102 10 0 - ----------------- - -I have estimated according to what may be the _present_ value, not the -original cost, of the implements, vehicles, &c. A broom, when new, -costs 1_s._ 2_d._, and is worn out in two or three weeks. A shovel, -when new, costs 2_s._ - -The following appears to be the - - -YEARLY EXPENDITURE OF THE MASTER SCAVENGERS. - - £ _s._ _d._ - Wages to working scavengers (as - before shown) 9,443 0 0 - Wages to 48 bargemen, engaged in - unloading the vessels with street-dirt, - 4 men to each of 12 wharfs, at 16_s._ - weekly wage 1,996 0 0 - Keep of 300 horses (26_l._ each) 7,800 0 0 - Wear and tear (say 15 per cent. - on capital) 2,250 0 0 - Rent of 20 wharfs and yards - (average 100_l._ each) 2,000 0 0 - Interest on 15,000_l._ capital, at 10 - per cent. 1,500 0 0 - ------------------ - £24,989 0 0 - ------------------ - -I have endeavoured in this estimate to confine myself, as much as -possible, to the separate subject of scavengery, but it must be -borne in mind that as the large contractors are dustmen as well as -scavengers, the great charges for rent and barges cannot be considered -as incurred solely on account of the street-dirt trade. Including, -then, the payments from parishes, the account will stand thus:-- - - -YEARLY RECEIPTS OF MASTER SCAVENGERS. - - From Parishes £9,450 - From Manure, &c. 19,000 - ------- - Total Income £28,450 - Deduct yearly Expenditure 25,000 - ------- - Profit £3,450 - ------- - -This gives a profit of nearly 182_l._ to each contractor, if -equally apportioned, or a little more than 41_l._ on each contract -for street-scavenging alone, and a profit no doubt affected by -circumstances which cannot very well be reduced to figures. The profit -may appear small, but it should be remembered that it is _independent_ -of the profits on the dust. - - -OF THE CONTRACTORS’ (OR EMPLOYERS’) PREMISES, &C. - -At page 171 of the present volume I have described one of the yards -devoted to the trade in house-dust, and I have little to say in -addition regarding the premises of the contracting or employing -scavengers. They are the same places, and the industrious pursuits -carried on there, and the division and subdivision of labour, relate -far more to the dustmen’s department than to the scavengers’. When the -produce of the sweeping of the streets has been thrown into the cart, -it is so far ready for use that it has not to be sifted or prepared, as -has the house-dust, for the formation of brieze, &c., the “mac” being -sifted by the purchaser. - -These yards or wharfs are far less numerous and better conducted now -than they were ten years ago. They are at present fast disappearing -from the banks of the Thames (there is, however, one still at -Whitefriars and one at Milbank). They are chiefly to be found on the -banks of the canals. Some of the principal wharfs near Maiden-lane, St. -Pancras, are to be found among unpaven, or ill-paved, or imperfectly -macadamized roads, along which run rows of what were once evidently -pleasant suburban cottages, with their green porches and their trained -woodbine, clematis, jasmine, or monthly roses; these tenements, -however, are now occupied chiefly by the labourers at the adjacent -stone, coal, lime, timber, dust, and general wharfs. Some of the -cottages still presented, on my visits, a blooming display of dahlias -and other autumnal flowers; and in one corner of a very large and very -black-looking dust-yard, in which rose a huge mound of dirt, was the -cottage residence of the man who remained in charge of the wharf all -night, and whose comfortable-looking abode was embedded in flowers, -blooming luxuriantly. The gay-tinted holly-hocks and dahlias are in -striking contrast with the dinginess of the dust-yards, while the canal -flows along, dark, sluggish, and muddy, as if to be in keeping with the -wharf it washes. - -The dust-yards must not be confounded with the “night-yards,” or the -places where the contents of the cess-pools are deposited, places -which, since the passing of the Sanatory Act, are rapidly disappearing. - -Upon entering a dust-yard there is generally found a heavy oppressive -sort of atmosphere, more especially in wet or damp weather. This is -owing to the tendency of charcoal to absorb gases, and to part with -them on being saturated with moisture. The cinder-heaps of the several -dust-yards, with their million pores, are so many huge gasometers -retaining all the offensive gases arising from the putrefying organic -matters which usually accompany them, and parting with such gases -immediately on a fall of rain. It would be a curious calculation -to estimate the quantity of deleterious gas thus poured into the -atmosphere after a slight shower. - -The question has been raised as to the propriety of devoting some -special locality to the purposes of dust-yards, and it is certainly a -question deserving public attention. - -The chief disposal of the street manure is from barges, sent by the -Thames or along the canals, and sold to farmers and gardeners. In the -larger wharfs, and in those considered removed from the imputation of -“scurfdom,” six men, and often but four, are employed to load a barge -which contains from 30 to 40 tons. In such cases the dust-yard and the -wharf are one and the same place. The contents of these barges are -mixed, about one-fourth being “mac,” the rest street-mud and dung. -This admixture, on board the vessel, is called by the bargemen and the -contractors’ servants at the wharfs Leicester (properly Læsta, a load). -We have the same term at the end of our word bal-_last_. - -I am assured by a wharfinger, who has every means of forming a correct -judgment, it may be estimated that there are dispatched from the -contractors’ wharfs twelve barges daily, freighted with street-manure. -This is independent of the house-dust barged to the country -brick-fields. The weight of the cargo of a barge of manure is about -40 tons; 36 tons being a low average. This gives 3744 barge-loads, or -132,784 tons, or loads, yearly; for it must be recollected that the -dirt gathered by pauper labour is dispatched from the contractors’ -yards or wharfs, as well as that collected by the immediate servants -of the contractors. The price per barge-load at the canal, basin, or -wharf, in the country parts where agriculture flourishes, is from 5_l._ -to 6_l._, making a total of 20,594_l._ The difference of that sum, and -the total given in the table (21,147_l._) may be accounted for on the -supposition that the remainder is sold in the yards and carted away -thence. The slop and valueless dirt is not included in this calculation. - - -OF THE WORKING SCAVENGERS UNDER THE CONTRACTORS. - -I have now to deal with what throughout the whole course of my inquiry -into the state of London Labour and the London Poor I have considered -the great object of investigation--the condition and characteristics of -the working men; and what is more immediately the “labour question,” -the relation of the labourer to his employer, as to rates of payment, -modes of payment, hiring of labourers, constancy or inconstancy of -work, supply of hands, the many points concerning wages, perquisites, -family work, and parochial or club relief. - -First, I shall give an account of the class employment, together with -the labour season and earnings of the labourers, or “economical” part -of the subject. I shall then pass to the social points, concerning -their homes, general expenditure, &c., and then to the more moral and -intellectual questions of education, literature, politics, religion, -marriage, and concubinage of the men and of their families. All this -will refer, it should be remembered, only to the working scavagers in -the honourable or better-paid trade; the cheaper labourers I shall -treat separately as a distinct class; the details in both cases I shall -illustrate with the statement of men of the class described. - -The first part of this multifarious subject appertains to the division -of labour. This in the scavaging trade consists rather of that kind of -“gang-work” which Mr. Wakefield styles “simple co-operation,” or the -working together of a number of people at the same thing, as opposed -to “complex co-operation,” or the working together of a number at -_different branches_ of the same thing. Simple co-operation is of -course the ruder kind; but even this, rude as it appears, is far from -being barbaric. “The savages of New Holland,” we are told, “never help -each other even in the most simple operations; and their condition is -hardly superior--in some respects it is inferior--to that of the wild -animals which they now and then catch.” - -As an instance of the advantages of “simple co-operation,” Mr. -Wakefield tells us that “in a vast number of simple operations -performed by human exertion, it is quite obvious that two men working -together will do more than four, or four times four men, each of whom -should work alone. In the lifting of heavy weights, for example, in the -felling of trees, in the gathering of much hay and corn during a short -period of fine weather, in draining a large extent of land during the -short season when such a work may be properly conducted, in the pulling -of ropes on board ship, in the rowing of large boats, in some mining -operations, in the erection of a scaffolding for a building, and in the -breaking of stones for the repair of a road, so that the whole road -shall always be kept in good repair--in all these simple operations, -and thousands more, it is absolutely necessary that many persons should -work together at the same time, in the same place, and in the same way.” - -To the above instances of simple co-operation, or gang-working, as it -may be briefly styled in Saxon English, Mr. Wakefield might have added -dock labour and scavaging. - -The principle of complex co-operation, however, is not entirely unknown -in the public cleansing trade. This business consists of as many -branches as there are distinct kinds of refuse, and these appear to be -four. There are (1) the wet and (2) the dry _house_-refuse (or dust and -night-soil), and (3) the wet and (4) the dry _street_-refuse (or mud -and rubbish); and in these four different branches of the one general -trade the principle of complex co-operation is found commonly, though -not invariably, to prevail. - -The difference as to the class employments of the general body -of public cleansers--the dustmen, street-sweepers, nightmen, and -rubbish-carters--seems to be this:--any nightman will work as a dustman -or scavager; but it is not all the dustmen and scavagers who will work -as nightmen. The reason is almost obvious. The avocations of the -dustman and the nightman are in some degree hereditary. A rude man -provides for the future maintenance of his sons in the way which is -most patent to his notice; he makes the boy share in his own labour, -and grow up unfit for anything else. - -The regular working scavagers are then generally a distinct class from -the working dustmen, and are all paid by the week, while the dustmen -are paid by the load. In very wet weather, when there is a great -quantity of “slop” in the streets, a dustman is often called upon to -lend a helping hand, and sometimes when a working scavager is out of -employ, in order to keep himself from want, he goes to a “job of dust -work,” but seldom from any other cause. - -In a parish where there is a crowded population, the dustman’s labours -consume, on an average, from six to eight hours a day. In scavagery, -the average hours of daily work are twelve (Sundays of course -excepted), but they sometimes extended to fifteen, and even sixteen -hours, in places of great business traffic; while in very fine dry -weather, the twelve hours may be abridged by two, three, four, or even -more. Thus it is manifest that the consumption of time alone prevents -the same working men being simultaneously dustmen and scavagers. In the -more remote and quiet parishes, however, and under the management of -the smaller contractors, the opposite arrangement frequently exists; -the operative is a scavager one day, and a dustman the next. This is -not the case in the busier districts, and with the large contractors, -unless exceptionally, or on an emergency. - -If the scavagers or dustmen have completed their street and house -labours in a shorter time than usual, there is generally some sort -of employment for them in the yards or wharfs of the contractors, -or they may sometimes avail themselves of their leisure to enjoy -themselves in their own way. In many parts, indeed, as I have shown, -the street-sweeping must be finished by noon, or earlier. - -Concerning the _division of labour_, it may be said, that the principle -of complex co-operation in the scavaging trade exists only in its -rudest form, for the characteristics distinguishing the labour of the -working scavagers are far from being of that complicated nature common -to many other callings. - -As regards the act of sweeping or scraping the streets, the labour is -performed by the _gangsman_ and his _gang_. The gangsman usually loads -the cart, and occasionally, when a number are employed in a district, -acts as a foreman by superintending them, and giving directions; he is -a working scavager, but has the office of overlooker confided to him, -and receives a higher amount of wage than the others. - -For the completion of the street-work there are the _one-horse carmen_ -and the _two-horse carmen_, who are also working scavagers, and so -called from their having to load the carts drawn by one or two horses. -These are the men who shovel into the cart the dirt swept or scraped -to one side of the public way by the gang (some of it mere slop), -and then drive the cart to its destination, which is generally their -master’s yard. Thus far only does the street-labour extend. The carmen -have the care of the vehicles in cleaning them, greasing the wheels, -and such like, but the horses are usually groomed by stablemen, who are -not employed in the streets. - -The division of labour, then, among the working scavagers, may be said -to be as follows:-- - -1st. The _ganger_, whose office it is to superintend the gang, and -shovel the dirt into the cart. - -2nd. The gang, which consists of from three to ten or twelve men, who -sweep in a row and collect the dirt in heaps ready for the ganger to -shovel into the cart. - -3rd. The carman (one-horse or two-horse, as the case may be), who -attends to the horse and cart, brushes the dirt into the ganger’s -shovel, and assists the ganger in wet sloppy weather in carting the -dirt, and then takes the mud to the place where it is deposited. - -There is only one _mode of payment_ for the above labours pursued among -the master scavagers, and that is by the week. - -1st. The ganger receives a weekly salary of 18_s._ when working for an -“honourable” master; with a “scurf,” however, the ganger’s pay is but -16_s._ a week. - -2nd. The gang receive in a large establishment each 16_s._ per week, -but in a small one they usually get from 14_s._ to 15_s._ a week. When -working for a small master they have often, by working over hours, to -“make eight days to the week instead of six.” - -3rd. The one-horse carman receives 16_s._ a week in a large, and 15_s._ -in a small establishment. - -4th. The two-horse carman receives 18_s._ weekly, but is employed only -by the larger masters. - -On the opposite page I give a table on this point. - -Some of these men are paid by the day, some by the week, and some on -Wednesdays and Saturdays, perhaps in about equal proportions, the -“casuals” being mostly paid by the day, and the regular hands (with -some exceptions among the scurfs) once or twice a week. The chance -hands are sometimes engaged for a half day, and, as I was told, “jump -at a bob and a joey (1_s._ 4_d._), or at a bob.” I heard of one -contractor who not unfrequently said to any foreman or gangsman who -mentioned to him the applications for work, “O, give the poor devils a -turn, if it’s only for a day now and then.” - -_Piece-work_, or, as the scavagers call it, “by the load,” _did_ at one -time prevail, but not to any great extent. The prices varied, according -to the nature and the state of the road, from 2_s._ to 2_s._ 6_d._ the -load. The system of piece-work was never liked by the men; it seems -to have been resorted to less as a system, or mode of labour, than to -insure assiduity on the part of the working scavagers, when a rapid -street-cleansing was desirable. It was rather in the favour of the -working man’s _individual_ emoluments than otherwise, as may be shown -in the following way. In Battle-bridge, four men collect five loads -in dry, and six men seven loads in wet weather. If the average piece -hire be 2_s._ 3_d._ a load, it is 2_s._ 9-3/4_d._ for each of the five -men’s day’s work; if 2_s._ 2_d._ a load, it is 2_s._ 8-1/2_d._ (the -regular wage, and an extra halfpenny); if 2_s._, it is 2_s._ 6_d._; and -if less (which has been paid), the day’s wage is not lower than 2_s._ -At the lowest rates, however, the men, I was informed, could not be -induced to take the necessary pains, as they _would_ struggle to “make -up half-a-crown;” while, if the streets were scavaged in a slovenly -manner, the contractor was sure to hear from his friends of the parish -that he was not acting up to his contract. I could not hear of any men -now set to piece-work within the precincts of the places specified in -the table. This extra work and scamping work are the two great evils of -the piece system. - -In their payments to their men the contractors show a superiority to -the practices of some traders, and even of some dock-companies--the -men are never paid at public-houses; the payment, moreover, is always -in money. One contractor told me that he would like all his men to be -teetotallers, if he could get them, though he was not one himself. - -But these remarks refer only to the _nominal_ wages of the scavagers; -and I find the nominal wages of operatives in many cases are widely -different (either from some additions by way of perquisites, &c., -or deductions by way of fines, &c., but oftener the latter) from -the _actual_ wages received by them. Again, the average wages, or -gross yearly income of the casually-employed men, are very different -from those of the constant hands; so are the gains of a particular -individual often no criterion of the general or average earnings of -the trade. Indeed I find that the several varieties of wages may be -classified as follows:-- - -1. _Nominal Wages._--Those said to be paid in a trade. - -2. _Actual Wages._--Those _really_ received, and which are equal to the -nominal wages, _plus_ the additions to, or _minus_ the deductions from, -them. - -3. _Casual Wages._--The earnings of the men who are only occasionally -employed. - -4. _Average Casual or Constant Wages._--Those obtained throughout the -year by such as are either occasionally or regularly employed. - -5. _Individual Wages._--Those of particular hands, whether belonging -to the scurf or honourable trade, whether working long or short hours, -whether partially or fully employed, and the like. - -6. _General Wages._--Or the _average_ wages of the whole trade, -constant or casual, fully or partially employed, honourable or scurf, -long and short hour men, &c., &c., all lumped together and the mean -taken of the whole. - -Now in the preceding account of the working scavagers’ mode and rate -of payment I have spoken only of the nominal wages; and in order to -arrive at their actual wages we must, as we have seen, ascertain -what additions and what deductions are generally made to and from -this amount. The deductions in the honourable trade are, as usual, -inconsiderable. - - -TABLE SHOWING THE DIVISION OF LABOUR, MODE AND RATES OF PAYMENT, -NATURE OF WORK PERFORMED, TIME UNEMPLOYED, AND AVERAGE EARNINGS OF THE -OPERATIVE SCAVAGERS OF LONDON. - - -------------------------+------------+-------------------------+----------------------------------------------+ - | Mode of | Rates of | | - OPERATIVE SCAVAGERS. | Payment. | Payment. | Nature of Work performed. | - -------------------------+------------+-------------------------+----------------------------------------------+ - | | | | - I. _Manual Labourers._ | | | | - A. Better Paid. | | | | - Ganger |By the day. |18_s._ weekly, and 2_s._ | To load the cart and superintend the men. | - | | allowance. | | - Carman (2 horse) | „ „ |18_s._ weekly, and 2_s._ | To take care of the horses, help to load the | - | | allowance. | cart, and take the dirt and slop to the | - | | | dust-yard. | - Ditto (1 horse) | „ „ |16_s._ weekly, and 2_s._ | Ditto. ditto. ditto. | - | | allowance. | | - Sweepers | „ „ |16_s._ weekly, and 2_s._ | To sweep the district to which they are sent,| - | | allowance. | and collect the dirt or slop ready for | - | | | carting away. | - B. Worse Paid. | | | | - Ganger | „ „ |16_s._ weekly, and 1_s._ | To load the cart and superintend the men. | - | | allowance. | | - Carman | „ „ |15_s._ weekly, and 1_s._ | To take charge of the horse and cart, help | - | | allowance. | to load the cart, and take the dirt or slop| - | | | to the dust-yard. | - Sweepers | „ „ |15_s._ weekly, and 1_s._ | To sweep the district, collect the dirt or | - | | allowance. | slop ready for carting off, work in the | - | | | yard, and load the barge. | - | | | | - II. _Machine Men._ | | | | - Carman | „ „ |16_s._ weekly. | To take charge of the horse and machine, | - | | | collect the dirt and take it to the yard. | - Sweepers | „ „ |16_s._ weekly. | To sweep where the machine cannot touch, | - | | | work in the yard, and load the barges. | - | | | | - III. _Parish Men._ | | | | - A. Out-door Paupers. | | | | - 1. Paid in Money. | | | | - Married men | „ „ |9_s._ weekly. | Sweep the streets and courts belonging to | - | | | the parish, and collect the dirt or slop | - | | | ready for carting away. | - Single men | „ „ |6_s._ weekly. | Ditto. ditto. ditto. | - 2. Paid part in kind. | | | | - Married men | „ „ |6_s._ 9_d._ weekly, and | Ditto. ditto. ditto. | - | | 3 quartern loaves. | | - Single men | „ „ |5_s._ and 3 half-quartern| Ditto. ditto. ditto. | - | | loaves. | | - B. In-door Paupers |All in kind.|Food, lodging, and | Ditto. ditto. ditto. | - | | clothes. | | - | | | | - IV. _Street-Orderlies._ | | | | - Foreman or Ganger |By the day. |15_s._ weekly. | Superintend the men and see that their work | - | | | is done well. | - Sweepers | „ „ |12_s._ weekly. | Collect the dirt or slop ready for carting | - | | | away. | - Barrow men | „ „ | | Collect the short dung as it gathers in the | - | | | district to which they are appointed. | - Barrow boys | „ „ | | Ditto. ditto. ditto. | - - +-------------------------------+------------------------------------- - | Time unemployed during | Average casual (or constant) gains - | the Year. | throughout the Year. - +-------------------------------+------------------------------------- - | | - | | - | | - | Not two days during the year. | 20_s._ per week. - | | - | Seldom or never out of | 20_s._ „ - | employment. | - | | - | Ditto. ditto. | 18_s._ „ - | | - | About three months during | 13_s._ 6_d._ „ - | the year. | - | | - | | - | Three months during the year. | 12_s._ 9_d._ „ - | | - | Ditto. ditto. | 12_s._ „ - | | - | | - | Ditto. ditto. | 12_s._ „ - | | - | | - | | - | | - | Ditto. ditto. | 12_s._ „ - | | - | Ditto. ditto. | 12_s._ „ - | | - | | - | | - | | - | | - | Six months during the year. | 4_s._ 6_d._ „ - | | - | | - | Ditto. ditto. | 3_s._ „ - | | - | Ditto. ditto. | 3_s._ 4-1/2_d._ and 3 quartern loaves - | | weekly. - | Ditto. ditto. | 2_s._ 6_d._ and 3 half-quartern loaves - | | weekly. - | | Food, lodging, and clothes. - | | - | | - | | - | | - | | - | | - | | - | | - | | - | | - -All the _tools_ used by operative scavagers are supplied to them by -their employers--the tools being only brooms and shovels; and for this -supply there are _no stoppages_ to cover the expense. - -Neither by _fines_ nor by way of _security_ are the men’s wages reduced. - -The _truck system_, moreover, is unknown, and has never prevailed -in the trade. I heard of only one instance of an approach to it. A -yard foreman, some years ago, who had a great deal of influence with -his employer, had a chandler’s-shop, managed by his wife, and it was -broadly intimated to the men that they must make their purchases there. -Complaints, however, were made to the contractor, and the foreman -dismissed. One man of whom I inquired did not even know what the “truck -system” meant; and when informed, thought they were “pretty safe” from -it, as the contractor had nothing which he _could_ truck with the men, -and if “he polls us hisself,” the man said, “he’s not likely to let -anybody else do it.” - -There are, moreover, no trade-payments to which the men are subjected; -there are no trade-societies among the working men, no benefit nor sick -clubs; neither do parochial relief and family labour characterize the -regular hands in the honourable trade, although in sickness they may -have no other resource. - -Indeed, the working scavagers employed by the more honourable portion -of the trade, instead of having any deductions made from their nominal -wages, have rather additions to them in the form of perquisites coming -from the public. These perquisites consist of allowances of beer-money, -obtained in the same manner as the dustmen--not through the medium of -their employers (though, to say the least, through their sufferance), -but from the householders of the parish in which their labours are -prosecuted. - -The scavagers, it seems, are not required to sweep any places -considered “private,” nor even to sweep the public foot-paths; and when -they _do_ sweep or carry away the refuse of a butcher’s premises, for -instance--for, by law, the butcher is required to do so himself--they -receive a gratuity. In the contract entered into by the city scavagers, -it is expressly covenanted that no men employed shall accept gratuities -from the householders; a condition little or not at all regarded, -though I am told that these gratuities become less every year. I am -informed also by an experienced butcher, who had at one time a private -slaughter-house in the Borough, that, until within these six or seven -years, he thought the scavagers, and even the dustmen, would carry -away entrails, &c., in the carts, from the butcher’s and the knacker’s -premises, for an allowance. - -I cannot learn that the contractors, whether of the honourable or scurf -trade, take any advantage of these “allowances.” A working scavager -receives the same wage, when he enjoys what I heard called in another -trade “the height of perquisites,” or is employed in a locality where -there are no such additions to his wages. I believe, however, that the -contracting scavagers let their best and steadiest hands have the best -perquisited work. - -These perquisites, I am assured, average from 1_s._ to 2_s._ a week, -but one butcher told me he thought 1_s._ 6_d._ might be rather too high -an average, for a pint of beer (2_d._) was the customary sum given, and -that was, or ought to be, divided among the gang. “In my opinion,” he -said, “there’ll be no allowances in a year or two.” By the amount of -these perquisites, then, the scavagers’ gains are so far enhanced. - -The wages, therefore, of an operative scavager in full employ, and -working for the “honourable” portion of the trade, may be thus -expressed:-- - - _Nominal_ weekly wages 16_s._ - - Perquisites in the form of allowances - for beer from the public 2_s._ - ------ - _Actual_ weekly wages 18_s._ - - -OF THE “CASUAL HANDS” AMONG THE SCAVAGERS. - -Of the scavagers proper there are, as in all classes of unskilled -labour, that is to say, of labour which requires no previous -apprenticeship, and to which any one can “turn his hand” on an -emergency, two distinct orders of workmen, “the _regulars_ and -_casuals_” to adopt the trade terms; that is to say, the labourers -consist of those who have been many years at the trade, constantly -employed at it, and those who have but recently taken to it as a means -of obtaining a subsistence after their ordinary resources have failed. -This mixture of _constant_ and _casual_ hands is, moreover, a necessary -consequence of all trades which depend upon the seasons, and in which -an additional number of labourers are required at different periods. -Such is necessarily the case with dock labour, where an easterly wind -prevailing for several days deprives _thousands of work_, and where the -change from a foul to a fair wind causes an equally inordinate demand -for workmen. The same temporary increase of employment takes place -in the agricultural districts at harvesting time, and the same among -the hop growers in the picking season; and it will be hereafter seen -that there are the same labour fluctuations in the scavaging trade, a -greater or lesser number of hands being required, of course, according -as the season is wet or dry. - -This occasional increase of employment, though a benefit in some few -cases (as enabling a man suddenly deprived of his ordinary means of -living to obtain “a job of work” until he can “turn himself round”), is -generally a most alarming evil in a State. What are the casual hands -to do when the extra employment ceases? Those who have paid attention -to the subject of dock labour and the subject of casual labour in -general, may form some notion of the vast mass of misery that must -be generally existing in London. The subject of hop-picking again -belongs to the same question. Here are thousands of the very poorest -employed only for a few days in the year. What, the mind naturally -asks, do they after their short term of honest independence has ceased? -With dock labour the poor man’s bread depends upon the very winds; -in scavaging and in street life generally it depends upon the rain; -and in market-gardening, harvesting, hop-picking, and the like, it -depends upon the sunshine. How many thousands in this huge metropolis -have to look immediately to the very elements for their bread, it -is overwhelming to contemplate; and yet, with all this fitfulness -of employment we wonder that an extended knowledge of reading and -writing does not produce a decrease of crime! We should, however, -ask ourselves whether men can stay their hunger with alphabets or -grow fat on spelling books; and wanting employment, and consequently -food, and objecting to the _incarceration_ of the workhouse, can we -be astonished--indeed is it not a natural law--that they should help -themselves to the property of others? - - * * * * * - -Concerning the “regular hands” of the contracting scavagers, it may, -perhaps, be reasonable to compute that little short of one-half of them -have been “to the manner born.” The others are, as I have said, what -these regular hands call “casuals,” or “casualties.” As an instance of -the peculiar mixture of the regular and casual hands in the scavaging -trade, I may state that one of my informants told me he had, at one -period, under his immediate direction, fourteen men, of whom the former -occupations had been as follows:-- - - 7 Always Scavagers (or dustmen, and six - of them nightmen when required). - 1 Pot-boy at a public-house (but only as a boy). - 1 Stable-man (also nightman). - 1 Formerly a pugilist, then a showman’s assistant. - 1 Navvy. - 1 Ploughman (nightman occasionally). - 2 Unknown, one of them saying, but gaining - no belief, that he had once been a gentleman. - -- - 14 - -In my account of the street orderlies will be given an interesting and -elaborate statement of the former avocations, the habits, expenditure, -&c., of a body of street-sweepers, 67 in number. This table will be -found very curious, as showing what classes of men have been _driven_ -to street-sweeping, but it will not furnish a criterion of the -character of the “regular hands” employed by the contractors. - -The “casuals” or the “casualties” (always called among the men -“cazzelties”), may be more properly described as men whose employment -is accidental, chanceful, or uncertain. The regular hands of the -scavagers are apt to designate any new comer, even for a permanence, -any sweeper not reared to or versed in the business, a casual -(“cazzel”). I shall, however, here deal with the “casual hands,” not -only as hands newly introduced into the trade, but as men of chanceful -and irregular employment. - -These persons are now, I understand, numerous in all branches of -unskilled labour, willing to undertake or attempt any kind of work, -but perhaps there is a greater tendency on the part of the surplus -unskilled to turn to scavaging, from the fact that any broken-down man -seems to account himself competent to sweep the streets. - -To ascertain the number of these casual or outside labourers in the -scavaging trade is difficult, for, as I have said, they are willing -in their need to attempt any kind of work, and so may be “casuals” in -divers departments of unskilled labour. - -I do not think that I can better approximate the number of casuals than -by quoting the opinion of a contracting scavager familiar with his -workmen and their ways. He considered that there were always nearly -as many hands on the look-out for a job in the streets, as there were -regularly employed at the business by the large contractors; this I -have shown to be 262, let us estimate therefore the number of casuals -at 200. - -According to the table I have given at pp. 213, 214, the number of -men regularly or constantly employed at the metropolitan trade is as -follows:-- - - Scavagers employed by large contractors 262 - Ditto small contractors 13 - Ditto machines 25 - Ditto parishes 218 - Ditto street-orderlies 60 - --- - Total working scavagers in London 578 - -But the prior table given at pp. 186, 187, shows the number of -scavagers employed throughout the metropolis in wet and dry weather -(_exclusive of the street-orderlies_) to be as follows:-- - - Scavagers employed in wet weather 531 - Ditto in dry weather 358 - --- - Difference 173 - -Hence it would appear that about one-third less hands are required -in the dry than in the wet season of the year. The 170 hands, then, -discharged in the dry season are the casually employed men, but the -whole of these 170 are not turned adrift immediately they are no longer -wanted, some being kept on “odd jobs” in the yard, &c.; nor can that -number be said to represent the entire amount of the surplus labour in -the trade; but only that portion of it which _does_ obtain even casual -employment. After much trouble, and taking the average of various -statements, it would appear that the number of casualty or quantity of -occasional surplus labour in the scavaging trade may be represented at -between 200 and 250 hands. - -The scavaging trade, however, is not, I am informed, so overstocked -with labourers now as it was formerly. Seven years ago, and from -that to ten, there were usually between 200 and 300 hands out of -work; this was owing to there being a less extent of paved streets, -and comparatively few contractors; the scavaging work, moreover, was -“scamped,” the men, to use their own phrase, “licking the work over any -how,” so that fewer hands were required. Now, however, the inhabitants -are more particular, I am told, “about the crooks and corners,” and -require the streets to be swept oftener. Formerly a gang of operative -scavagers would only collect six loads of dirt a day, but now a gang -will collect nine loads daily. The causes to which the surplus of -labourers at present may be attributed are, I find, as follows:--Each -operative has to do nearly double the work to what he formerly did, the -extra cleansing of the streets having tended not only to employ more -hands, but to make each of those employed do more work. The result has, -however been followed by an increase in the wages of the operatives; -seven years ago the labourers received but 2_s._ a day, and the ganger -2_s._ 6_d._, but now the labourers receive 2_s._ 8_d._ a day, and the -ganger 3_s._ - -In the city the men have to work very long hours, sometimes as many as -18 hours a day without any extra pay. This practice of overworking is, -I find, carried on to a great extent, even with those master scavagers -who pay the regular wages. One man told me that when he worked for a -certain large master, whom he named, he has many times been out at work -28 hours in the wet (saturated to the skin) without having any rest. -This plan of overworking, again, is generally adopted by the small -masters, whose men, after they have done a regular day’s labour, are -set to work in the yard, sometimes toiling 18 hours a day, and usually -not less than 16 hours daily. Often so tired and weary are the men, -that when they rise in the morning to pursue their daily labour, they -feel as fatigued as when they went to bed. “Frequently,” said one of my -informants, “have I gone to bed so worn out, that I haven’t been able -to sleep. However” (he added), “there is the work to be done, and we -must do it or be off.” - -This system of overwork, especially in those trades where the quantity -of work to be done is in a measure fixed, I find to be a far more -influential cause of surplus labour than “over population.” The mere -number of labourers in a trade is, _per se_, no criterion as to the -quantity of labour employed in it; to arrive at this three things are -required:-- - - (1) The number of hands; - (2) The hours of labour; - (3) The rate of labouring; - -for it is a mere point of arithmetic, that if the hands in the -scavaging trade work 18 hours a day, there must be one-third less men -employed than there otherwise would, or in other words one-third of the -men who are in work must be thus deprived of it. This is one of the -crying evils of the day, and which the economists, filled as they are -with their over-population theories, have entirely overlooked. - -There are 262 men employed in the Metropolitan Scavaging Trade; -one-half of these at the least may be said to work 16 hours per diem -instead of 12, or one-third longer than they should; so that if the -hours of labour in this trade were restricted to the usual day’s work, -there would be employment for one-sixth more hands, or nearly 50 -individuals extra. - -The other causes of the present amount of surplus labour are-- - -The many hands thrown out of employment by the discontinuance of -railway works. - -A less demand for unskilled labour in agricultural districts, or a -smaller remuneration for it. - -A less demand for some branches of labour (as ostlers, &c.), by the -introduction of machinery (applied to roads), or through the caprices -of fashion. - -It should, however, be remembered, that men often found their opinions -of such causes on prejudices, or express them according to their class -interests, and it is only a few employers of unskilled labourers who -care to inquire into the antecedent circumstances of men who ask for -work. - -As regards the population part of the question, it cannot be said -that the surplus labour of the scavaging trade is referable to any -inordinate increase in the families of the men. Those who are married -appear to have, on the average, four children, and about one-half of -the men have no family at all. Early marriages are by no means usual. -Of the casual hands, however, full three-fourths are married, and -one-half have families. - -There are not more than ten or a dozen Irish labourers who have taken -to the scavaging, though several have “tried it on;” the regular hands -say that the Irish are too lazy to continue at the trade; but surely -the labour of the hodman, in which the Irish seem to delight, is -sufficient to disprove this assertion, be the cause what it may. About -one-fourth of the scavagers entering the scavaging trade as casual -hands have been agricultural labourers, and have come up to London from -the several agricultural districts in quest of work; about the same -proportion appear to have been connected with horses, such as ostlers, -carmen, &c. - -The _brisk and slack seasons_ in the scavaging trade depend upon the -state of the weather. In the depth of winter, owing to the shortness -of the days, more hands are usually required for street cleansing; but -a “clear frost” renders the scavager’s labour in little demand. In the -winter, too, his work is generally the hardest, and the hardest of -all when there is snow, which soon becomes mud in London streets; and -though a continued frost is a sort of lull to the scavagers’ labour, -after “a great thaw” his strength is taxed to the uttermost; and then, -indeed, new hands have had to be put on. At the West End, in the height -of the summer, which is usually the height of the fashionable season, -there is again a more than usual requirement of scavaging industry in -wet weather; but perhaps the greatest exercise of such industry is -after a series of the fogs peculiar to the London atmosphere, when the -men cannot _see_ to sweep. The table I have given shows the influence -of the weather, as on wet days 531 men are employed, and on dry days -only 358; this, however, does not influence the Street-Orderly system, -as under it the men are employed every day, unless the weather make it -an actual impossibility. - -According to the rain table given at p. 202, there would appear to be, -on an average of 23 years, 178 wet days in London out of the 365, that -is to say, about 100 in every 205 days are “rainy ones.” The months -having the greatest and least number of wet days are as follows:-- - - No. of days in - the month in - which rain - falls. - December 17 - July, August, October 16 - February, May, November 15 - January, April 14 - March, September 12 - June 11 - -Hence it would appear that June is the least and December the most -showery month in the course of the year; the greatest _quantity_ of -rain falling in any month is, however, in October, and the least -quantity in March. The number of wet days, and the quantity of rain -falling in each half of the year, may be expressed as follows:-- - - Total - Total in depth - No. of of rain - wet falling - days. in inches. - The first six months in the year - ending June there are 84 10 - The second six months in the - year ending December there are 93 14 - -Hence we perceive that the quantity of work for the scavagers would -fluctuate in the first and last half of the year in the proportion of -10 to 14, which is very nearly in the ratio of 358 to 531, which are -the numbers of hands given in table pp. 186, 187, as those employed in -wet and dry weather throughout the metropolis. - -If, then, the labour in the scavaging trade varies in the proportion of -5 to 7, that is to say, that 5 hands are required at one period and 7 -at another to execute the work, the question consequently becomes, how -do the 2 casuals who are discharged out of every 7 obtain their living -when the wet season is over? - -When a scavager is out of employ, he seldom or never applies to the -parish; this he does, I am informed, only when he is fairly “beaten -out” through sickness or old age, for the men “hate the thought -of going to the big house” (the union workhouse). An unemployed -operative scavager will go from yard to yard and offer his services -to do anything in the dust trade or any other kind of employment in -connection with dust or scavaging. - -Generally speaking, an operative scavager who is casually employed -obtains work at that trade for six or eight months during the -year, and the remaining portion of his time is occupied either at -rubbish-carting or brick-carting, or else he gets a job for a month or -two in a dust-yard. - -Many of these men seem to form a body of street-jobbers or operative -labourers, ready to work at the docks, to be navvies (when strong -enough), bricklayers’ labourers, street-sweepers, carriers of trunks -or parcels, window-cleaners, errand-goers, porters, and (occasionally) -nightmen. Few of the class seem to apply themselves to trading, as in -the costermonger line. They are the loungers about the boundaries of -trading, but seldom take any onward steps. The street-sweeper of this -week, a “casual” hand, may be a rubbish-carter or a labourer about -buildings the next, or he may be a starving man for days together, and -the more he is starving with the less energy will he exert himself to -obtain work: “it’s not in” a starving or ill-fed man to exert himself -otherwise than what may be called _passively_; this is well known to -all who have paid attention to the subject. The want of energy and -carelessness begotten by want of food was well described by the tinman, -at p. 355 in vol. i. - -One casual hand told me that last year he was out of work altogether -three months, and the year before not more than six weeks, and during -the six weeks he got a day’s work sometimes at rubbish carting and -sometimes at loading bricks. Their wives are often employed in the -yards as sifters, and their boys, when big enough, work also at the -heap, either in carrying off, or else as fillers-in; if there are any -girls, one is generally left at home to look after the rest and get -the meals ready for the other members of the family. If any of the -children go to school, they are usually sent to a ragged school in the -neighbourhood, though they seldom attend the school more than two or -three times during the week. - -The additional hands employed in wet weather are either men who at -other times work in the yards, or such as have their “turns” in -street-sweeping, if not regularly employed. There appears, however, -to be little of system in the arrangement. If more hands are wanted, -the gangsman, who receives his orders from the contractor or the -contractor’s managing man, is told to put on so many new hands, and -over-night he has but to tell any of the men at work that Jack, and -Bob, and Bill will be wanted in the morning, and they, if not employed -in other work, appear accordingly. - -There is nothing, however, which can be designated a _labour market_ -appertaining to the trade. No “house of call,” no trade society. If men -seek such employment, they must apply at the contractor’s premises, -and I am assured that poor men not unfrequently ask the scavagers -whom they see at work in the streets where to apply “for a job,” and -sometimes receive gruff or abusive replies. But though there is nothing -like a labour market in the scavager’s trade, the employers have not -to “look out” for men, for I was told by one of their foremen, that he -would undertake, if necessary, which it never was, by a mere “round -of the docks,” to select 200 new hale men, of all classes, and strong -ones, too, if properly fed, who in a few days would be tolerable -street-sweepers. It is a calling to which agricultural labourers are -glad to resort, and a calling to which _any_ labourer or any mechanic -may resort, more especially as regards sweeping or scraping, apart from -shovelling, which is regarded as something like the high art of the -business. - -We now come to estimate the earnings of the casual hands, whose yearly -incomes must, of course, be very different from those of the regulars. -The _constant_ weekly wages of any workman are of course the average -of his casual--and hence we shall find the wages of those who are -_regularly_ employed far exceed those of the _occasionally_ employed -men:-- - - £ _s._ _d._ - Nominal yearly wages at scavaging - for 25 weeks in the year, at 16_s._ - per week 20 16 0 - Perquisites for 26 weeks, at 2_s._ 2 12 0 - ------------------ - Actual yearly wages at scavaging 23 8 0 - Nominal and actual weekly wages - at rubbish carting for 20 weeks in - the year, at 12_s._ 12 0 0 - Unemployed six weeks in the year 0 0 0 - ----------------- - Gross yearly earnings 35 8 0 - ----------------- - Average casual or constant weekly - wages throughout the year 15 4-1/2 - -Hence the difference between the earnings of the casual and the -regular hand would appear to be one-sixth. But the great evil of all -casual labour is the uncertainty of the income--for where there is -the greatest chance connected with an employment, there is not only -the greatest necessity for providence, but unfortunately the greatest -tendency to improvidence. It is only when a man’s income becomes -regular and fixed that he grows thrifty, and lays by for the future; -but where all is chance-work there is but little ground for reasoning, -and the accident which assisted the man out of his difficulties at -one period is continually expected to do the same good turn for him -at another. Hence the casual hand, who passes the half of the year on -18_s._, and twenty weeks on 12_s._, and _six weeks on nothing_, lives -a life of excess both ways--of excess of “guzzling” when in work, and -excess of privation when out of it--oscillating, as it were, between -surfeit and starvation. - -A man who had worked in an iron-foundry, but who had “lost his work” -(I believe through some misconduct) and was glad to get employment as -a street-sweeper, as he had a good recommendation to a contractor, -told me that “the misery of the thing” was the want of regular work. -“I’ve worked,” he said, “for a good master for four months an end at -2_s._ 8_d._ a day, and they were prime times. Then I hadn’t a stroke of -work for a fortnight, and very little for two months, and if my wife -hadn’t had middling work with a laundress we might have starved, or I -might have made a hole in the Thames, for it’s no good living to be -miserable and feel you can’t help yourself any how. We was sometimes -half-starved, as it was. I’d rather at this minute have regular work at -10_s._ a week all the year round, than have chance-work that I could -earn 20_s._ a week at. I once had 15_s._ in relief from the parish, -and a doctor to attend us, when my wife and I was both laid up sick. -O, there’s no difference in the way of doing the work, whatever wages -you’re on for; the streets must be swept clean, of course. The plan’s -the same, and there’s the same sort of management, any how.” - - -STATEMENT OF A “REGULAR SCAVAGER.” - -The following statement of his business, his sentiments, and, indeed, -of the subjects which concerned him, or about which he was questioned, -was given to me by a street-sweeper, so he called himself, for I have -found some of these men not to relish the appellation of “scavager.” -He was a short, sturdy, somewhat red-faced man, without anything -particular in his appearance to distinguish him from the mass of -mere labourers, but with the sodden and sometimes dogged look of a -man contented in his ignorance, and--for it is not a very uncommon -case--rather proud of it. - -“I don’t know how old I am,” he said--I have observed, by the by, that -there is not any excessive vulgarity in these men’s tones or accent -so much as grossness in some of their expressions--“and I can’t see -what that consarns any one, as I’s old enough to have a jolly rough -beard, and so can take care of myself. I should think so. My father -was a sweeper, and I wanted to be a waterman, but father--he hasn’t -been dead long--didn’t like the thoughts on it, as he said they was -all drownded one time or ’nother; so I ran away and tried my hand as a -Jack-in-the-water, but I was starved back in a week, and got a h---- of -a clouting. After that I sifted a bit in a dust-yard, and helped in any -way; and I was sent to help at and larn honey-pot and other pot making, -at Deptford; but honey-pots was a great thing in the business. Master’s -foreman married a relation of mine, some way or other. I never tasted -honey, but I’ve heered it’s like sugar and butter mixed. The pots was -often wanted to look like foreign pots; I don’t know nothing what was -meant by it; some b---- dodge or other. No, the trade didn’t suit me at -all, master, so I left. I don’t know why it didn’t suit me; cause it -didn’t. Just then, father had hurt his hand and arm, in a jam again’ -a cart, and so, as I was a big lad, I got to take his place, and gave -every satisfaction to Mr. ----. Yes, he was a contractor and a great -man. I can’t say as I knows how contracting’s done; but it’s a bargain -atween man and man. So I got on. I’m now looked on as a stunning good -workman, I can tell you. - -“Well, I can’t say as I thinks sweeping the streets is hard work. I’d -rather sweep two hours than shovel one. It tires one’s arms and back -so, to go on shovelling. You can’t change, you see, sir, and the same -parts keeps getting gripped more and more. Then you must mind your eye, -if you’re shovelling slop into a cart, perticler so; or some feller -may run off with a complaint that he’s been splashed o’ purpose. _Is_ -a man ever splashed o’ purpose? No, sir, not as I knows on, in coorse -not. [Laughing.] Why should he? - -“The streets _must_ be done as they’re done now. It always was so, and -will always be so. Did I ever hear what London streets were like a -thousand years ago? It’s nothing to me, but they must have been like -what they is now. Yes, there was always streets, or how was people that -has tin to get their coals taken to them, and how was the public-houses -to get their beer? It’s talking nonsense, talking that way, a-asking -sich questions.” [As the scavager seemed likely to lose his temper, I -changed the subject of conversation.] - -“Yes,” he continued, “I have good health. I never had a doctor but -twice; once was for a hurt, and the t’other I won’t tell on. Well, I -think nightwork’s healthful enough, but I’ll not say so much for it as -you may hear some on ’em say. I don’t like it, but I do it when I’s -obligated under a necessity. It pays one as overwork; and werry like -more one’s in it, more one may be suited. I reckon no men works harder -nor sich as me. O, as to poor journeymen tailors and sich like, I knows -they’re stunning badly off, and many of their masters is the hardest of -beggars. I have a nephew as works for a Jew slop, but I don’t reckon -that _work_; anybody might do it. You think not, sir? Werry well, it’s -all the same. No, I won’t say as I could make a veskit, but I’ve sowed -my own buttons on to one afore now. - -“Yes, I’ve heered on the Board of Health. They’ve put down some -night-yards, and if they goes on putting down more, what’s to become -of the night-soil? I can’t think what they’re up to; but if they don’t -touch wages, it may be all right in the end on it. I don’t know that -them there consarns does touch wages, but one’s naterally afeard on -’em. I could read a little when I was a child, but I can’t now for want -of practice, or I might know more about it. I yarns my money gallows -hard, and requires support to do hard work, and if wages goes down, -one’s strength goes down. I’m a man as understands what things belongs. -I was once out of work, through a mistake, for a good many weeks, -perhaps five or six or more; I larned then what short grub meant. I got -a drop of beer and a crust sometimes with men as I knowed, or I might -have dropped in the street. What did I do to pass my time when I was -out of work? Sartinly the days seemed wery long; but I went about and -called at dust-yards, till I didn’t like to go too often; and I met men -I know’d at tap-rooms, and spent time that way, and axed if there was -any openings for work. I’ve been out of collar odd weeks now and then, -but when this happened, I’d been on slack work a goodish bit, and was -bad for rent three weeks and more. My rent was 2_s._ a week then; its -1_s._ 9_d._ now, and my own traps. - -“No, I can’t say I was sorry when I was forced to be idle that way, -that I hadn’t kept up my reading, nor tried to keep it up, because I -couldn’t then have settled down my mind to read; I know I couldn’t. I -likes to hear the paper read well enough, if I’s resting; but old Bill, -as often wolunteers to read, has to spell the hard words so, that one -can’t tell what the devil he’s reading about. I never heers anything -about books; I never heered of Robinson Crusoe, if it wasn’t once at -the Wic. [Victoria Theatre]; I think there was some sich a name there. -He lived on a deserted island, did he, sir, all by hisself? Well, I -think, now you mentions it, I have heered on him. But one needn’t -believe all one hears, whether out of books or not. I don’t know much -good that ever anybody as I knows ever got out of books; they’re -fittest for idle people. Sartinly I’ve seen working people reading in -coffee-shops; but they might as well be resting theirselves to keep -up their strength. Do I think so? I’m sure on it, master. I sometimes -spends a few browns a-going to the play; mostly about Christmas. It’s -werry fine and grand at the Wic., that’s the place I goes to most; both -the pantomimers and t’ other things is werry stunning. I can’t say how -much I spends a year in plays; I keeps no account; perhaps 5_s._ or so -in a year, including expenses, sich as beer, when one goes out after a -stopper on the stage. I don’t keep no accounts of what I gets, or what -I spends, it would be no use; money comes and it goes, and it often -goes a d----d sight faster than it comes; so it seems to me, though I -ain’t in debt just at this time. - -“I never goes to any church or chapel. Sometimes I hasn’t clothes as -is fit, and I s’pose I couldn’t be admitted into sich fine places in -my working dress. I was once in a church, but felt queer, as one does -in them strange places, and never went again. They’re fittest for rich -people. Yes, I’ve heered about religion and about God Almighty. _What_ -religion have I heered on? Why, the regular religion. I’m satisfied -with what I knows and feels about it, and that’s enough about it. I -came to tell you about trade and work, because Mr. ---- told me it -might do good; but religion hasn’t nothing to do with it. Yes, Mr. -----’s a good master, and a religious man; but I’ve known masters as -didn’t care a d--n for religion, as good as him; and so you see it -comes to much the same thing. I cares nothing about politics neither; -but I’m a chartist. - -“I’m not a married man. I was a-going to be married to a young woman -as lived with me a goodish bit as my housekeeper” [this he said very -demurely]; “but she went to the hopping to yarn a few shillings for -herself, and never came back. I heered that she’d taken up with an -Irish hawker, but I can’t say as to the rights on it. Did I fret about -her? Perhaps not; but I was wexed. - -“I’m sure I can’t say what I spends my wages in. I sometimes makes -12_s._ 6_d._ a week, and sometimes better than 21_s._ with night-work. -I suppose grub costs 1_s._ a day, and beer 6_d._; but I keeps no -accounts. I buy ready-cooked meat; often cold b’iled beef, and eats it -at any tap-room. I have meat every day; mostly more than once a day. -Wegetables I don’t care about, only ingans and cabbage, if you can get -it smoking hot, with plenty of pepper. The rest of my tin goes for rent -and baccy and togs, and a little drop of gin now and then.” - -The statement I have given is sufficiently explicit of the general -opinions of the “regular scavagers” concerning literature, politics, -and religion. On these subjects the great majority of the regular -scavagers have no opinions at all, or opinions distorted, even when -the facts seem clear and obvious, by ignorance, often united with its -nearest of kin, prejudice and suspiciousness. I am inclined to think, -however, that the man whose narrative I noted down was more dogged in -his ignorance than the body of his fellows. All the intelligent men -with whom I conversed, and whose avocations had made them familiar -for years with this class, concurred in representing them as grossly -ignorant. - -This description of the scavagers’ ignorance, &c., it must be -remembered, applies only to the “regular hands.” Those who have -joined the ranks of the street-sweepers from other callings are more -intelligent, and sometimes more temperate. - -The system of concubinage, with a great degree of fidelity in the -couple living together without the sanction of the law--such as I have -described as prevalent among the costermongers and dustmen--is also -prevalent among the regular scavagers. - -I did not hear of habitual unkindness from the parents to the children -born out of wedlock, but there is habitual neglect of all or much -which a child should be taught--a neglect growing out of ignorance. I -heard of two scavagers with large families, of whom the treatment was -sometimes very harsh, and at others mere petting. - -Education, or rather the ability to read and write, is not common -among the adults in this calling, so that it cannot be expected to be -found among their children. Some labouring men, ignorant themselves, -but not perhaps constituting a class or a clique like the regular -scavagers, try hard to procure for their children the knowledge, the -want of which they usually think has barred their own progress in life. -Other ignorant men, mixing only with “their own sort,” as is generally -the case with the regular scavagers, and in the several branches of -the business, often think and say that what _they_ did without their -children could do without also. I even heard it said by one scavager -that it wasn’t right a child should ever think himself wiser than -his father. A man who knew, in the way of his business as a private -contractor for night-work, &c., a great many regular scavagers, “ran -them over,” and came to the conclusion that about four or five out of -twenty could read, ill or tolerably well, and about three out of forty -could write. He told me, moreover, that one of the most intelligent -fellows generally whom he knew among them, a man whom he had heard -read well enough, and always understood to be a tolerable writer, the -other day brought a letter from his son, a soldier abroad with his -regiment in Lower Canada, and requested my informant to read it to -him, as “that kind of writing,” although plain enough, was “beyond -him.” The son, in writing, had availed himself of the superior skill of -a corporal in his company, so that the letter, on family matters and -feelings, was written by deputy and read by deputy. The costermongers, -I have shown, when themselves unable to read, have evinced a fondness -for listening to exciting stories of courts and aristocracies, and have -even bought penny periodicals to have their contents read to them. The -scavagers appear to have no taste for this mode of enjoying themselves; -but then their leisure is far more circumscribed than that of the -costermongers. - -It must be borne in mind that I have all along spoken of the regular -(many of them hereditary) scavagers employed by the more liberal -contractors. - -There are yet accounts of habitations, statements of wages, &c., &c., -to be given, in connection with men working for the honourable masters, -before proceeding to the scurf-traders. - -The working scavagers usually reside in the neighbourhood of the -dust-yards, occupying “second-floor backs,” kitchens (where the -entire house is sublet, a system often fraught with great extortion), -or garrets; they usually, and perhaps always, when married, or what -they consider “as good,” have their own furniture. The rent runs from -1_s._ 6_d._ to 2_s._ 3_d._ weekly, an average being 1_s._ 9_d._ or -1_s._ 10_d._ One room which I was in was but barely furnished,--a -sort of dresser, serving also for a table; a chest; three chairs (one -almost bottomless); an old turn-up bedstead, a Dutch clock, with the -minute-hand broken, or as the scavager very well called it when he -saw me looking at it, “a stump;” an old “corner cupboard,” and some -pots and domestic utensils in a closet without a door, but retaining -a portion of the hinges on which a door had swung. The rent was 1_s._ -10_d._, with a frequent intimation that it ought to be 2_s._ The place -was clean enough, and the scavager seemed proud of it, assuring me that -his old woman (wife or concubine) was “a good sort,” and kept things as -nice as ever she could, washing everything herself, where “other old -women lushed.” The only ornaments in the room were three profiles of -children, cut in black paper and pasted upon white card, tacked to the -wall over the fire-place, for mantel-shelf there was none, while one of -the three profiles, that of the eldest child (then dead), was “framed,” -with a glass, and a sort of bronze or “cast” frame, costing, I was -told, 15_d._ This was the apartment of a man in regular employ (with -but a few exceptions). - -Another scavager with whom I had some conversation about his labours -as a nightman, for he was both, gave me a full account of his own -diet, which I find to be sufficiently specific as to that of his class -generally, but only of the regular hands. - -[Illustration: THE LONDON SCAVENGER. - -[_From a Daguerreotype by_ BEARD.]] - -The diet of the regular working scavager (or nightman) seems generally -to differ from that of mechanics, and perhaps of other working men, -in the respect of his being fonder of salt and _strong-flavoured_ -food. I have before made the same remark concerning the diet of -the poor generally. I do not mean, however, that the scavagers are -fond of such animal food as is called “high,” for I did not hear that -nightmen or scavagers were more tolerant of what approached putridity -than other labouring men, and, despite their calling, might sicken at -the rankness of some haunches of venison; but they have a great relish -for highly-salted cold boiled beef, bacon, or pork, with a saucer-full -of red pickled cabbage, or dingy-looking pickled onions, or one or -two big, strong, raw onions, of which most of them seem as fond as -Spaniards of garlic. This sort of meat, sometimes profusely mustarded, -is often eaten in the beer-shops with thick “shives” of bread, cut -into big mouthfuls with a clasp pocket-knife, while vegetables, unless -indeed the beer-shop can supply a plate of smoking hot potatoes, are -uncared for. The drink is usually beer. The same style of eating and -the same kind of food characterize the scavager and nightman, when -taking his meal at home with his wife or family; but so irregular, and -often of necessity, are these men’s hours, that they may be said to -have no homes, merely places to sleep or dose in. - -A working scavager and nightman calculated for me his expenses in -eating and drinking, and other necessaries, for the previous week. He -had earned 15_s._, but 1_s._ of this went to pay off an advance of -5_s._ made to him by the keeper of a beer-shop, or, as he called it, a -“jerry.” - - Daily. Weekly. - _d._ _s._ _d._ - Rent of an unfurnished room 1 9 - Washing (average) 3 - [The man himself washed - the dress in which he - worked, and generally - washed his own stockings.] - Shaving (when twice a week) 1 - Tobacco 1 7 - [Short pipes are given to - these men at the beer-shops, - or public-houses - which they “use.”] - Beer 4 2 4 - [He usually spent more than - 4_d._ a day in beer, he said, - “it was only a pot;” but - this week more beer than - usual had been given to - him in nightwork.] - Gin 2 1 2 - [The same with gin.] - Cocoa (pint at a coffee-shop). 1-1/2 10-1/2 - Bread (quartern loaf) (sometimes - 5-1/2_d._) 6 3 6 - Boiled salt beef (3/4 lb. or 1/2 lb. - daily, “as happened,” for - two meals, 6_d._ per pound, - average) 4 2 4 - Pickles or Onions 0-1/4 1-3/4 - Butter 1 - Soap 1 - -------------------- - 13 2-1/4 - -Perhaps this informant was excessive in his drink. I believe he was -so; the others not drinking so much regularly. The odd 9_d._, he told -me, he paid to “a snob,” because he said he was going to send his -half-boots to be mended. - -This man informed me he was a “widdur,” having lost his old ’oman, and -he got all his meals at a beer or coffee-shop. Sometimes, when he was -a street-sweeper by day and a nightman by night, he had earned 20_s._ -to 22_s._; and then he could have his pound of salt meat a day, for -_three_ meals, with a “baked tatur or so, when they was in.” I inquired -as to the apparently low charge of 6_d._ per pound for cooked meat, but -I found that the man had stated what was correct. In many parts good -boiled “brisket,” fresh cut, is 7_d._ and 8_d._ per lb., with mustard -into the bargain; and the cook-shop keepers (not the eating-house -people) who sell boiled hams, beef, &c., in retail, but not to be eaten -on the premises, vend the hard remains of a brisket, and sometimes of a -round, for 6_d._, or even less (also with mustard), and the scavagers -like this better than any other food. In the brisk times my informant -sometimes had “a hot cut” from a shop on a Sunday, and a more liberal -allowance of beer and gin. If he had any piece of clothing to buy he -always bought it at once, before his money went for other things. These -were his proceedings when business was brisk. - -In slacker times his diet was on another footing. He then made his -supper, or second meal, for tea he seldom touched, on “fagots.” This -preparation of baked meats costs 1_d._ hot--but it is seldom sold -hot except in the evening--and 3/4_d._, or more frequently two for -1-1/2_d._, cold. It is a sort of cake, roll, or ball, a number being -baked at a time, and is made of chopped liver and lights, mixed with -gravy, and wrapped in pieces of pig’s caul. It weighs six ounces, so -that it is unquestionably a cheap, and, to the scavager, a savoury -meal; but to other nostrils its odour is not seductive. My informant -regretted the capital fagots he used to get at a shop when he worked -in Lambeth; superior to anything he had been able to meet with on the -Middlesex side of the water. Or he dined off a saveloy, costing 1_d._, -and bread; or bought a pennyworth of strong cheese, and a farthing’s -worth of onions. He would further reduce his daily expenditure on -cocoa (or coffee sometimes) to 1_d._, and his bread to three-quarters -of a loaf. He ate, however, in average times, a quarter of a quartern -loaf to his breakfast (sometimes buying a halfpennyworth of butter), a -quarter or more to his dinner, the same to his supper, and the other, -with an onion for a relish, to his beer. He was a great bread eater, -he said; but sometimes, if he slept in the daytime, half a loaf would -“stand over to next day.” He was always hungriest when at work among -the street-mud, or night-soil, or when he had finished work. - -On my asking him if he meant that he partook of the meals he had -described daily, he answered “no,” but that was _mostly_ what he had; -and if he bought a bit of cold boiled, or even roast pork, “what -offered cheap,” the expense was about the same. When he was drinking, -and he did “make a break sometimes,” he ate nothing, and “wasn’t -inclined to,” and he seemed rather to plume himself on this, as a point -of economy. He had tasted fruit pies, but cared nothing for them; -but liked four penn’orth of a hot meat or giblet pie on a Sunday. -Batter-pudding he only liked if smoking hot; and it was “uncommon -improved,” he said, “with an ingan!” Rum he preferred to gin, only it -was dearer, but most of the scavagers, he thought, liked Old Tom (gin) -best; but “they was both good.” - -Of the drinking of these men I heard a good deal, and there is no -doubt that some of them tope hard, and by their conduct evince a sort -of belief that the great end of labour is beer. But it must be borne -in mind that if inquiries are made as to the man best adapted to give -information concerning any rude calling (especially), some talkative -member of the body of these working men, some pot-house hero who has -persuaded himself and his ignorant mates that he is an oracle, is put -forward. As these men are sometimes, from being trained to, and long -known in their callings, more prosperous than their fellows, their -opinions seem ratified by their circumstances. But in such cases, or in -the appearance of such cases, it has been my custom to make subsequent -inquiries, or there might be frequent misleadings, were the statements -of these men taken as typical of the feelings and habits of the _whole_ -body. The statement of the working scavager given under this head is -unquestionably typical of the character of a portion of his co-workers, -and more especially of what was, and in the sort of hereditary -scavagers I have spoken of _is_, the character of the regular hands. -There are now, however, many checks to prolonged indulgence in “lush,” -as every man of the ruder street-sweeping class _will_ call it. The -contractors must be served regularly; the most indulgent will not -tolerate any unreasonable absence from work, so that the working -scavagers, at the jeopardy of their means of living, must leave their -carouse at an hour which will permit them to rise soon enough in the -morning. - -The beer which these men imbibe, it should be also remembered, they -regard as a proper part of their diet, in the same light, indeed, as -they regard so much bread, and that among them the opinion is almost -universal, that beer is necessary to “keep up their strength;” there -are a few teetotallers belonging to the class; one man thought he -_knew_ five, and had _heard_ of five others. - -I inquired of the landlord of a beer-shop, frequented by these men, -as to their potations, but he wanted to make it appear that they took -a half-pint, _now and then_, when thirsty! He was evidently tender -of the character of his customers. The landlord of a public house -also frequented by them informed me that he really could not say what -they expended in beer, for labourers of all kinds “used his tap,” -and as all tap-room liquor was paid for on delivery in his and all -similar establishments, he did not know the quantity supplied to any -particular class. He was satisfied these men, as a whole, drank less -than they did at one time; though he had no doubt some (he seemed to -know no distinctions between scavagers, dustmen, and nightmen) spent -1_s._ a day in drink. He knew one scavager who was dozing about not -long since for nearly a week, “sleepy drunk,” and the belief was that -he had “found something.” The absence of all accounts prevents my -coming to anything definite on this head, but it seems positive that -these men drink less than they did. The landlord in question thought -the statement I have given as to diet and drink perfectly correct for a -regular hand in good earnings. I am assured, however, and it is my own -opinion, after long inquiry, that one-third of their earnings is spent -in drink. - - -OF THE INFLUENCE OF FREE TRADE ON THE EARNINGS OF THE SCAVAGERS. - -As regards the influence of Free Trade upon the scavaging business, I -could gain little or no information from the body of street-sweepers, -because they have never noticed its operation, and the men, with -the exception of such as have sunk into street-sweeping from -better-informed conditions of life, know nothing about it. Among _all_, -however, I have heard statements of the blessing of cheap bread; always -cheap _bread_. “There’s nothing like bread,” say the men, “it’s not -all poor people can get meat; but they _must_ get bread.” Cheap food -all labouring men pronounce a blessing, as it unquestionably is, but -“somehow,” as a scavager’s carman said to me, “the thing ain’t working -as it should.” - -In the course of the present and former inquiries among unskilled -labourers, street-sellers, and costermongers, I have found the great -majority of the more intelligent declare that Free Trade had not -worked well for them, because there were more labourers and more -street-sellers than were required, for each man to live by his toil and -traffic, and because the numbers increased yearly, and the demand for -their commodities did not increase in proportion. Among the ignorant, I -heard the continual answers of, “I can’t say, sir, what it’s owing to, -that I’m so bad off;” or, “Well, I can’t tell anything about that.” - -It is difficult to state, however, without positive inquiry, whether -this extra number of hands be due to diminished employment in the -agricultural districts, since the repeal of the Corn Laws, or -whether it be due to the insufficiency of occupation generally for -the increasing population. One thing at least is evident, that the -increase of the trades alluded to cannot be said to arise directly -from diminished agricultural employment, for but few farm labourers -have entered these businesses since the change from Protection to Free -Trade. If, therefore, Free-Trade principles _have_ operated injuriously -in reducing the work of the unskilled labourers, street-sellers, and -the poorer classes generally, it can have done so only _indirectly_; -that is to say, by throwing a mass of displaced country labour into -the towns, and so displacing other labourers from their ordinary -occupations, as well as by decreasing the wages of working-men -generally. Hence it becomes almost impossible, I repeat, to tell -whether the increasing difficulty that the poor experience in living by -their labour, is a consequence or merely a concomitant of the repeal -of the Corn Laws; if it be a consequence, of course the poor are no -better for the alteration; if, however, it be a coincidence rather -than a necessary result of the measure, the circumstances of the poor -are, of course, as much improved as they would have been impoverished -provided that measure had never become law. I candidly confess I am as -yet without the means of coming to any conclusion on this part of the -subject. - -Nor can it be said that in the scavagers’ trade wages have in any way -declined since the repeal of the Corn Laws; so that were it not for the -difficulty of obtaining employment among the _casual_ hands, this class -must be allowed to have been considerable gainers by the reduction in -the price of food, and even as it is, the _constant_ hands must be -acknowledged to be so. - -I will now endeavour to reduce to a tabular form such information as I -could obtain as to the expenditure of the labourer in scavaging before -and after the establishment of Free Trade. I inquired, the better -to be assured of the accuracy of the representations and accounts I -received from labourers, the price of meat then and now. A butcher -who for many years has conducted a business in a populous part of -Westminster and in a populous suburb, supplying both private families -with the best joints, and the poor with their “little bits” their -“block ornaments” (meat in small pieces exposed on the chopping-block), -their purchases of liver, and of beasts’ heads. In 1845, the year I -take as sufficiently prior to the Free-Trade era, my informant from -his recollection of the state of his business and from consulting his -books, which of course were a correct guide, found that for a portion -of the year in question, mutton was as much as 7-1/2_d._ per lb. -(Smithfield prices), now the same quality of meat is but 5_d._ This, -however, was but a temporary matter, and from causes which sometimes -are not very ostensible or explicable. Taking the butcher’s trade that -year as a whole, it was found sufficiently conclusive, that meat was -generally 1_d._ per lb. higher then than at present. My informant, -however, was perfectly satisfied that, although situated in the same -way, and with the same class of customers, he did _not_ sell so much -meat to the poor and labouring classes as he did five or six years ago, -_he believed not by one-eighth_, although perhaps “pricers of his meat” -among the poor were more numerous. For this my informant accounted by -expressing his conviction that the labouring men spent their money in -drink more than ever, and were a longer time in recovering from the -effects of tippling. This supposition, from what I have observed in the -course of the present inquiry, is negatived by facts. - -Another butcher, also supplying the poor, said they bought less of him; -but he could not say exactly to what extent, perhaps an eighth, and -he attributed it to less work, there being no railways about London, -fewer buildings, and less general employment. About the wages of the -labourers he could not speak as influencing the matter. From this -tradesmen also I received an account that meat generally was 1_d._ per -lb. higher at the time specified. Pickled Australian beef was four -or five years ago very low--3_d._ per lb.--salted and prepared, and -“swelling” in hot water, but the poor “couldn’t eat the stringy stuff, -for it was like pickled ropes.” “It’s better now,” he added, “but it -don’t sell, and there’s no nourishment in such beef.” - -But these tradesmen agreed in the information that poor labourers -bought less meat, while one pronounced Free Trade a blessing, the other -declared it a curse. I suggested to each that cheaper fish might have -something to do with a smaller consumption of butcher’s meat, but both -said that cheap fish was the great thing for the Irish and the poor -needle-women and the like, who were never at any time meat eaters. - -From respectable bakers I ascertained that bread might be considered -1_d._ a quartern loaf dearer in 1845 than at present. Perhaps the -following table may throw a fuller light on the matter. I give it from -what I learned from several men, who were without accounts to refer to, -but speaking positively from memory; I give the statement per week, as -for a single man, without charge for the support of a wife and family, -and without any help from other resources. - - ------------------+----------------------+----------------+------------ - | | | Saving - | Before Free | After Free | since - | Trade. | Trade. | Free - | | | Trade. - ------------------+----------------------+----------------+------------ - Rent | 1_s._ 6_d._ | 1_s._ 6_d._ | ... - Bread (5 loaves) | 2_s._ 11_d._ | 2_s._ 6_d._ | 5_d._ - Butter (1/2 lb.) | 5_d._ | 5_d._ | ... - Tea (2 oz.) | 8_d._ | 8_d._ | ... - Sugar (1/2 lb.) | 3_d._ | 2_d._ | 1_d._ - Meat (3 lb.) | 1_s._ 6_d._ | 1_s._ 3_d._ | 3_d._ - Bacon (1 lb.) | 5_d._ | 5_d._ | ... - Fish (a dinner |3_d._, or 1_s._ 6_d._ |2_d._, or 1_s._ | - a day, 6 days) | weekly. | weekly. | 6_d._ - Potatoes or | | | - Vegetables | | | - (1/2_d._ a day) | 3-1/2_d._ | 3-1/2_d._ | ... - Beer (pot) | 3-1/2_d._ | 3-1/2_d._ | ... - ------------------+----------------------+----------------+------------ - Total saving, per week, since Free Trade | 1_s._ 3_d._ - ----------------------------------------------------------+------------ - -In butter, bacon, potatoes, &c., and beer, I could hear of no changes, -except that bacon might be a trifle cheaper, but instead of a good -quality selling better, although cheaper, there was a demand for an -inferior sort. - -In the foregoing table the weekly consumption of several necessaries is -given, but it is not to be understood that one man consumes them all in -a week; they are what may generally be consumed when such things are in -demand by the poor, one week after another, or one day after another, -forming an aggregate of weeks. - -Thus, Free Trade and cheap provisions are an unquestionable benefit, if -unaffected by drawbacks, to the labouring poor. - -The above statement refers only to a fully employed hand. - -The following table gives the change since Free Trade in the earnings -of casual hands, and relates to the past and the present expenditure of -a scavager. The man, who was formerly a house painter, said he could -bring me 50 men similarly circumstanced to himself. - - --------------------------+------------------------- - In 1845, per Week. | In 1851, per Week. - --------------------------+------------------------- - _s._ _d._ | _s._ _d._ - Rent 1 4 |Rent 1 8 - 5 loaves 2 11 |4 loaves 2 0 - Butter 0 5 |Butter 0 5 - Tea 0 6 |Tea 0 5 - Meat (3 lbs.) 1 6 |Meat (3 lbs.) 1 0 - Potatoes 0 3 |Potatoes 0 2 - Beer (a pot) 0 4 |Beer (a pint) 0 2 - --------------------------+------------------------- - 7 3 | 5 10 - --------------------------+------------------------- - -Here, then, we find a positive saving in the expenditure of 1_s._ 5_d._ -per week in this man’s wages, since the cheapening of food. - -His earnings, however, tell a different story. - - --------------------+------------+------------- - | 1845. | 1851. - --------------------+------------+------------- - | _s._ _d._ | _s._ _d._ - Earnings of 6 days | 15 0 | - Ditto 3 days | | 7 6 - +------------+------------- - Weekly Income | 15 0 | 7 6 - Expenditure | 7 3 | 5 10 - +------------+------------- - Difference | 7 9 | 1 8 - --------------------+------------+------------ - -Thus we perceive that the beneficial effects of cheapness are defeated -by the dearth of employment among labourers. - -It is impossible to come to _precise_ statistics in this matter, but -all concurrent evidence, as regards the unskilled work of which I now -treat, shows that labour is attainable at almost any rate. - -Another drawback to the benefits of cheap food I heard of first in my -inquiries (for the Letters on Labour and the Poor, in the _Morning -Chronicle_) among the boot and shoemakers--their rents had been raised -in consequence of their landlords’ property having been subjected to -the income tax. Numbers of large houses are now let out in single -rooms, in the streets off Tottenham-court-road, and near Golden-square, -as well as in many other quarters--to men, who, working for West-end -tradesmen, must live, for economy of time, near the shops from which -they derive their work. Near and in Cunningham-street and other -streets, two men, father and son, rent upwards of 30 houses, the whole -of which they let out in one or two rooms, it is believed at a very -great profit; in fact they live by it. - -The rent of these houses, among many others, was raised when the -income tax was imposed, the sub-lettors declaring, with what truth no -one knew, that the rents were raised to them. It is common enough for -capitalists to fling such imposts on the shoulders of the poor, and -I heard scavagers complain, that every time they had to change their -rooms, they had either to pay more rent by 2_d._ or 3_d._ a week, or -put up with a worse place. One man who lived at the time of the passing -of the Income Tax Bill in Shoe-lane, found his rent raised suddenly -3_d._ a week, a non-resident landlord or agent calling for it weekly. -He was told that the advance was to meet the income tax. “I know -nothing about what income tax means,” he said, “but it’s some ---- -roguery as is put on the poor.” I heard complaints to the same purport -from several working scavagers, and the lettors of rooms are the most -exacting in places crowded with the poor, and where the poor think or -feel they must reside “to be handy for work.” What connection there may -be between the questions of Free Trade and the necessity of the income -tax, it is not my business now to dilate upon, but it is evident that -the circumstances of the country are not sufficiently prosperous to -enable parliament to repeal this “temporary” impost. - -From a better informed class than the scavagers, I might have derived -data on which to form a calculation from account books, &c., but I -could hear of none being kept. I remember that a lady’s shoemaker told -me that the weekly rents of the ten rooms in the house in which he -lived were 4_s._ 3_d._ higher than before the income tax, which “came -to the same thing as an extra penny on over 50 loaves a week.” It is -certain that the great tax-payers of London are the labouring classes. - -I have endeavoured to ascertain the facts in connection with this -complex subject in as calm and just a manner as possible, leaning -neither to the Protectionist nor the Free-Trade side of the question, -and I must again in honesty acknowledge, that to the _constant_ hands -among the scavagers and dustmen of the metropolis, the repeal of the -Corn Laws appears to have been an unquestionable benefit. - -I shall conclude this exposition of the condition and earnings of the -working scavagers employed by the more honourable masters, with an -account of the average income and expenditure of the better-paid hands -(regular and casual, as well as single and married), and first, of the -unmarried regular hand. - -The following is an estimate of the income and expenditure of an -_unmarried_ operative scavager _regularly_ employed, working for a -large contractor:-- - - WEEKLY INCOME. | WEEKLY EXPENDITURE. - £ _s._ _d._ | £ _s._ _d._ - _Constant Wages._ | Rent 0 2 0 - Nominal weekly wages 0 16 0 | Washing and mending 0 0 10 - Perquisites 0 2 0 | Clothes, and repairing - ------------ | ditto 0 0 10 - Actual weekly wages 0 18 0 | Butcher’s meat 0 3 6 - | Bacon 0 0 8 - | Vegetables 0 0 4 - | Cheese 0 0 4 - | Beer 0 3 0 - | Spirits 0 1 0 - | Tobacco 0 0 10-1/2 - | Butter 0 0 7-1/2 - | Sugar 0 0 4 - | Tea 0 0 3 - | Coffee 0 0 3 - | Fish 0 0 4 - | Soap 0 0 2 - | Shaving 0 0 1 - | Fruit 0 0 4 - | Keep of 2 dogs 0 0 6 - | Amusements, as - | skittles, &c. 0 1 9 - | ------------- - | 0 18 0 - - -The subjoined represents the income of an _unmarried_ operative -scavager _casually_ employed by a small master scavager six months -during the year, at 15_s._ a week, and 20 weeks at sand and rubbish -carting, at 12_s._ a week. - - _Casual Wages._ £ _s._ _d._ - Nominal weekly wages at scavaging, 16_s._ for - 26 weeks during the year 20 16 0 - Perquisites, 2_s._ for 26 weeks during the year 2 12 0 - ---------------- - Actual weekly wages for 26 weeks during the - year 0 16 0 - Nominal and actual weekly wages at rubbish - carting, 12_s._ for 20 weeks more during the - year 12 0 0 - ---------------- - Average casual or constant weekly wages - throughout the year 0 15 4-1/2 - -The expenditure of this man when in work was nearly the same as that -of the regular hand; the main exceptions being that his rent was 1_s._ -instead of 2_s._, and no dogs were kept. When in work he saved nothing, -and when out of work lived as he could. - -The _married_ scavagers are differently circumstanced from the -_unmarried_; their earnings are generally increased by those of their -family. - -The labour of the wives and children of the scavagers is not -unfrequently in the capacity of sifters in the dust-yards, where the -wives of the men employed by the contractors have the preference, and -in other but somewhat rude capacities. One of their wives I heard of -as a dresser of sheep’s trotters; two as being among the most skilful -dressers of tripe for a large shop; one as “a cat’s-meat seller” (her -father’s calling); but I still speak of the regular scavagers--I could -not meet with one woman “working a slop-needle.” One, indeed, I saw who -was described to me as a “feather dresser to an out-and-out negur,” but -the woman assured me she was neither badly paid nor badly off. Perhaps -by such labour, as an average on the part of the wives, 9_d._ a day is -cleared, and 1_s._ “on tripe and such like.” Among the “casual’s” wives -there are frequent instances of the working for slop shirt-makers, &c., -upon the coarser sorts of work, and at “starvation wages,” but on such -matters I have often dwelt. I heard from some of these men that it -was looked upon as a great thing if the wife’s labour could clear the -week’s rent of 1_s._ 6_d._ to 2_s._ - -The following may be taken as an estimate of the income and outlay of a -_better paid and fully_ employed operative scavager, with his wife and -two children:-- - - WEEKLY INCOME OF THE FAMILY. | WEEKLY EXPENDITURE OF THE FAMILY. - £ _s._ _d._| £ _s._ _d._ - Nominal weekly | Rent 0 3 0 - wages of man, | Candle 0 0 3-1/2 - 16_s._ | Bread 0 2 1 - Perquisites, 2_s._ | Butter 0 0 10 - Actual weekly | Sugar 0 0 8 - wages of man 0 18 0 | Tea 0 0 10 - Nominal weekly | Coffee 0 0 4 - wages of wife, | Butcher’s meat 0 3 6 - 6_s._ | Bacon 0 1 2 - Perquisites in | Potatoes 0 0 10 - coal and wood, | Raw fish 0 0 4 - 1_s._ 4_d._ | Herrings 0 0 4 - Actual weekly | Beer (at home) 0 2 0 - wages of wife. 0 7 4 | „ (at work) 0 1 6 - Nominal weekly | Spirits 0 1 0 - wages of boy. 0 3 0 | Cheese 0 0 6 - ----------- | Flour 0 0 3 - 1 8 4 | Suet 0 0 3 - | Fruit 0 0 3 - | Rice 0 0 0-1/2 - | Soap 0 0 6 - | Starch 0 0 0-1/2 - | Soda and blue 0 0 1 - | Dubbing 0 0 0-1/2 - | Clothes for the - | whole family, - | and repairing - | ditto 0 2 0 - | Boots and shoes - | for ditto, ditto 0 1 6 - | Milk 0 0 7 - | Salt, pepper, and - | mustard 0 0 1 - | Tobacco 0 0 9 - | Wear and tear of - | bedding, crocks, - | &c. 0 0 3 - | Schooling for - | girl 0 0 3 - | Baking Sunday’s - | dinner 0 0 2 - | Mangling 0 0 3 - | Amusements and - | sundries 0 1 0 - | -------------- - | 1 7 6 - -The subjoined, on the other hand, gives the income and outlay of a -_casually employed_ operative scavager (_better paid_) with his wife -and two boys in constant work:-- - - WEEKLY INCOME OF THE FAMILY. | WEEKLY EXPENDITURE OF THE FAMILY. - £ _s._ _d._ | £ _s._ _d._ - Nominal wages | Rent 0 3 6 - of man at scavaging | Candle 0 0 6 - for six | Soap 0 0 4 - months, at 16_s._ | Soda, starch, and - weekly. | blue 0 0 2-1/2 - Ditto at rubbish | Bread 0 2 6 - carting three | Butter 0 0 9 - months, 12_s._ | Dripping 0 0 5 - weekly. | Sugar 0 0 8 - Average casual | Tea 0 0 8 - wages throughout | Coffee 0 0 6 - the year 0 15 0 | Butcher’s meat 0 3 6 - Nominal weekly | Bacon 0 1 0 - wages of wife, | Potatoes 0 1 0 - 6_s._ (constant). | Cheese 0 0 6 - Perquisites in | Raw fish 0 0 4 - wood and coal, | Herrings 0 0 3 - 1_s._ 4_d._ | Fried fish 0 0 3 - Actual weekly | Flour 0 0 3 - wages of wife 0 7 4 | Suet 0 0 2 - Nominal weekly | Fruit 0 0 6 - wages of two | Rice 0 0 1-1/2 - boys, 7_s._ the | Beer (at home) 0 2 0 - two. | „ (at work) 0 1 9 - Perquisites for | Spirits 0 1 0 - running on | Tobacco 0 0 9 - messages, 1_s._ | Pepper, salt, and - the two | mustard 0 0 1 - (constant). | Milk 0 0 7 - Actual weekly | Clothes for man, - wages of the | wife, and family 0 2 0 - two boys. 0 8 0 | Repairing ditto - ----------- | for ditto 0 0 6 - 1 10 4 | Boots and shoes - | for ditto 0 1 6 - | Repairing ditto - | for ditto 0 0 8 - | Wear and tear of - | bedding, crocks, - | &c. 0 0 3 - | Baking Sunday’s - | dinner 0 0 2 - | Mangling 0 0 2 - | Amusements, - | sundries, &c. 0 1 0 - | --------------- - | 1 10 4 - - -OF THE WORSE PAID SCAVAGERS, OR THOSE WORKING FOR SCURF[18] EMPLOYERS. - -There are in the scavagers’ trade the same distinct classes of -employers as appertain to all other trades; these consist of:-- - - 1. The large capitalists. - 2. The small capitalists. - -As a rule (with some few honourable and dishonourable exceptions, -it is true) I find that the large capitalists in the several trades -are generally the employers who pay the higher wages, and the small -men those who pay the lower. The reasons for this conduct are almost -obvious. The power of the capital of the “large master” must be -contended against by the small one; and the usual mode of contention -in all trades is by reducing the wages of the working men. The wealthy -master has, of course, many advantages over the poor one. (1) He can -pay ready money, and obtain discounts for immediate payment. (2) He -can buy in large quantities, and so get his stock cheaper. (3) He can -purchase what he wants in the best markets, and that _directly_ of the -producer, without the intervention and profit of the middleman. (4) He -can buy at the best times and seasons; and “lay in” what he requires -for the purposes of his trade long before it is needed, provided -he can obtain it “a bargain.” (5) He can avail himself of the best -tools and mechanical contrivances for increasing the productiveness -or “economizing the labour” of his workmen. (6) He can build and -arrange his places of work upon the most approved plan and in the best -situations for the manufacture and distribution of the commodities. -(7) He can employ the highest talent for the management or design of -the work on which he is engaged. (8) He can institute a more effective -system for the surveillance and checking of his workmen. (9) He can -employ a large number of hands, and so reduce the secondary expenses -(of firing, lighting, &c.) attendant upon the work, as well as the -number of superintendents and others engaged to “look after” the -operatives. (10) He can resort to extensive means of making his trade -known. (11) He can sell cheaper (even if his cost of production be the -same), from employing a larger capital, and being able to “do with” a -less rate of profit. (12) He can afford to give credit, and so obtain -customers that he might otherwise lose. - -The small capitalist, therefore, enters the field of competition by no -means equally matched against his more wealthy rival. What the little -master wants in “substance,” however, he generally endeavours to make -up in cunning. If he cannot buy his materials as cheap as a trader of -larger means, he uses an inferior or cheaper article, and seeks by -some trick or other to palm it off as equal to the superior and dearer -kind. If the tools and appliances of the trade are expensive, he either -transfers the cost of providing them to the workmen, or else he charges -them a rent for their use; and so with the places of work, he mulcts -their wages of a certain sum per week for the gas by which they labour, -or he makes them do their work at home, and thus saves the expense of -a workshop; and, lastly, he pays his men either a less sum than usual -for the same quantity of labour, or exacts a greater quantity from them -for the same sum of money. By one or other of these means does the man -of limited capital seek to counterbalance the advantages which his more -wealthy rival obtains by the possession of extensive “resources.” The -large employer is enabled to work cheaper by the sheer force of his -larger capital. He reduces the cost of production, not by employing a -cheaper labour, but by “economizing the labour” that he does employ. -The small employer, on the other hand, seeks to keep pace with his -larger rival, and strives to work cheap, not by “the economy of labour” -(for this is hardly possible in the small way of production), but by -reducing the wages of his labourers. Hence the _rule_ in almost every -trade is that the smaller capitalists pay a lower rate of wages. To -this, however, there are many honourable exceptions among the small -masters, and many as dishonourable among the larger ones in different -trades. Messrs. Moses, Nicoll, and Hyams, for instance, are men who -certainly cannot plead deficiency of means as an excuse for reducing -the ordinary rate of wages among the tailors. - -Those employers who seek to reduce the prices of a trade are known -technologically as “_cutting employers_,” in contradistinction to the -standard employers, or those who pay their workpeople and sell their -goods at the ordinary rates. - -Of “cutting employers” there are several kinds, differently designated, -according to the different means by which they gain their ends. These -are:-- - -1. “_Drivers_,” or those who compel the men in their employ to do -more work for the same wages; of this kind there are two distinct -varieties:-- - - _a._ _The long-hour masters_, or those who make the men work longer - than the usual hours of labour. - - _b._ _The strapping masters_, or those who make the men (by extra - supervision) “strap” to their work, so as to do a greater quantity of - labour in the usual time. - -2. _Grinders_, or those who compel the workmen (through their -necessities) to do the same amount of work for less than the ordinary -wages. - -The reduction of wages thus brought about may or may not be attended -with a corresponding reduction in the price of the goods to the public; -if the price of the goods be reduced in proportion to the reduction -of wages, the consumer, of course, is benefited at the expense of -the producer. When it is not followed by a like diminution in the -selling price of the article, and the wages of which the men are mulct -go to increase the profits of the capitalist, the employer alone is -benefited, and is then known as a “_grasper_.” - -Some cutting tradesmen, however, endeavour to undersell their more -wealthy rivals, by reducing the ordinary rate of profit, and extending -their business on the principle of small profits and quick returns, -the “nimble ninepence” being considered “better than the slow -shilling.” Such traders, of course, cannot be said to reduce wages -directly--indirectly, however, they have the same effect, for in -reducing prices, other traders, ever ready to compete with them, but, -unwilling, or perhaps unable, to accept less than the ordinary rate of -profit, seek to attain the same cheapness by diminishing the cost of -production, and for this end the labourers’ wages are almost invariably -reduced. - -Such are the characteristics of the cheap employers in all trades. Let -me now proceed to point out the peculiarities of what are called the -scurf employers in the scavaging trade. - -The insidious practices of capitalists in other callings, in reducing -the hire of labour, are not unknown to the scavagers. The evils of -which these workmen have to complain under scurf or slop masters are:-- - -1. _Driving_, or being compelled to do more work for the _same pay_. - -2. _Grinding_, or being compelled to do the same or a greater amount of -work for _less pay_. - -1. Under the first head, if the employment be at all regular, I heard -few complaints, for the men seemed to have learned to look upon it as -an inevitable thing, that one way or other they _must_ submit, by the -receipt of a reduced wage, or the exercise of a greater toil, to a -deterioration in their means. - -The system of driving, or, in other words, the means by which extra -work is got out of the men for the same remuneration, in the scavagers’ -trade is as follows:--some employers cause their scavagers after their -day’s work in the streets, to load the barges with the street and -house-collected manure, without any additional payment; whereas, among -the more liberal employers, there are bargemen who are employed to -attend to this department of the trade, and if their street scavagers -_are_ so employed, which is not very often, it is computed as extra -work or “over hours,” and paid for accordingly. This same indirect mode -of reducing wages (by getting more work done for the same pay) is seen -in many piece-work callings. The slop boot and shoe makers pay the same -price as they did six or seven years ago, but they have “knocked off -the extras,” as the additional allowance for greater than the ordinary -height of heel, and the like. So the slop Mayor of Manchester, Sir -Elkanah Armitage, within the last year or two, sought to obtain from -his men a greater length of “cut” to each piece of woven for the same -wages. - -Some master scavagers or contractors, moreover, reduce wages by making -their men do what is considered the work of “a man and a half” in a -week, without the recompense due for the labour of the “half” man’s -work; in other words, they require the men to condense eight or nine -days’ labour into six, and to be paid for the six days only; this again -is usual in the strapping shops of the carpenters’ trade. - -Thus the class of street-sweepers do not differ materially in the -circumstances of their position from other bodies of workers skilled -and unskilled. - -Let me, however, give a practical illustration of the loss accruing to -the working scavagers by the _driving_ method of reducing wages. - -A is a large contractor and a driver. He employs 16 men, and pays them -the “regular wages” of the honourable trade; but, instead of limiting -the hours of labour to 12, as is usual among the better class of -employers, he compels each of his men to work at the least 16 hours per -diem, which is one-third more, and for which the men should receive -one-third more wages. Let us see, therefore, how much the men in his -employ lose annually by these means. - - ---------------------------+--------------+-----------+----------- - | Sum received | Sum they | - | per | should | - | Annum. | receive. |Difference. - ---------------------------+--------------+-----------+----------- - 4 Gangers, at 18_s._ a } | £ _s._ | £ _s._ | £ _s._ - week, for 9 months } | 140 8 | 210 12 | 70 4 - in the year } | | | - 12 Sweepers, at 16_s._ a } | | | - week, for 9 months } | 374 8 | 499 4 | 124 16 - in the year } | | | - ---------------------------+--------------+-----------+----------- - Total wages per Ann. | 514 16 | 709 16 | 195 0 - -Here, then, we find the annual loss to these men through the system of -“driving” to be 195_l._ per annum. - -But A is not the only driver in the scavagers’ trade; out of the 19 -masters having contracts for scavaging, as cited in the table given at -pp. 213, 214, there are 4 who are regular drivers; and, making the same -calculation as above, we have the following results:-- - - -------------------------+-------------+-----------+----------- - |Sum received | Sum they | - | per | should |Difference. - | Annum. | receive. | - -------------------------+-------------+-----------+----------- - 26 Gangers, at 18_s._ a }| £ _s._ | £ _s._| £ _s._ - week, for 9 months }| 912 12 | 1216 16 | 304 4 - in the year }| | | - 80 Sweepers, at 16_s._ a}| | | - week, for 9 months }| 2496 0 | 3328 0 | 832 0 - in the year }| | | - -------------------------+-------------+-----------+----------- - | 3308 12 | 4544 16 | 1136 4 - -------------------------+-------------+-----------+----------- - -Thus we find that the gross sum of which the men employed by these -drivers are deprived, is no less than 1136_l._ per annum. - -2. The second or indirect mode of reducing the wages of the men in the -scavaging trade is by _Grinding_; that is to say, by making the men -do the same amount of work for less pay. It requires nothing but a -practical illustration to render the injury of this particular mode of -reduction apparent to the public. - -B is a master scavager (a small contractor, though the instances are -not confined to this class), and a “_Grinder_.” He pays 1_s._ a week -less than the “regular wages” of the honourable trade. He employs six -men; hence the amount that the workmen in his pay are mulct of every -year is as follows:-- - - -------------------------+-------------+-----------+----------- - |Sum received | Sum they | - | per | should |Difference. - | Annum. | receive. | - -------------------------+-------------+-----------+----------- - 6 men, at 15_s._ a week,}| £ _s._ | £ _s._ | £ _s._ - for 9 months in the }| 175 10 | 187 4 | 11 14 - year }| | | - -------------------------+-------------+-----------+----------- - -Here the loss to the men is 11_l._ 14_s._ per annum, and there is but -one such grinder among the 19 master scavagers who have contracts at -present. - -3. The third and last method of reducing the earnings of the men as -above enumerated, is by a combination of both the systems before -explained, viz., by _grinding_ and _driving_ united, that is to say, -by not only paying the men a smaller wage than the more honourable -masters, but by compelling them to work longer hours as well. Let me -cite another illustration from the trade. - -C is a large contractor, and both a grinder and driver. He employs -28 men, and not only pays them less wages, but makes them work -longer hours than the better class of employers. The men in his pay, -therefore, are annually mulct of the following sums. - - SUMS THE MEN RECEIVE. | SUMS THEY SHOULD RECEIVE. - £ _s._ _d._| £ _s._ _d._ - | - 7 Gangers, at 16_s._ | 7 Gangers, at 18_s._ - a week, for 9 | a week, for 9 - months in the | months in the - year 218 8 0 | year 245 14 0 - 21 Sweepers, at | Over work, 4 - 15_s._ a week 614 5 0 | hours per day 61 8 6 - ------------- | 21 Sweepers, at - 832 13 0 | 16_s._ a week, 12 - | hours a day 655 4 0 - | Over work, 4 - | hours a day 163 6 0 - | -------------- - | 1125 12 6 - -Here the annual loss to the men employed by this one master is 292_l._ -19_s._ 6_d._ - -Among the 19 master scavagers there are altogether 7 employers who -are both grinders and drivers. These employ among them no less than -111 hands; hence, the gross amount of which their workmen are yearly -defrau--no, let me adhere to the principles of political economy, and -say deprived--is as under:-- - - SUM THE MEN ANNUALLY RECEIVE. | SUM THEY SHOULD ANNUALLY RECEIVE. - £ _s._ _d._| £ _s._ _d._ - 28 Gangers, at 16_s._ | 28 Gangers, at - a week, employed | 18_s._ a week - for 9 months | (12 hours a - in the year 873 12 0 | day), for 9 - | months in the - 83 Sweepers, at | year 982 16 0 - 15_s._ a week, | Over work, 4 - employed for | hours per day 245 14 0 - 9 months in | 83 Sweepers, at - the year 2427 15 0 | 16_s._ a week, - -------------- | 12 hours a day 2589 12 0 - 3301 7 0 | Over work, 4 - | hours per day 647 8 0 - | -------------- - | 4465 10 0 - -Here we perceive the gross loss to the operatives from the system of -combined grinding and driving to be no less than 1164_l._ 3_s._ per -annum. - -Now let us see what is the aggregate loss to the working men from the -several modes of reducing their wages as above detailed. - - £. _s._ _d._ - Loss to the working scavagers by the “driving” of employers 1136 4 0 - Ditto by the “grinding” 11 14 0 - Ditto by the “grinding _and_ driving” of employers 1164 3 0 - -------------- - Total loss to the working scavagers per annum 2312 1 0 - -Now this is a large sum of money to be wrested annually out of the -workmen--that it is so wrested is demonstrated by the fact cited at p. -174 in connection with the dust trade. - -The wages of the dustmen employed by the large contractors, it is there -stated, have been increased within the last seven years from 6_d._ to -8_d._ per load. This increase in the rate of remuneration was owing to -complaints made by the men to the Commissioners of Sewers, that they -were not able to live on their earnings; an inquiry took place, and the -result was that the Commissioners decided upon letting the contracts -only to such parties as would undertake to pay a fair price to their -workmen. The contractors accordingly increased the remuneration of the -labourers as mentioned. - -Now political economy would tell us that the Commissioners _interfered_ -with wages in a most reprehensible manner--preventing the natural -operation of the law of Supply and Demand; but both justice and -benevolence assure us that the Commissioners did perfectly right. The -masters in the dust trade were forced to make good to the men what they -had previously taken from them, and the same should be done in the -scavaging trade--the contracts should be let only to these masters who -will undertake to pay the regular rate of wages, and employ their men -only the regular hours; for by such means, and by such means alone, can -_justice_ be done to the operatives. - -This brings me to the _cause of the reduction of wages in the scavaging -trade_. The scurf trade, I am informed, has been carried on among -the master scavagers upwards of 20 years, and arose partly from the -contractors having _to pay_ the parishes for the house-dust and -street-sweepings, brieze and street manure at that period often selling -for 30_s._ the chaldron or load. The demand for this kind of manure -20 years ago was so great, that there was a competition carried on -among the contractors themselves, each out-bidding the other, so as to -obtain the right of collecting it; and in order not to lose anything -by the large sums which they were induced to bid for the contracts, -the employers began gradually to “grind down” their men from 17_s._ -6_d._ (the sum paid 20 years back) to 17_s._ a week, and eventually -to 15_s._, and even 12_s._ weekly. This is a curious and instructive -fact, as showing that even an increase of prices will, _under the -contract system_, induce a reduction of wages. The greed of traders -becomes, it appears, from the very height of the prices, proportionally -intensified, and from the desire of each to reap the benefit, they are -led to outbid one another to such an extent, and to offer such large -premiums for the right of appropriation, as to necessitate a reduction -of every possible expense in order to make any profit at all upon the -transaction. Owing, moreover, to the surplus labour in the trade, the -contractors were enabled to offer any premiums and reduce wages as they -pleased; for the casually-employed men, when the wet season was over, -and their services no longer required, were continually calling upon -the contractors, and offering their services at 2_s._ and 3_s._ less -per week than the regular hands were receiving. The consequence was, -that five or six of the master scavagers began to reduce the wages of -their labourers, and since that time the number has been gradually -increasing, until now there are no less than 21 scurf masters (8 of -whom have no contracts) out of the 34 contractors; so that nearly -three-fifths of the entire trade belong to the _grinding_ class. Within -the last seven or eight years, however, there has been an increase of -wages in connection with the city operative scavagers. This was owing -mainly to the operatives complaining to the Commissioners that they -could not live upon the wages they were then receiving--12_s._ and -14_s._ a week. The circumstances inducing the change, I am informed, -were as follows:--one of the gangers asked a tradesman in the city to -give the street-sweepers “something for beer,” whereupon the tradesman -inquired if the men could not find beer out of their wages, and on -being assured that they were receiving only 12_s._ a week, he had the -matter brought before the Board. The result was, that the wages of the -operatives were increased from 12_s._ to 15_s._ and 16_s._ weekly, -since which time there has been neither an increase nor a decrease -in their pay. The cheapness of provisions seems to have caused no -reduction with them. - -Now there are but two “efficient causes” to account for the reduction -of wages among the scurf employers in the scavagers’ trade:--(1) The -employers may diminish the pay of their men from a disposition to -“_grind_” out of them an inordinate rate of profit. (2) The price paid -for the work may be so reduced that, consistent with the ordinary rate -of profit on capital, and remuneration for superintendence, greater -wages cannot be paid. If the first be the fact, then the employers -are to blame, and the parishes should follow the example of the -Commissioners of Sewers, and let the work to those contractors only who -will undertake to pay the “regular wages” of the honourable trade; but -if the latter be the case, as I strongly suspect it is, though some -of the masters seem to be more “grasping” than the rest--but in the -paucity of returns on this matter, it is difficult to state positively -whether the price paid for the labour of the working scavager is in all -the parishes proportional to the price paid to the employers for the -work (a most important fact to be solved)--if, however, I repeat, the -decrease of the wages be mainly due to the decrease in the sums given -for the performance of the contract, then the parishes are to blame for -seeking to get their work done _at the expense of the working men_. - -The contract system of work, I find, necessarily tends to this -diminution of the men’s earnings in a trade. Offer a certain quantity -of work to the lowest bidder, and the competition will assuredly be -maintained at _the operative’s expense_. It is idle to expect that, -as a general rule, traders will take less than the ordinary rate of -profit. Hence, he who underbids will usually be found to underpay. -This, indeed, is almost a necessity of the system, and one which -the parochial functionaries more than all others should be guarded -against--seeing that a decrease of the operative’s wages can but be -attended with an increase of the very paupers, and consequently of the -parochial expenses, which they are striving to reduce. - -A labourer, in order to be self-supporting and avoid becoming -a “burden” on the parish, requires something more than bare -subsistence-money in remuneration for his labour, and yet this is -generally the mode by which we test the _sufficiency of wages_. “A man -can live very comfortably upon that!” is the exclamation of those who -have seldom thought upon what constitutes the _minimum_ of self-support -in this country. A man’s wages, to prevent pauperism, should include, -besides present subsistence, what Dr. Chalmers has called “his -secondaries;” viz., a sufficiency to pay for his maintenance: 1st, -during the slack season; 2nd, when out of employment; 3rd, when ill; -4th, when old[19]. If insufficient to do this, it is evident that -the man at such times must seek parochial relief; and it is by the -reduction of wages down to bare subsistence, that the cheap employers -of the present day shift the burden of supporting their labourers when -unemployed on to the parish; thus virtually perpetuating the allowance -system or relief in aid of wages under the old Poor Law. Formerly the -mode of hiring labourers was by the year, so that the employer was -bound to maintain the men when unemployed. But now journey-work, or -hiring by the day, prevails, and the labourers being paid--and that -mere subsistence-money--only when wanted, are necessitated to become -either paupers or thieves when their services are no longer required. -It is, moreover, this change from yearly to daily hirings, and the -consequent discarding of men when no longer required, that has partly -caused the immense mass of surplus labourers, who are continually -vagabondizing through the country begging or stealing as they go--men -for whom there is but some two or three weeks’ work (harvesting, -hop-picking, and the like) throughout the year. - -That there is, however, a large system of _jobbing pursued by the -contractors_ for the house-dust and cleansing of the streets, there -cannot be the least doubt. The minute I have cited at page 210 gives -us a slight insight into the system of combination existing among the -employers, and the extraordinary fluctuations in the prices obtained by -the contractors would lead to the notion that the business was more a -system of gambling than trade. The following returns have been procured -by Mr. Cochrane within the last few days:-- - - “Average yearly cost of cleansing - the whole of the public ways within - the City of London, including the removal - of dust, ashes, &c., from the - houses of the inhabitants, for eight - years, terminating at Michaelmas in - the year 1850 £4,643 - - Square yards of carriage-way, estimated - at 430,000 - - Square yards of footway, estimated - at 300,000 - -A more specific and later return is as follows:-- - - Received Paid for - for Dust. cleansing, &c. - £ _s._ _d._ £ _s._ _d._ { Streets not - 1845 0 0 0 2833 2 0 { cleansed - { daily. - 1846 1354 5 0 6034 6 0 } - 1847 4455 5 0 8014 2 0 } Streets - 1848 1328 15 0 7226 1 6 } cleansed - 1849 0 0 0 7486 11 6 } daily. - 1850 0 0 0 6779 16 0 } - -“From the above return,” says Mr. Cochrane, “it may be _inferred_ that -the annual sums paid for cleansing in each year of 1844 and 1843 did -not exceed 2281_l._, as this would make up the eight years’ average -calculation of 4643_l._” - -Since the streets have been cleansed daily, it will be seen that the -average has been 7188_l._ The smallest amount, in 1846, was 6034_l._; -and the largest, in 1847, 8014_l._; which was a sudden increase of -1980_l._ - -Here, then, we perceive an immediate increase in the price paid for -scavaging between 1846 and 1847 of nearly 33 per cent., and since the -wages of the workmen were not proportionately increased in the latter -year by the employers, it follows that the profits of the contractors -must have been augmented to that enormous extent. The only effectual -mode of preventing this system of jobbing being persevered in, _at -the expense of the workmen_, is by the insertion of a clause in each -parish contract similar to that introduced by the Commissioners of -Sewers--that at least a fair living rate of wages shall be paid by each -contractor to the men employed by him. This may be an interference with -the freedom of labour, according to the economists’ “cant” language, -but at least it is a restriction of the tyranny of capital, for free -labour means, when literally translated, _the unrestricted use of -capital_, which is (especially when the moral standard of trade is not -of the highest character) perhaps the greatest evil with which a State -can be afflicted. - - * * * * * - -Let me now speak of the _Scurf labourers_. The moral and social -characteristics of the working scavagers who labour for a lower rate of -hire do not materially differ from those of the better paid and more -regularly employed body, unless, perhaps, in this respect, that there -are among them a greater proportion of the “casuals,” or of men reared -to the pursuit of other callings, and driven by want, misfortune, or -misconduct, to “sweep the streets;” and not only that, but to regard -the “leave to toil” in such a capacity a boon. These constitute, as it -were, the cheap labourers of this trade. - -Among the parties concerned in the lower-priced scavaging, are the -usual criminations. The parish authorities will not put up any longer -with the extortions of the contractors. The contractors cannot put -up any longer with the stinginess of the parishes. The _working_ -scavagers, upon whose shoulders the burthen falls the heaviest--as -it does in all depreciated tradings--grumble at both. I cannot aver, -however, that I found among the men that bitter hatred of their masters -which I found actuating the mass of operative tailors, shoemakers, -dressmakers, &c., toward the slop capitalists who employed them. - -I have pointed out in what the “scurf” treatment of the labourers was -chiefly manifested--in extra work for inferior pay; in doing eight or -nine days’ work in six; and in being paid for only six days’ labour, -and not always at the ordinary rate even for the lighter toil--not -2_s._ 8_d._, but 2_s._ 6_d._ or even 2_s._ 4_d._ a day. To the wealthy, -this 2_d._ or 4_d._ a day may seem but a trifling matter, but I heard a -working scavager (formerly a house-painter) put it in a strong light: -“that 3_d._ or 4_d._ a day, sir, is a poor family’s rent.” The rent, I -may observe, as a result of my inquiries among the more decent classes -of labourers, is often the primary consideration: “You see, sir, we -must have a roof over our heads.” - -A scavager, working for a scurf master, gave me the following account. -He was a middle-aged man, decently dressed, for when I saw him, he was -in his “Sunday clothes,” and was quiet in his tones, even when he spoke -bitterly. - -“My father,” he said, “was once in business as a butcher, but he -failed, and was afterwards a journeyman butcher, but very much -respected, I know, and I used to job and help him. O dear, yes! I can -read and write, but I have very seldom to write, only I think one -never forgets it, it’s like learning to swim, that way; and I read -sometimes at coffee-shops. My father died rather sudden, and me and a -brother had to look out. My brother was older than me, he was 20 or -21 then, and he went for a soldier, I believe to some of the Ingees, -but I’ve never heard of him since. I got a place in a knacker’s yard, -but I didn’t like it at all, _it was so confining_, and should have -hooked it, only I left it honourable. I can’t call to mind how long -that’s back, perhaps 16 or 18 years, but I know there was some stir -at the time about having the streets and yards cleaner. A man called -and had some talk with the governor, and says he, says the governor, -says he, ‘if you want a handy lad with his besom, and he’s good for -nothing else’--but that was his gammon--‘here’s your man;’ so I was -engaged as a young sweeper at 10_s._ a week. I worked in Hackney, but I -heard so much about railways, that I saved my money up to 10_s._, and -popped [pledged] a suit of mourning I’d got after my father’s death for -22_s._, and got to York, both on foot and with lifts. I soon got work -on a rail; there was great call for rails then, but I don’t know how -long it’s since, and I was a navvy for six or seven years, or better. -Then I came back to London. I don’t know just what made me come back, -_but I was restless_, and I thought I could get work as easy in London -as in the country, but I couldn’t. I brought 21 gold sovereigns with -me to London, twisted in my fob for safeness, in a wash-leather bag. -They didn’t last so long as they ought to. I didn’t care for drinking, -only when I was in company, but I was a little too gay. One night I -spent over 12_s._ in the St. Helena Gardens at Rotherhithe, and that -sort of thing soon makes money show taper. I got some work with a -rubbish carter, a regular scurf. I made only about 8_s._ a week under -him, for he didn’t want me this half day or that whole day, and if I -said anything, he told me I might go and be d----d, he could get plenty -such, and I knew he could. I got on then with a gangsman I knew, at -street-sweeping. I had 15_s._ a week, but not regular work, but when -the work wer’n’t regular, I had 2_s._ 8_d._ a day. I then worked under -another master for 14_s._ a week, and was often abused that I wasn’t -better dressed, for though that there master paid low wages, he was -vexed if his men didn’t look decent in the streets. I’ve heard that -he said he paid the best of wages when asked about it. I had another -job after that, at 15_s._, and then 16_s._ a week, with a contractor -as had a wharf; but a black nigger slave was never slaved as I was. -I’ve worked all night, when it’s been very moonlight, in loading a -barge, and I’ve worked until three and four in the morning that way, -and then me and another man slept an hour or two in a shed as joined -his stables, and then must go at it again. Some of these masters is -ignorant, and treats men like dirt, but this one was always civil, and -made his people be civil. But, Lord, I hadn’t a rag left to my back. -Everything was worn to bits in such hard work, and then I got the sack. -I was on for Mr. ---- next. He’s a jolly good ’un. I was only on for -him temp’ry, but I was told it was for temp’ry when I went, so I can’t -complain. I’m out of work this week, but I’ve had some jobs from a -butcher, and I’m going to work again on Monday. I don’t know at what -wages. The gangsmen said they’d see what I could do. It’ll be 15_s._, I -expect, and over-work if it’s 16_s._ - -“Yes, I like a pint of beer now and then, and one requires it, but I -don’t get drunk. I dusted for a fortnight once while a man was ill, and -got more beer and twopences give me than I do in a year now; aye, twice -as much. My mate and me was always very civil, and people has said, -‘there’s a good fellow, just sweep together this bit of rubbish in the -yard here, and off with it.’ That was beyond our duty, but we did it. I -have very little night-work, only for one master; he’s a sweep as well. -I get 2_s._ 6_d._ a job for it. Yes, there’s mostly something to drink, -but you can’t demand nothing. Night-work’s nothing, sir; no more ain’t -a knacker’s yard. - -“I pay 2_s._ a week rent, but I’m washed for and found soap as well. -My landlady takes in washing, and when her husband, for they’re an old -couple, has the rheumatics, I make a trifle by carrying out the clothes -on a barrow, and Mrs. Smith goes with them and sees to the delivery. -I’ve my own furniture. - -“Well, I don’t know what I spend in my living in a week. I have a bit -of meat, or a saveloy or two, or a slice of bacon every day, mostly -when I’m at work. I sometimes make my own meals ready in my room. No, -I keep no accounts. There’d be very little use or pleasure in doing it -when one has so little to count. When I’m past work, I suppose I must -go to the workhouse. I sometimes wish I’d gone for a soldier when I was -young enough. I shouldn’t have minded going abroad. I’d have liked it -better than not, for _I like to be about; yes, I like a change_. - -“I go to chapel every Sunday night, and have regularly since Mr. ---- -(the butcher) gave me this cast-off suit. I promised him I would when I -got the togs. - -“Things would be well enough with me if I’d constant work and fair -pay. I don’t know what makes wages so low. I suppose it’s rich people -trying to get all the money they can, and caring nothing for poor men’s -rights, and poor men’s sometimes forced to undersell one another, -’cause half a loaf you know, sir, is better than no bread at all” (a -proverb, by the way, which has wrought no little mischief). - -In conclusion, I may remark, that although I was told, in the first -instance, there was sub-letting in street sweeping, I could not hear -of any facts to prove it. I was told, indeed, by a gentleman who took -great interest in parochial matters, with a view to “reforms” in them, -that such a thing was most improbable, for if a contractor sub-let any -of his work it would soon become known, and as it would be evident that -the work could be accomplished at a lower rate, the contractor would be -in a worse position for his next contract. - - -OF THE STREET-SWEEPING MACHINE, AND THE STREET-SWEEPERS EMPLOYED WITH -IT. - -Until the introduction of the machines now seen in London, I believe -that no mechanical contrivances for sweeping the streets had been -attempted, all such work being executed by manual labour, and employing -throughout the United Kingdom a great number of the poor. The -street-sweeping machine, therefore, assumes an importance as another -instance of the displacement, or attempted displacement, of the labour -of man by the mechanism of an engine. - -The street-sweeping machines were introduced into London about five -years ago, after having been previously used, under the management -of a company, in Manchester, the inventor and maker being Mr. -Whitworth, of that place. The novelty and ingenuity of the apparatus -soon attracted public attention, and for the first week or two the -vehicular street-sweeper was accompanied in its progress by a crowd -of admiring and inquisitive pedestrians, so easily attracted together -in the metropolis. In the first instance the machines were driven -through the streets merely to display their mode and power of work, -and the drivers and attendants not unfrequently came into contact -with the regular scavagers, when a brisk interchange of street wit -took place, the populace often enough encouraging both sides. At -present the street-sweeping machine proceeds on its line of operation -as little noticed, except by visitors, and foreigners especially, as -any other vehicle. The body of the sweeping machine, although the -sizes may not all be uniform, is about 5 feet in length, and 2 feet -8 inches or 3 feet in width; the height is about 5 feet 6 inches or -6 feet, and the form that of a covered cart, with a rounded top. The -sides of the exterior are of cast iron, the top being of wood. At the -hinder part of the cart is fixed the sweeping-machine itself, covered -by sloping boards which descend from the top of the cart, projecting -slightly behind the vehicle to the ground; under the sloping boards is -an endless chain of brushes as wide as the cart, 16 in number, placed -at equal distances, and so arranged, that when made to revolve, each -brush in turn passes over the ground, sweeping the mud along with it -to the bottom sloping board, and so carrying it up to the interior of -the cart. The chain of brushes is set in motion, over the surface of -the pavement, by the agency of three cog wheels of cast iron; these are -worked by the rotation of the wheels of the cart, the cogs acting upon -the spindles to which the brooms are attached. The spindles, brushes, -and the sloped boards can be raised or lowered by the winding of an -instrument called the broom winder; or the whole can be locked. The -brooms are raised when any acclivity is to be swept, and lowered at -a declivity. The vehicle must be water-tight, in order to contain the -slop. - -When full the machine holds about half a cart load or half a ton of -dirt; this is emptied by letting down the back in the manner of a trap -door. If the contents be solid, they have to be forked out; if more -sloppy, they are “shot” out, as from a cart, the interior generally -being roughly scraped to complete the emptying. - -The districts which have as yet been cleansed by the machines are what -may be considered a government domain, being the public thoroughfares -under the control of the Commissioners of the Woods and Forests, -running from Westminster Abbey to the Regent-circus in Piccadilly, -and including Spring-gardens, Carlton-gardens, and a portion of the -West Strand, where they were first employed in London; they have been -used also in parts of the City; and are at present employed by the -parish of St. Martin-in-the-Fields. The company by whom the mechanical -street-sweeping business is carried on employ 12 machines, 4 water -carts, 19 horses, and 24 men. They have also the use, but not the sole -use, of two wharfs and barges at Whitefriars and Millbank. The machines -altogether collect about 30 cart-loads of street-dirt a day, which is -equivalent to four or five barge-loads in a week, if all were boated. -Two barges per week are usually sent to Rochester, the others up the -river to Fulham, &c. The average price is 5_l._ 10_s._ to 6_l._ per -barge load, but when the freight has been chiefly dung, as much as -8_l._ has been paid for it by a farmer. - -The street-sweeping machine seems to have commanded the approbation -of the General Board of Health, although the Board’s expression of -approval is not without qualification. “Even that efficient and -economical implement,” says one of the Reports, “the street-sweeping -machine, leaves much filth between the interstices of the stones -and some on the surface.” One might have imagined, however, that an -efficient and economical implement would not have left this “much -filth” in its course; but the Board, I presume, spoke comparatively. - -The reason of the circumscribed adoption of the machine--I say it with -some reluctance, but from concurrent testimony--appears to be that it -does _not_ sweep sufficiently clean. It sweeps the surface, but only -the surface; not cleansing what the scavagers call the “nicks” and -“holes,” and the Board of Health the “interstices,” in the pavement. - -One man is obliged to go along with each machine, to sweep the ridge -of dirt invariably left at the edge of the track of the vehicle into -the line of the next machine, so that it may be “licked up.” In fine -weather this work is often light enough. It is also the occupation -of the accompanying scavager to sweep the dirt from the sloping -edges of the public ways into the direct course of the machine, for -the brushes are of no service along such slopes; he must also sweep -out the contents of any hole or hollow there may be in the streets, -as is frequently the case when the pavement has been disturbed in -the relaying or repairing of the gas or water pipes. But for this -arrangement, I was told, the brushes would pass “clean over” such -places, or only disturb without clearing away the dirt. Indeed -irregularities of any kind in the pavement are great obstructions to -the efficiency of the street-sweeping machine. - -There are some places, moreover, wholly unsweepable by the machine; in -many parts of St. Martin’s parish, for instance, there are localities -where the machine cannot be introduced; such are--St. Martin’s-court; -the flagged ways about the National Gallery; and the approach, -alongside the church, to the Lowther Arcade; the pavement surrounding -the fountains which adorn the “noblest site in Europe;” and a variety -of alleys, passages, yards, and minor streets, which must be cleansed -by manual labour. - -In fair weather, again, water carts are indispensable before machine -sweeping, for if the ground be merely dry and dusty, the set of brooms -will not “bite.” - -We now come to estimate the _relative values of the mechanical and -manual labour applied to the scavaging of the streets_. The average -progress of the street-sweeping machine, in the execution of the -scavagers’ work, is about two miles an hour. It must not be supposed, -however, that two streets each a mile in length, could be swept in one -hour; for to do this the vehicle would have to travel up and down those -streets as many times as the streets are wider than the machine. The -machines, sometimes two, sometimes three or four, follow alongside each -other’s tracks in sweeping a street, so as to leave no part unswept. -Thus, supposing a street half a mile long and nine yards wide, and -that each machine swept a breadth of a yard, then three such machines, -driven once up, and once again down, and once more up such a street, -would cleanse it in three quarters of an hour. To do this by manual -labour in the same or nearly the same time, would require the exertions -of five men. Each machine has been computed to have mechanical power -equal to the industry of five street-sweepers; and such, from the above -computation, would appear to be the fact. I do not include the drivers -in this enumeration, as of course the horse in the scavagers’ cart, and -in the machine require alike the care of a man, and there is to each -vehicle (whether mechanical or not) one hand (besides the carman) to -sweep after the ordinary work. Hence every two men with the machine do -the work of seven men by hand. - -Having, then, ascertained the relative values of the two forces -employed in cleansing the streets, let me now proceed to set forth -what is “the economy of labour” resulting from the use of the sweeping -machine. In the following table are given the number of men at present -engaged by the machine company in the cleansing of those districts -where the machine is in operation, as well as the annual amount of -wages paid to the machine labourers; these facts are then collocated -with the number of manual labourers that would be required to do the -same work under the ordinary contract system (assuming every two -labourers with the machine to do the work of seven labourers by hand), -as well as the amount of wages that would be paid to such manual -labourers; and finally, the number of men and amount of wages under the -one system of street-cleansing is subtracted from the other, in order -to arrive at the number of street-sweepers at present displaced by -machine labour, and the annual loss in wages to the men so displaced; -or, to speak economically, the last column represents the amount -by which the Wage Fund of the street-sweepers is diminished by the -employment of the machine. - - -TABLE SHOWING THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE NUMBER OF MEN AT PRESENT -ENGAGED IN STREET-SWEEPING BY MACHINES, AND THE NUMBER THAT WOULD BE -REQUIRED TO SWEEP THE SAME DISTRICTS BY HAND, TOGETHER WITH THE ANNUAL -AMOUNT OF WAGES ACCRUING TO EACH. - - +--------------------+----------------------------------+ - | Machine Labour. | - +----------------------------------+ - | Number | Annual Wages | - DISTRICTS. | of Men | received | - | employed to | by Machine | - | attend | Men, at 16s. | - | Machines. | a Week. | - +--------------------+------------------+---------------+ - | | £ _s._ | - St. Martin’s-in-the} | | | - Fields } | 8 | 332 16 | - | | | - Regent-street and } | | | - Pall-mall (see } | 12 | 499 4 | - table, p. 214) } | | | - | | | - Other places, } | | | - connected } | | | - with Woods } | 4 | 166 8 | - and Forests } | | | - +--------------------+------------------+---------------+ - Total | 24 | 998 8 | - +--------------------+------------------+---------------+ - - +--------------------+----------------------------------+ - | Manual Labour. | - +----------------------------------+ - | Number of | Annual | - | men that | Wages that | - DISTRICTS. | would be | would be | - | required to | received by | - | sweep the | Manual | - | Streets by | Labourers, at | - | Manual labour. | 15s. a Week. | - +--------------------+------------------+---------------+ - | | £ _s._ | - St. Martin’s-in-the} | | | - Fields } | 28 | 1092 0 | - | | | - Regent-street and } | | | - Pall-mall (see } | 42 | 1638 0 | - table, p. 214) } | | | - | | | - Other places, } | | | - connected } | | | - with Woods } | 14 | 546 0 | - and Forests } | | | - +--------------------+------------------+---------------+ - Total | 84 | 3276 0 | - +--------------------+------------------+---------------+ - - +--------------------+------------------+---------------+ - | Difference. | - +----------------------------------+ - | Number | Annual Loss | - DISTRICTS. | of | in Wages to | - | Men displaced | Manual | - | by Machine-work. | Labourers by | - | | Machine-work. | - +------------------+---------------+ - | | £ _s._ | - St. Martin’s-in-the} | | | - Fields } | 20 | 759 4 | - | | | - Regent-street and } | | | - Pall-mall (see } | 30 | 1138 16 | - table, p. 214) } | | | - | | | - Other places, } | | | - connected } | | | - with Woods } | 10 | 379 12 | - and Forests } | | | - +--------------------+------------------+---------------+ - Total | 60 | 2277 12 | - +--------------------+------------------+---------------+ - -Hence, we perceive that no less than 60 street-sweepers are deprived of -work by the street-sweeping machine, and that the gross Wage Fund of -the men is diminished by the employment of mechanical labour no less -than 2277_l._ per annum. - -But let us suppose the street-sweeping machine to come into general -use, and all the men who are at present employed by the contractors, -both large and small, to sweep the street by hand to be superseded -by it, what would be the result? how much money would the manual -labourers be deprived of per annum, and how many self-supporting -labourers would be pauperized thereby? The following table will show -us: in the first compartment given below we have the number of -manual labourers employed throughout London by the large and small -contractors, and the amount of wages annually received by them[20]; -in the second compartment is given the number of men that would be -required to sweep the same districts by the machine, and the amount of -wages that would be received by them at the present rate; and the third -and last compartment shows the gross number of hands that would be -displaced, and the annual loss that would accrue to the operatives by -the substitution of mechanical for manual labour in the sweeping of the -streets. - - -TABLE SHOWING THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE NUMBER OF CONTRACTORS’ MEN -AT PRESENT EMPLOYED TO SWEEP THE STREETS BY HAND, AND THE NUMBER THAT -WOULD BE REQUIRED TO SWEEP THE SAME DISTRICTS BY MACHINE WORK, TOGETHER -WITH THE AMOUNT OF WAGES ACCRUING TO EACH. - - ----------------------+---------------------------------------- - | Manual Labour. - +--------------------+------------------- - | Number of | Annual Wages - | Men at present | received by - | employed | Contractors’ - | by Contractors | Men for - | to sweep the | sweeping the - | streets. | Streets, at 15_s._ - | | a Week. - ----------------------+--------------------+------------------- - | | £ _s._ - Districts at present} | | - swept by large } | 262 | 10,218 0 - contractors (see } | | - table, p. 214) } | | - | | - Districts swept by } | 13 | 507 0 - small contractors } | | - ----------------------+--------------------+------------------- - Total | 275 | 10,725 0 - ----------------------+--------------------+------------------- - - ----------------------+---------------------------------------- - | Machine Labour. - +--------------------+------------------- - | Number of | Annual Wages - | Machine Men | that would be - | that would be | received by - | required to | Machine Men, - | attend the | at 16_s._ a - | Street-sweeping | Week. - | Machines. | - ----------------------+--------------------+------------------- - | | £ _s._ - Districts at present} | | - swept by large } | 75 | 3120 0 - contractors (see } | | - table, p. 214) } | | - | | - Districts swept by } | 4 | 166 8 - small contractors } | | - ----------------------+--------------------+------------------- - Total | 79 | 3286 8 - ----------------------+--------------------+------------------- - - ----------------------+---------------------------------------- - | Difference. - +--------------------+------------------- - | Number of | Annual Loss - | Men that | that would - | would be displaced | accrue to - | by | Manual - | Machine-work. | Labourers by - | | Machine-work. - ----------------------+--------------------+------------------- - | | £ _s._ - Districts at present} | | - swept by large } | 187 | 7098 0 - contractors (see } | | - table, p. 214) } | | - | | - Districts swept by } | 9 | 340 12 - small contractors } | | - ----------------------+--------------------+-------------------- - Total | 196 | 7438 12 - ----------------------+--------------------+-------------------- - -Here we find that nearly 200 men would be pauperized, losing upwards of -7000_l._ per annum, if the street-sweeping machine came into general -use throughout London. But, before the introduction of machines, the -thoroughfares of St. Martin’s parish were swept only once a week in -dry weather, and three times a week in sloppy weather, and since the -introduction of the machines they have been swept daily; allowing, -therefore, the extra cleansing to have arisen from the extra cheapness -of the machine work--though it seems to have been the result of -improved sanatory regulations, for in parts where the machine has not -been used the same alteration has taken place--making such allowance, -however, it may, perhaps, be fair to say, that the same increase of -cleansing would take place throughout London; that is to say, that the -streets would be swept by the machines, were they generally used, twice -as often as they are at present by hand. At this rate 158 machine men, -instead of 79 as above calculated, would be required for the work; so -that, reckoning for the increased employment which might arise from the -increased cheapness of the work, we see that, were the street-sweeping -machines used throughout the metropolis, nearly 120 of the 275 manual -labourers now employed at scavaging by the large and small contractors, -would be thrown out of work, and deprived of no less a sum than -4680_l._ per annum. - -This amount, of course, the parishes would pocket, minus the sum that -it would cost them to keep the displaced scavagers as paupers, so that -in this instance, at least, we perceive that, however great a benefit -cheapness may be to the wealthy classes, to the poorer classes it is -far from being of the same advantageous character; for, just as much as -the rate-payers are the gainers in the matter of street-cleansing must -the labourers be the losers--the economy of labour in a trade where -there are too many labourers already, and where the quantity of work -does not admit of indefinite increase, meaning simply the increase of -pauperism[21]. - -The “_labour question_” as connected with the sweeping-machine work, -requires but a brief detail, as it presents no new features. The -majority of the machine men may be described as having been “general -(unskilled) labourers” before they embarked in their present pursuits: -labourers for builders, brick-makers, rubbish-carters, the docks, &c. - -Among them there is but one who was brought up as a mechanic; the -others have all been labourers, brick-makers, and what I heard called -“barrow-workers” on railways, the latter being the most numerous. - -Employment is obtained by application at the wharfs. There is nothing -of the character of a trade society among the machine-men; nothing -in the way of benefit or sick clubs, unless the men choose to enrol -themselves in a general benefit society, of which I did not hear one -instance. - -The payment is by the week, and without drawback in the guise or -disguise of fines, or similar inflictions for the use of tools, &c.; -the payment, moreover, is always in money. - -The only perquisite is in the case of anything being found in the -streets; but the rule as to perquisites seems to be altogether an -understanding among the men. The disposal of what may be picked up in -the streets appears, moreover, to be very much in the discretion of the -picker up. If anything be found in the contents of the vehicle, when -emptied, it is the perquisite of the driver, who is also the unloader; -he, however, is expected to treat the men “on the same beat” out of any -such “treasure trove,” when the said treasure is considerable enough -to justify such bounty. Odd sixpences, shillings, or copper coin, I -was informed, were found almost every week, but I could ascertain no -general average. One man, some time ago, found a purse inside the -vehicle containing 20_s._, and “spent it out and out all on hisself,” -in a carouse of three days. He lost his situation in consequence. - -The number of men employed by the company in this trade is 24, and -these perform all the work required in the driving and attendance upon -the machines in the street, in loading the barges, grooming the horses, -&c. There is, indeed, a twenty-fifth man, but he is a blacksmith, and -his wages of 35_s._ weekly are included in the estimate as to wear and -tear given below, for he shoes the horses and repairs the machines. - -The rate of wages paid by the machine company is 16_s._ a week, so that -the full amount of wages is paid to the men. - -But though the company cannot be ranked among the grinders of the -scavaging trade, they _must_ be placed among “the drivers.” - -I am assured, by those who are familiar with such labour, that the 24 -men employed by the machine masters do the work of upwards of 30 in the -honourable trade, with a corresponding saving to their employers, from -an adherence to the main point of the scurf system, the overworking of -the men without extra payment. - -It has been before stated that, in dry weather, the roads require to be -watered before being swept, so that the brushes may _bite_. In summer -the machine-men sometimes commence this part of their business at three -in the morning; and at the other periods of the year, sometimes at -early morning, when moonlight. In summer the hours of labour in the -streets are from three, four, five, or six in the morning, to half-past -four in the afternoon; in winter, from light to light, and after street -there may be yard and barge work. - -The saving by this scurf system, then, is:-- - - 30 men (honourable trade), 16_s._ weekly £1248 yearly. - 24 men (scurf-trade) doing same work, 16_s._ weekly 998 „ - ----- - Saving to capitalist and loss to labourer £250 „ - -It now but remains to sum up the capital, income, and expenditure of -the machine-scavaging trade. - -The cost of a street-sweeping machine is 50_l._ to 60_l._, with an -additional 5_l._ 5_s._ for the set of brooms. The wear and tear of -these machines are very considerable. A man who had the care of one -told me that when there was a heavy stress on it he had known the iron -cogs of the inner wheels “go rattle, rattle, snap, snap,” until it -became difficult to proceed with the work. The brooms, too, in hard -work and “cloggy” weather, are apt to snap short, and in the regular -course of wear have to be renewed every four or five weeks. The sets -of brooms are of bass, worked strongly with copper wire. The whole -apparatus can be unscrewed and taken to pieces, to be cleaned or -repaired. The repairs, independently of the renewal of the brooms, have -been calculated at 7_l._ yearly each machine. The capital invested, -then, in twelve street-sweeping machines, in the horses, and what may -be considered the appurtenances of the trade, together with the yearly -expenditure, may be thus calculated:-- - - -CAPITAL OF STREET-SWEEPING MACHINE TRADE. - - 12 machines, 60_l._ each £720 - 12 sets of brooms, 5_l._ 5_s._ each set 63 - 19 horses, 25_l._ each 475 - 4 water-carts, 20_l._ each 80 - 19 sets of harness (new), 7_l._ each set 133 - 4 barges, 50_l._ each 200 - ----- - £1671 - - -YEARLY EXPENDITURE. - - 24 men, 16_s._ weekly £998 - 120 sets of brooms for 12 machines, 4_l._ per set 480 - Wear and tear, &c. (15 per cent.) 255 - Keep of 19 horses, 10_s._ each weekly 494 - Rent (say) 150 - Clerk (say) 100 - Interest on capital, at 10 per cent. 170 - ----- - £2674 - -In this calculation I have included wear and tear of the whole of the -implements of the stock-in-trade, &c., taking that of the brooms on the -most moderate estimate. According to the scale of payment by the parish -of St. Martin (which is now 1000_l._ per annum) the probable receipts -of a single year will be:-- - - -YEARLY RECEIPTS. - - £ _s._ _d._ - For hire of 12 machines 2500 0 0 - 200 barge-loads of manure, 5_l._ 15_s._ per barge 1150 10 0 - --------------- - 3650 10 0 - Yearly expenditure 2674 0 0 - --------------- - Profit 976 10 0 - - -OF THE CLEANSING OF THE STREETS BY PAUPER LABOUR. - -Under the head of the several modes and characteristics of -street-cleansing, I stated at p. 207 of the present volume that there -were no less than four distinct kinds of labourers employed in the -scavaging of the public thoroughfares of the metropolis. These were:-- - - 1. The self-supporting manual labourers. - 2. The self-supporting machine labourers. - 3. The pauper labourers. - 4. The “philanthropic” labourers. - -I have already set forth the distinguishing features of the first two -of these different orders of workmen in connection with the scavaging -trade, and now proceed in due order to treat of the characteristics of -the third. - -The subject of pauper labour generally is one of the most difficult -topics that the social philosopher can deal with. It is not possible, -however, to do more here than draw attention to the salient points of -the question. The more comprehensive consideration of the matter must -be reserved till such time as I come to treat of the poor specially -under the head of those that cannot work. - -By the 43 Eliz., which is generally regarded as the basis of the -existing poor laws in this country, it was ordained that in every -parish a fund should be raised by local taxation, not merely for the -relief of the aged and infirm, but _for setting to work all persons -having no means to maintain themselves, and using no ordinary or daily -trade of life to get their living by_. - -It was, however, soon discovered that it was one thing to pass an act -for setting able-bodied paupers to work, and another thing to do so. -“In every place,” as Mr. Thornton truly says in his excellent treatise -on “Over Population,” “there is only a certain amount of work to be -done,” (limited by the extent of the market) “and only a certain amount -of capital to pay for it; and, if the number of workmen be more than -proportionate to the work, employment can only be given to those who -want it by taking from those who have.” - -Let me illustrate this by the circumstances of the scavaging trade. -There are 1760 miles of streets throughout London, and these would seem -to require about 600 scavagers to cleanse them. It is self-evident, -therefore, that if 400 paupers be “set” to sweep particular districts, -the same number of self-supporting labourers must be deprived of -employment, and if these cannot obtain work elsewhere, they of course -must become paupers too, and, seeking relief, be put upon the same kind -of work as they were originally deprived of, and that only to displace -and pauperize in their turn a similar number of independent operatives. - -The work of a country then being limited (by the capital and market for -the produce), there can be but two modes of setting paupers to labour: -(1) by throwing the self-supporting operatives out of employment -altogether, and substituting pauper labourers in their stead; (2) by -giving a portion of the work to the paupers, and so decreasing the -employment, and consequently the wages, of the regular operatives. In -either case, however, the independent labourers must be reduced to a -state of comparative or positive dependence, for _it is impossible to -make labourers of the paupers of an over-populated country without -making paupers of the labourers_. - -Some economists argue that, as paupers are consumers, they should, -whenever they are able to work, be made producers also, or otherwise -they exhaust the national wealth, to which they do not contribute. This -might be a sound axiom were there work sufficient for all. But in an -over-populated country there is not work enough, as is proven by the -mere fact of the over-population; and the able-bodied paupers _are_ -paupers simply _because they cannot obtain work_, so that to employ -those who are out of work is to throw out those who are in work, and -thus to pauperize the self-supporting. - -The whole matter seems to hinge upon this one question-- - -Who are to maintain the paupers? The ratepaying traders or the -non-ratepaying workmen? - -If the paupers be set to work in a country like Great Britain, they -must necessarily be brought into competition with the self-supporting -workmen, and so be made to share the wage fund with them, decreasing -the price of labour in proportion to the extra number of such pauper -labourers among whom the capital of the trade has to be shared. Hence -the burden of maintaining the paupers will be virtually shifted from -the capitalist to the labourer, the poor-rate being thus really paid -out of the wages of the operatives, instead of the profits of the -traders, as it should be. - -And here lies the great wrong of pauper labour. It saddles the poor -with the maintenance of their poorer brethren, while the rich not only -contribute nothing to their support, but are made still richer by the -increased cheapness resulting from the depreciation of labour and their -consequent ability to obtain a greater quantity of commodities for the -same amount of money. - -In illustration of this argument let us say the wages of 600 -independent scavagers amount, at 15_s._ a week each the year through, -to 23,400_l._ per annum; and let us say, moreover, that the keep of -400 paupers amounts, at 5_s._ a week each, to, altogether, 5200_l._; -hence the total annual expense to the several metropolitan parishes for -cleansing the streets and maintaining 400 paupers would be 23,400_l._ + -5200_l._ = 28,600_l._ - -If, however, the 400 paupers be set to scavaging work, and made to do -something for their keep, one of two things _must_ follow: (1) either -the 400 extra hands will receive their share of the 23,400_l._ devoted -to the payment of the operative scavagers, in which case the wages of -each of the regular hands will be reduced from 15_s._ to 9_s._ a week; -hence the maintenance of the paupers will be saddled upon the 600 -independent operatives, who will lose no less than 9360_l._ per annum, -while the ratepayers will be saved the maintenance of the 400 paupers -and so gain 5200_l._ per annum by the change; (2) or else 400 of the -self-supporting operatives must be thrown out of work, in which case -the displaced labourers will lose no less than 15,600_l._, while the -ratepayers will gain upwards of 5000_l._ - -The reader is now, I believe, in a position to comprehend the wrong -done to the self-supporting scavagers by the employment of pauper -labour in the cleansing of the streets. - -The preparation of the material of the roads of a parish seems, as far -as the metropolis is concerned, at one time to have supplied the chief -“test,” to which parishes have resorted, as regards the willingness -to labour on the part of the able-bodied applicants for relief. When -the casual wards of the workhouses were open for the reception of -all vagrants who sought a night’s shelter, each tramper was required -to break so many stones in the morning before receiving a certain -allowance of bread, soup, or what not for his breakfast; and he then -might be received again into the shelter of this casual asylum. In some -parishes the wards were open without the test of stone-breaking, and -there was a crowded resort to them, especially during the prevalence -of the famine in Ireland and the immigration of the Irish peasants to -England. The favourite resort of the vagrants was Marylebone workhouse, -and Irish immigrants very frequently presented slips of paper on -which some tramper whom they had met with on their way had written -“_Marylebone workhouse_,” as the best place at which they could apply, -and these the simple Irish offered as passports for admission! - -Gradually, the asylum of these wards, with or without labour tests, -was discontinued, and in one where the labour test used to be strongly -insisted upon--in St. Pancras--a school for pauper children has been -erected on the site of the stone-yard. - -This labour test was unequal when applied to all comers; for what -was easy work to an agricultural labourer, a railway excavator, a -quarryman, or to any one used to wield a hammer, was painful and -blistering to a starving tailor. Nor was the test enforced by the -overseers or regarded by the paupers as a proof of willingness to work, -but simply as a punishment for poverty, and as a means of deterring the -needy from applying for relief. To make labour a punishment, however, -is _not_ to destroy, but really to confirm, idle habits; it is to -give a deeper root to the vagrant’s settled aversion to work. “Well, -I always thought it was unpleasant,” the vagabond will say to himself -“_that_ working for one’s bread, and now I’m _convinced_ of it!” Again, -in many of the workhouses the labour to which the paupers were set was -of a manifestly unremunerative character, being work for mere work’s -sake; and to apply people to unproductive labour is to destroy all the -ordinary motives to toil--to take away the only stimulus to industry, -and remove the very will to work which the labour test was supposed to -discover[22]. - -The labour test, then, or setting the poor to work as a proof of -their willingness to labour, appears to be as foolish as it is -vicious; the objections to it being--(1) the inequality of the test -applied to different kinds of work-people; (2) the tendency of it to -confirm rather than weaken idle habits by making labour inordinately -repulsive; (3) the removal of the ordinary stimulus to industry by the -unproductiveness of the work to which the poor are generally applied. - -And now, having dealt with the subject of parish labour as a test of -the willingness to work on the part of the applicants for relief, I -will proceed to deal with that portion of the work itself which is -connected with the cleansing of the streets. - -And first as to the employment of paupers at all in the streets. If -pauperism be a disgrace, then it is unjust to turn a man into the -public thoroughfares, wearing the badge of beggary, to be pointed -at and scorned for his poverty, especially when we are growing so -particularly studious of our criminals that we make them wear masks -to prevent even their faces being seen[23]. Nor is it consistent with -the principles of an enlightened national morality that we should -force a body of honest men to labour upon the highways, branded with -a degrading garb, like convicts. Neither is it _wise_ to do so, for -the shame of poverty soon becomes deadened by the repeated exposure to -public scorn; and thus the occasional recipient of parish relief is -ultimately converted into the hardened and habitual pauper. “Once a -pauper always a pauper,” I was assured was the parish rule; and here -lies the _rationale_ of the fact. Not long ago this system of employing -_badged_ paupers to labour in the public thoroughfares was carried to -a much more offensive extent than it is even at present. At one time -the pauper labourers of a certain parish had the attention of every -passer-by attracted to them while at their work, for on the back of -each man’s garb--a sort of smock-frock--was marked, with sufficient -prominence, “CLERKENWELL. STOP IT!” This public intimation that the -labourers were not only paupers, but regarded as thieves, and expected -to purloin the parish dress they wore, attracted public attention, and -was severely commented upon at a meeting. The “STOP IT!” therefore was -cancelled, and the frocks are now _merely_ lettered “CLERKENWELL.” -Before the alteration the men very generally wore the garment inside -out. - -The present dress of the parish scavagers is usually a loose -smock-frock, costing 1_s._ 6_d._ to 2_s._, and a glazed hat of about -the same price. In some cases, however, the men may wear these things -or not, at their option. - -The pauper scavagers employed by the several metropolitan parishes may -be divided into three classes:-- - -1. The in-door paupers, who receive no wages whatever (their lodging, -food, and clothing being considered to be sufficient remuneration for -their labour). - -2. The out-door paupers, who are paid partly in money and partly in -kind, and employed in some cases three days and in others six days in -the week. - - These may be subdivided into--(_a_) the single men, who receive, or - rather used to receive, 9_d._ and a quartern loaf for each of the - three or more days they were so employed; (_b_) the married men with - families, who receive 7_s._ and 3 quartern loaves a week to 1_s._ - 1-1/2_d._ and 1 quartern loaf for each day’s labour. - -3. The unemployed labourers of the district, who are set to scavaging -work by the parish, and paid a regular money wage--the employment -being constant, and the rate of remuneration ranging from 1_s._ 3_d._ -to 2_s._ 6_d._ a day for each of the six days, or from 7_s._ 6_d._ to -15_s._ a week. - -In pp. 246, 247, I give a table of the wages paid by each of the -metropolitan parishes. This has been collected at great trouble in -order to arrive at the truth on this most important matter, and for -which purpose the several parishes have been personally visited. It -will be seen on reference to this document, that there is only one -parish at present that employs its in-door paupers in the scavaging of -the public streets; and 3 parishes employing 48 out-door paupers, who -are paid partly in money and partly in bread; the money remuneration -ranging from 1_s._ 1-1/2_d._ a day (paid by Clerkenwell) to 7_s._ -a week (paid by Chelsea), and moreover 31 parishes employing 408 -applicants for relief (paupers they cannot be called), and paying them -wholly in money, the remuneration ranging from 15_s._ per week to 7_s._ -6_d._ (paid by the Liberty of the Rolls), and the employment from 6 -to 3 days weekly. As a general rule it was found that the greatest -complaints were made by the authorities as to the idleness of the poor, -and by the poor as to the tyranny of the authorities, in those parishes -where the remuneration was the least. In St. Luke’s, Chelsea, for -instance, where the remuneration is but 7_s._ a week and three loaves, -the criminations and recriminations by the parish functionaries and -the paupers were almost equally harsh and bitter. I should, however, -observe that the men employed in this parish spoke in terms of great -commendation of Mr. Pattison the surveyor, saying he always gave them -to understand that they were free labourers, and invariably treated -them as such. The men at work for Bermondsey parish also spoke very -highly of their superintendent, who, it seems, has interested himself -to obtain for them a foul-weather coat. Some of the highway boards or -trusts take all the pauper labourers sent them by the parish, while -others give employment only to such as please them. These boards -generally pay good wages, and are in favour with the men. - -The mode of working, as regards the use of the implements and the -manual labour, is generally the same among the pauper scavagers as I -have described in connection with the scavagers generally. - -The consideration of what is the rate of parish pay to the poor who -are employed as scavagers, is complicated by the different modes in -which the employment is carried out, for, as we see, there is--1st, the -scavaging labour, by workhouse inmates, without any payment beyond the -cost of maintenance and clothing; 2nd, the “short” or three-days-a-week -labour, with or without “relief” in the bestowal of bread; and 3rd, the -six days’ work weekly, with a money wage and no bread, nor anything in -the form of payment in kind or of “relief.” - -Let me begin with the first system of labour above mentioned, viz. -the employment of the in-door paupers without wages of any kind, -their food, lodging, and clothing being considered as equivalents for -their work. The principal evil in connection with this form of parish -work is its compulsory character, the men regarding it not as so much -work given in exchange for such and such comforts, but as something -_exacted_ from them; and, to tell the truth, it is precisely the -counterpart of slavery, being equally deficient in all inducement to -toil, and consequently requiring almost the same system of compulsion -and supervision in order to keep the men at their labour. All interest -in the work is destroyed, there being no reward connected with it; and -consequently the same organized system of setting to work is required -as with cattle. There are but two inducements to voluntary action--pain -to be avoided or pleasure to be derived--or, in other words, the -attractiveness and repulsiveness of objects. Take away the pecuniary -attraction of labour, and men become mere beasts of burden, capable -of being set to work only by the dread of some punishment; hence the -system of parish labour, which has no reward directly connected with -it, must necessarily be tyrannical, and so tend to induce idleness and -a hatred of work altogether. - -Of the different forms of pauper work, street-sweeping is, I am -inclined to believe, the most unpopular of all among the poor. The -scavaging is generally done in the workhouse dress, and that to all, -except the hardened paupers, and sometimes even to them, is highly -distasteful. Neither have such labourers, as I have said, the incentive -of that hope of the reward which, however diminutive, still tends to -sweeten the most repulsive labour. I am informed by an experienced -gangsman under a contractor, that it is notorious that the workhouse -hands are the least industrious scavagers in the streets. “They don’t -sweep as well,” he said, “and don’t go about it like regular men; they -take it quite easy.” It is often asserted that this labour of the -workhouse men is applied as a _test_; but this opinion seems rather to -bear on the past than the present. - -One man thus employed gave me the following account. He was garrulous -but not communicative, as is frequently the case with men who love to -hear themselves talk, and are not very often able to command listeners. -He was healthy looking enough, but he told me he was, or had been -“delicate.” He querulously objected to be questioned about his youth, -or the reason of his being a pauper, but seemed to be abounding in -workhouse stories and workhouse grievances. - -“Street-sweeping,” he said, “degrades a man, and if a man’s poor he -hasn’t no call to be degraded. Why can’t they set the thieves and -pickpockets to sweep? they could be watched easy enough; there’s -always idle fellers as reckons theirselves real gents, as can be got -for watching and sitch easy jobs, for they gets as much for them, as -three men’s paid for hard work in a week. I never was in a prison, but -I’ve heerd that people there is better fed and better cared for than -in workusses. What’s the meaning of that, sir, I’d like for to know? -You can’t tell me, but I can tell you. The workus is made as ugly as -it can be, that poor people may be got to leave it, and chance dying -in the street rather.” [Here the man indulged in a gabbled detail of a -series of pauper grievances which I had a difficulty in diverting or -interrupting. On my asking if the other paupers had the same opinion -as to street-sweeping as he had, he replied:--] “To be sure they has; -all them that has sense to have a ’pinion at all has; there’s not two -sides to it any how. No, I don’t want to be kept and do nothink. I want -_proper_ work. And by the rights of it I might as well be kept with -nothink to do as ---- or ----” [parish officials]. “Have they nothing -to do,” I asked? “Nothink, but to make mischief and get what ought to -go to the poor. It’s salaries and such like as swallers the rates, and -that’s what every poor family knows as knows anythink. Did I ever like -my work better? Certainly not. Do I take any pains with it? Well, where -would be the good? I can sweep well enough, when I please, but if I -could do more than the best man as ever Mr. Darke paid a pound a week -to, it wouldn’t be a bit better for me--not a bit, sir, I assure you. -We all takes it easy whenever we can, but the work _must_ be done. The -only good about it is that you get outside the house. It’s a change -that way certainly. But we work like horses and is treated like asses.” -[On my reminding him that he had just told me that they all took it -easy when they could, and _that_ rather often, he replied:] “Well, -don’t horses? But it ain’t much use talking, sir. It’s only them as has -been in workusses and in parish work as can understand all the ins and -outs of it.” - -In giving the above and the following statements I have endeavoured to -elicit the _feelings_ of the several paupers whom I conversed with. -Poor, ignorant, or prejudiced men may easily be mistaken in their -opinions, or in what they may consider their “facts,” but if a clear -exposition of their sentiments be obtained, it is a guide to the -truth. I have, therefore, given the statement of the in-door pauper’s -opinions, querulously as they were delivered, as I believe them to be -the sentiments of those of his class who, as he said, had any opinion -at all. - -It seems indeed, from all I could learn on the subject, that pauper -street-work, even at the best, is unwilling and slovenly work, pauper -workmen being the worst of all workmen. If the streets be swept clean, -it is because a dozen paupers are put to the labour of eight, nine, -or ten regular scavagers who are independent labourers, and who may -have some “pride of art,” or some desire to show their employers that -they are to be depended upon. This feeling does not actuate the pauper -workman, who thinks or knows that if he did evince a desire and a -perseverance to please, it would avail him little beyond the sneers and -ill-will of his mates; so that, even with a disposition to acquire the -good opinion of the authorities, there is this obstacle in his way, and -to most men who move in a circumscribed sphere it is a serious obstacle. - -Of the second mode of pauper scavaging, viz., that performed by -out-door paupers, and paid for partly in money and partly in kind, -I heard from officials connected with pauper management very strong -condemnations, as being full of mischievous and degrading tendencies. -The payment to the out-door pauper scavager averages, as I have -stated, 9_d._ a day to a single man, with, perhaps, a quartern loaf; -and this, in some cases, is for only three days in the week; while -to a married man with a family, it varies between 1_s._ 1-1/2_d._ -and 1_s._ 2_d._ a day, with a quartern, and sometimes two quartern -loaves; and this, likewise, is occasionally from three to six days -in the week. On this the single or family men must subsist, if they -have no other means of earning an addition. The men thus employed -are certainly not independent labourers, nor are they, in the full -sense of the word as popularly understood, paupers; for their means -of subsistence are partly the fruits of their toil; and although they -are wretchedly dependent, they seem to feel that they have a sort of -right to be set to work, as the law ordains such modicum of relief, in -or out of the workhouse, as will only ward off death through hunger. -This “three-days-a-week work” is by the poor or pauper labourers -looked upon as being, after the in-door pauper work, the worst sort of -employment. - -[24] TABLE SHOWING THE NUMBER OF MEN EMPLOYED BY THE METROPOLITAN -PARISHES AND HIGHWAY BOARDS IN SCAVAGING, AS WELL AS THE NUMBER OF -HOURS PER DAY AND NUMBER OF DAYS PER WEEK, TOGETHER WITH THE AMOUNT OF -WAGES ACCRUING TO EACH, AND THE TOTAL ANNUAL WAGES OF THE WHOLE. - - -----------------------------------------+------------+------------+---------------+------------+-------------------------- - | No. of | Number of | | | - | married men| single men | Number of | Number of | Daily or weekly - | employed | employed |Superintendents| Foremen | wages of the - PARISHES. | by parishes| by parishes| employed | or Gangers | married - | daily in | daily in | by parishes. | employed | parish-men. - | scavaging | scavaging | |by parishes.| - |the streets.|the streets.| | | - -----------------------------------------+------------+------------+---------------+------------+-------------------------- - _Paid in Money (by Parishes)._ | | | | | _s._ - Greenwich | 7 | 1 | 1 | 1 | 15 - | | | | | - Walworth }| 12 | 8 | | 3 | 15 - Newington }| | | | | - Lambeth | 30 | | 1 | 5 | 15 - Poplar | 20 | | | 4 | 15 - St. Ann’s, Soho | 4 | 1 | | | 15 - Rotherhithe | 4 | | | 1 | 14 - Wandsworth | 6 | | | 1 | 12 - Hackney | 12 | 4 | | 4 | 12 - St. Mary’s, Paddington | 8 | 5 | 1 | 2 | 12 - St. Giles’s, and St. George’s, Bloomsbury| 20 | 4 | | 4 | 12 - St. Pancras (South-west Division) | 10 | | 2 | | 12 - St. Clement Danes | 6 | 2 | | 1 | 11 - St. Paul’s, Covent-garden | 2 | 5 | | 1 | 11 - St. James’s, Westminster | 6 | | | 1 | 10 - Ditto | 6 | | | 1 | 10 - Ditto | 6 | | | 1 | 9 - St. Andrew’s, Holborn | 10 | | 1 | 1 | 9 - Marylebone | 80 | 15 | 1 | 10 | 9 - St. George’s, Hanover-square | 30 | 6 | 1 | 4 | 9_s._ a week. - Liberty of the Rolls | 1 | | | | 7s. 6d. - Bermondsey | 13 | 1 | 1 | | 1_s._ 4_d._ per day. - _Paid in Money (by Highway Boards)._ | | | | | - St. James’s, Clerkenwell (1st Division) | 5 | | | | 15 - Islington | 7 | 1 | | 1 | 15 - Commercial Road East | 4 | 1 | 1 | | 15 - Hampstead | 4 | | | 1 | 15 - Highgate | 3 | 2 | | 1 | 14 - Kensington | 6 | 1 | | 1 | 12 - Lewisham | 4 | | | 1 | 12 - Camberwell | 10 | | | 1 | 12 - Christchurch, Lambeth | 6 | | | 1 | 12 - Woolwich | 5 | | | 1 | 12 - Deptford | 4 | | | 1 | 9 - _Paid partly in kind._ | | | | | - St. Luke’s, Chelsea | 27 | 9 | | 3 | 7_s._, and on an average - | | | | | 3 loaves each, - | | | | | at 4d. a loaf. - Hans-town „ | 6 | | | 1 | 7_s._, and average 3 - | | | | | loaves per head. - St. James’s, Clerkenwell | 6 | | | |1_s._ 1-1/2_d._ a day, and - | | | | | 1 quartern loaf. - _Paid wholly in kind._ | | | | | - St. Pancras (Highways) | | 10 | 1 | | estimated expense - | | | | | of food, 2_s._ 4_d._ - | | | | | weekly. - -----------------------------------------+------------+------------+---------------+------------+-------------------------- - Total | 400 | 66 | 8 | 62 | - -----------------------------------------+------------+------------+---------------+------------+-------------------------- - - --------------------+--------------------+-------------+------------+------------+----------------- - | | | Number of | Number of | Total annual - Daily or weekly | Weekly wages | Weekly wages| hours per | days in the| wages of - wages of the | of the |of Foremen or| day each | week each | the whole, - single | Superintendents | Gangers | parish-man | parish-man | including the - parish-men. | employed by | employed by | is employed| is employed| estimated - | parishes. | parishes. |to sweep the| in sweeping| value of food - | | | streets. |the streets.| and clothes. - --------------------+--------------------+-------------+------------|------------+----------------- - _s._ | _s._ | _s._ | | | £. _s._ _d._ - 15 | 30_s._ and a house | 18 | 10 | 6 | 456 16 0 - | to live in. | | | | - 14 | | 18 | 12 | 6 | 899 12 0 - | | | | | - | 20 | 18 | 10 | 6 | 1456 0 0 - | | 18 | 10 | 6 | 967 4 0 - 15 | | | 12 | 6 | 195 0 0 - | | 16 | 10 | 6 | 187 4 0 - | | 18 | 10 | 6 | 234 0 0 - 10 | | 18 | 10 | 6 | 665 12 0 - 10 | 20 | 15 | 12 | 6 | 509 12 0 - 12 | | 18 | 12 | 6 | 936 0 0 - | | 18 | 12 | 6 | 93 12 0 - 11 | | 15 | 10 | 6 | 267 16 0 - 11 | | 13 | 12 | 6 | 234 0 0 - | | 12 | 10 | 6 | 187 4 0 - | | 12 | 10 | 6 | 187 4 0 - | | 12 | 10 | 6 | 166 12 0 - | 15 | 12 | 10 | 6 | 304 4 0 - 9 | 18 | 16 | 10 | 6 | 2685 16 0 - 9_s._ a week. | 20 | 16 | 10 | 6 | 1060 16 0 - | | | 10 | 6 | 19 10 0 - 1_s._ 4_d._ per day.|28_s._ and clothing.| | 10 | 5 | 321 3 4 - | | | | | - | | | 10 | 6 | 195 0 0 - 15 | | 18 | 10 | 6 | 405 0 0 - 15 | 100_l._ a year. | | 12 | 6 | 295 0 0 - | | 18 | 10 | 6 | 202 10 0 - 14 | | 18 | 10 | 6 | 228 16 0 - 12 | | 18 | 12 | 6 | 265 4 0 - | | 18 | 10 | 6 | 171 12 0 - | | 18 | 12 | 6 | 358 16 0 - | | 15 | 10 | 6 | 226 4 0 - | | 18 | 10 | 6 | 202 16 0 - | | 18 | 10 | 3 | 140 8 0 - | | | | | - 7 | | 14 | 10 | 6 | 834 12 0 - | | | | | - | | | | | - | | 14 | 10 | 6 | 161 4 0 - | | | | | - | | | 10 | 3 | 70 4 0 - | | | | | - | | | | | - | 21_s._ and food. | | 8 | 4 | 128 5 4 - | | | | | - | | | | | - --------------------+--------------------+-------------+------------+------------+----------------- - | | | | |15,919 8 8 - --------------------+--------------------+-------------|------------+------------+----------------- - -From a married man employed by the parish under this mode, I had the -following account. - -He was an intelligent-looking man, of about 35, but with nothing very -particular in his appearance unless it were a head of very curly hair. -He gave me the statement in his own room, which was larger than I have -usually found such abodes, and would have been very bare, but that it -was somewhat littered with the vessels of his trade as a street-seller -of Nectar, Persian Sherbet, Raspberryade, and other decoctions of -coloured ginger-beer, with high-sounding names and indifferent flavour: -in the summer he said he could live better thereby, with a little -costering, than by street-sweeping, but being often a sickly man he -could not do so during the uncertainties of a winter street trade. His -wife, a decent looking woman, was present occasionally, suckling one -child, about two years old--for the poor often protract the weaning of -their children, as the mother’s nutriment is the _cheapest_ of all food -for the infant, and as the means of postponing the further increase of -their family--whilst another of five or six years of age sat on a bench -by her side. There was nothing on the walls in the way of an ornament, -as I have seen in some of the rooms of the poor, for the couple had -once been in the workhouse, and might be driven there again, and with -such apprehensions did not care, perhaps, to make a home otherwise than -they found it, even if the consumption of only a little spare time were -involved. - -The husband said:-- - -“I was brought up as a type-founder; my father, who was one, learnt me -his trade; but he died when I was quite a young man, or I might have -been better perfected in it. I was comfortably off enough then, and got -married. Very soon after that I was taken ill with an abscess in my -neck, you can see the mark of it still.” [He showed me the mark.] “For -six months I wasn’t able to do a thing, and I was a part of the time, -I don’t recollect how long, in St. Bartholomew’s Hospital. I was weak -and ill when I came out, and hardly fit for work; I couldn’t hear of -any work I could get, for there was a great bother in the trade between -master and men. Before I went into the hospital, there was money to pay -to doctors; and when I came out I could earn nothing, so everything -went, yes, sir, everything. My wife made a little matter with charing -for families she’d lived in, but things are in a bad way if a poor -woman has to keep her husband. She was taken ill at last, and then -there was nothing but the parish for us. I suffered a great deal before -it come to that. It was awful. No one can know what it is but them that -suffers it. But I didn’t know what in the world to do. We lived then in -St. Luke’s, and were passed to our own parish, and were three months -in the workhouse. The living was good enough, better then than it is -now, I’ve heard, but I was miserable.” [“And I was _very_ miserable,” -interposed the wife, “for I had been brought up comfortable; my father -was a respectable tradesman in St. George’s-in-the-East, and I had been -in good situations.”] “We made ourselves,” said the husband, “as useful -as we could, but we were parted of course. At the three months’ end, -I had 10_s._ given to me to come out with, and was told I might start -costermongering on it. But to a man not up to the trade, 10_s._ won’t -go very far to keep up costering. I didn’t feel master enough of my -own trade by this time to try for work at it, and work wasn’t at all -regular. There were good hands earning only 12_s._ a week. The 10_s._ -soon went, and I had again to apply for relief, and got an order for -the stone-yard to go and break stones. Ten bushels was to be broken for -15_d._ It was dreadful hard work at first. My hands got all blistered -and bloody, and I’ve gone home and cried with pain and wretchedness. -At first it was on to three days before I could break the ten bushels. -I felt shivered to bits all over my arms and shoulders, and my head -was splitting. I then got to do it in two days, and then in one, and -it grew easier. But all this time I had only what was reckoned three -days’ work in a week. That is, you see, sir, I had only three times -ten bushels of stones given to break in the week, and earned only -3_s._ 9_d._ Yes, I lived on it, and paid 1_s._ 6_d._ a week rent, for -the neighbours took care of a few sticks for us, and the parish or -a broker wouldn’t have found them worth carriage. My wife was then -in the country with a sister. I lived upon bread and dripping, went -without fire or candle (or had one only very seldom) though it wasn’t -warm weather. I can safely say that for eight weeks I never tasted one -bite of meat, and hardly a bite of butter. When I couldn’t sleep of -a night, but that wasn’t often, it was terrible, very. I washed what -bits of things I had then myself, and had sometimes to get a ha’porth -of soap as a favour, as the chandler said she ‘didn’t make less than a -penn’orth.’ If I eat too much dripping, it made me feel sick. I hardly -know how much bread and dripping I eat in a week. I spent what money I -had in it and bread, and sometimes went without. I was very weak, you -may be sure, sir; and if I’d had the influenza or anything that way, I -should have gone off like a shot, for I seemed to have no constitution -left. But my wife came back again and got work at charing, and made -about 4_s._ a week at it; but we were still very badly off. Then I got -to work on the roads every day, and had 1_s._ and a quartern loaf a -day, which was a rise. I had only one child then, but men with larger -families got two quartern loaves a day. Single men got 9_d._ a day. -It was far easier work than stone-breaking too. The hours were from -eight to five in winter, and from seven to six in summer. But there’s -always changes going on, and we were put on 1_s._ 1-1/2_d._ a day and -a quartern loaf, and only three days a week. All the same as to time -of course. The bread wasn’t good; it was only cheap. I suppose there -was 20 of us working most of the times as I was. The gangsman, as you -call him, but that’s more for the regular hands, was a servant of the -parish, and a great tyrant. Yes, indeed, when we had a talk among -ourselves, there was nothing but grumbling heard of. Some of the tales -I’ve heard were shocking; worse than what I’ve gone through. Everybody -was grumbling, except perhaps two men that had been 20 years in the -streets, and were like born paupers. They didn’t feel it, for there’s -a great difference in men. They knew no better. But anybody might -have been frightened to hear some of the men talk and curse. We’ve -stopped work to abuse the parish officers as might be passing. We’ve -mobbed the overseers, and a number of us, I was one, were taken before -the magistrate for it; but we told him how badly we were off, and he -discharged us, and gave us orders into the workhouse, and told ’em to -see if nothing could be done for us. We were there till next morning, -and then sent away without anything being said. - -“It’s a sad life, sir, is a parish worker’s. I wish to God I could -get out of it. But when a man has children he can’t stop and say ‘I -can’t do this,’ and ‘I won’t do that.’ Last week, now, in costering, I -lost 6_s._” [he meant that his expenses, of every kind, exceeded his -receipts by 6_s._], “and though I can distil nectar, or anything that -way” [this was said somewhat laughingly], “it’s only when the weather’s -hot and fine that any good at all can be done with it. I think, too, -that there’s not the money among working men that there once was. -Anything regular in the way of pay must always be looked at by a man -with a family. - -“Of course the streets must be properly swept, and if I can sweep -them as well as Mr. Dodd’s men, for I know one of them very well, why -should I have only 3_s._ 4-1/2_d._ a week and three loaves, and he have -16_s._, I think it is? I don’t drink, my wife knows I don’t” [the wife -assented], “and it seems as if in a parish a man must be kept down when -he is down, and then blamed for it. I may not understand all about it, -but it looks queer.” - -From an _unmarried_ man, looking like a mere boy in the face, although -he assured me he was nearly 24, as far as he knew, I heard an account -of his labour and its fruits as a parish scavager; also of his former -career, which partakes greatly in its characteristics of the narratives -I gave, toward the close of the first volume, of deserted, neglected, -and runaway children. - -He lived from his earliest recollection with an old woman whom he first -called “grandmother,” and was then bid to call “aunt,” and she, some of -the neighbours told him, had “kept him out of his rights,” for she had -4_s._ a week with him, so that there ought to have been money coming to -him when he grew up. I have sometimes heard similar statements from the -ignorant poor, for it is agreeable enough to them to fancy that they -have been wronged out of fortunes to which they were justly entitled, -and deprived of the position and consequence in life which they ought -to have possessed “by rights.” In the course of my inquiries among the -poor women who supply the slop milliners’ shops with widows’ caps, -cap fronts, women’s collars, &c., &c., I was told by one middle-aged -cap-maker, a very silly person, that she would be worth 100,000_l._, -“if she had her rights.” What those “rights” were she could not -explain, only that there was and had been a great deal of money in the -family, and of course she had a right to her share, only she was kept -out of it. - -The youth in question never heard of a father, and had been informed -that his mother had died when he was a baby. From what he told me, I -think it most probable that he was an illegitimate child, for whose -maintenance his father possibly paid the 4_s._ a week, perhaps to -some near relative of the deceased mother. The old woman, as well as -I could make the matter out from his narrative, died suddenly, and, -as little was known about her, she was buried by the parish, and the -lad, on the evening of the funeral, was to have been taken by the -landlord of the house where they lodged into the workhouse; but the -boy ran away before this could be accomplished; the parish of course -not objecting to be relieved of an incumbrance. He thought he was then -about twelve or thirteen years of age, and he had before run away from -two schools, one a Ragged-school, to which he had been sent, “_for -it was so confining_,” he said, “and one master, not he as had the -raggeds, leathered him,” to use his own words, “tightly.” He knew his -letters now, he thought, but that was all, “and very few,” he said, -gravely, “would have put up with it so long as I did.” He subsisted as -well as he could by selling matches, penny memorandum books, onions, -&c., after he had run away, sleeping under hedges in the country, or in -lodging-houses in town, and living on a few pence a day, or “starving -on nothink.” He was taken ill, and believed it was of a fever, at or -somewhere about Portsmouth, and when he was sufficiently recovered, -and had given the best account he could of himself, was passed to his -parish in London. The relieving officer, he said, would have given him -a pair of shoes and half-a-crown, and let him “take his chance, but -the doctor wouldn’t sartify any ways.” He meant, I think, that the -medical officer found him too ill to be at large on his own account. -He discharged himself, however, in a few weeks from this parish -workhouse, as he was convalescent. “The grub there, you see, sir,” he -said, “was stunning good when I first went, but it fell off.” As the -probability is that there was no change in the diet, it may not be -unfair to conclude that the regular meals of the establishment were -very relishable at first, and that afterwards their very regularity and -their little variation made the recipient critical. - -“When I left, sir,” he stated, “they guv me 2_s._ 6_d._, and a tidy -shirt, and a pair of blucherers, and mended up my togs for me decent. -I tried all sorts of goes then. I went to Chalk-farm and some other -fairs with sticks for throwing, and used to jump among them as throwing -was going on, and to sing out, ‘break my legs and miss my pegs.’ I got -many a knock, and when I did, oh! there _was_ such larfing at the fun -on it. I sold garden sticks too, and garden ropes, and posts sometimes; -but it was all wery poor pay. Sometimes I made 10_d._, but not never -I think but twice 1_s._ a day at it, and oftener 6_d._, and in bad -weather there was nothink to be done. If I made 6_d._ clear, it was -1_d._ for cawfee--for I often went out fasting in a morning--and 1_d._ -for bread and butter, and 1_d._ for pudden for dinner, and another -1_d._ perhaps for beer--half-pint and a farden out at the public -bar--and 2_d._ for a night’s lodging. I’ve had sometimes to leave half -my stock in flue with a deputy for a night’s rest. O, I didn’t much -mind the bugs, so I could rest; and next day had to take my things out -if I could, and pay a hexter ha’penny or penny, for hintrest, like. -Yes, I’ve made 18_d._ a hevening at a fair; but there’s so many a -going it there that one ruins another, and wet weather ruins the whole -biling, the pawillion, theaytres and all. I never was a hactor, never; -but I’ve thought sometimes I’d like to try my hand at it. I may some -day, ’cause I’m tall. I was forced to go to the parish again, for I -got ill and dreadful weak, and then they guv me work on the roads. I -can’t just say how long it’s since, two or three year perhaps, but I -had 9_d._ a day at first, and reglar work, and then three days and -three loaves a week, and then three days and no loaves. I haven’t been -at it werry lately. I’ve rayther taken the summer out of myself, but -I must go back soon, for cold weather’s a coming. Vy, I lived a good -deal on carrying trunks from the busses to Euston Railway; a good -many busses stops in the New-road, in the middle of the square. Some -was foreigners, and they was werry scaly. No, I never said nothink -but once, ven I got two French ha’pennies for carrying a heavy old -leather thing, like a coach box, as seemed to belong to a family; and -then the railway bobbies made me hold my tongue. I jobbed about in -other places too, but the time’s gone by now. O, I had a deal to put -up with last winter. What is 9_d._ a day for three days? and if poor -men had their rights, times ’ud be different. I’d like to know where -all the money goes. I never counted how many parish sweepers there -was; too many by arf. I’ve a rights to work, and it’s as little as a -parish can do to find it. I pay 1_s._ a week for half a bed, and not -half enough bed-clothes; but me and Jack Smith sometimes sleeps in our -clothes, and sometimes spreads ’em o’ top. No, poor Jack, he hasn’t no -hold on a parish; he’s a mud-lark and a gatherer [bone-grubber]. Do -I like the overseers and the parish officers? In course not, nobody -does. Why don’t they? Well, how can they? that’s just where it is. Ven -I haven’t been at sweeping, I’ve staid in bed as long as I was let; -but Mother B.--I don’t know no other name she has--wouldn’t stand it -after ten. O no, it wern’t a common lodging-house, a sort of private -lodging-house perhaps, where you took by the week. If I made nothink -but my ninepences, I lived on bread and cawfee, or bread and coker, -and sometimes a red herring, and I’ve bought ’em in the Brill at five -and six a penny. Mother B. charged 1/2_d._ for leave to toast ’em on -her gridiron. She _is_ a scaly old ----. _I’ve oft spent all my money -in a tripe supper at night, and fasted all next day._ I used to walk -about and look in at the cook-shop windows, and try for a job next -day. _I’d have gone five miles for anybody for a penn’orth of pudden._ -No, I never thought of making away with myself; never. Nor I never -thought of going for a soldier; _it wouldn’t suit me to be tied so_. -What I want is this here--regular work and no jaw. O, I’m sometimes as -miserable as hunger’ll make a parson, if ever he felt it. Yes, I go to -church sometimes when I’m at work for the parish, if I’m at all togged. -No doubt I shall die in the workus. You see there’s nobody in the world -cares for me. I can’t tell just how I spend my money; just as it comes -into my head. No, I don’t care about drinking; it don’t agree with me; -but there’s some can live on it. I don’t think as I shall ever marry, -though who knows?” - -The third and last system of parish work is where the labourer is -employed regularly, and paid a fixed wage, out of the parochial fund -certainly, but not in the same manner as the paupers are paid, nor with -any payment in kind (as in loaves), but all in money. The payment in -this wise is usually 1_s._ 6_d._ a day, and, but for such employment, -the poor so employed, would, in most instances, apply for relief. - -In one parish, where the poor are regularly employed in street -sweeping, and paid a regular wage in money, the whole scavaging work is -done by the paupers, as they are usually termed, though they are not -“on the rate.” By them the streets are swept and the houses dusted, -the granite broken for macadamization, and the streets and roads -repaved or repaired. This is done by about 50 men, the labour in the -different departments I have specified being about equally apportioned -as to the number employed in each. The work is executed without any -direct intervention of the parish officers employed in administering -_relief_ to the poor, but through the agency of a board. All the men, -however, are the poor of the parish, and but for this employment would -or might claim relief, or demand admittance with their families into -the workhouse. The system, therefore, is one of indirect pauper labour. -Nearly all the men have been unskilled labourers, the exception being -now and then a few operatives in such handicrafts as were suffering -from the dearth of employment. Some of the artizans, I was informed, -would be earning their 9_s._ in the stone-yard one week, and the next -getting 30_s._ at their business. The men thus labouring for the parish -are about three-fifths Irishmen, a fifth Welchmen, or rather more than -a fifth, and the remainder Englishmen. There is not a single Scotchman -among them. - -There is no difference, in the parish I allude to, between the wages -of married and single men, but men with families are usually preferred -among the applicants for such work. They all reside in their own rooms, -or sometimes in lodging-houses, but this rests with themselves. - -I had the following account from a heavy and healthy-looking -middle-aged man, dressed in a jacket and trousers of coarse corduroy. -There is so little distinctive about it, however, that I will not -consume space in presenting it in the narrative form in which I noted -it down. It may suffice that the man seemed to have little recollection -as to the past, and less care as to the future. His life, from all -I could learn from him, had been spent in what may be called menial -labour, as the servant, not of an individual, but of a parish; but -there was nothing, he knew of, that he had to thank anybody for--parish -or any one. They wanted _him_ and he wanted _them_. On my asking him if -he had never tried to “better himself,” he said that he _had_ once as a -navvy, but a blow on the head and eye, from a portion of rock shivered -by his pick-axe, disabled him for awhile, and he left railway work. -He went to church, as was expected of him, and he and his wife liked -it. He had forgotten how to read, but never was “a dab at it,” and -so “didn’t know nothing about the litany or the psalms.” He couldn’t -say as he knew any difference between the Church of England and the -Roman Catholic church-goers, “cause the one was a English and the t’ -other a Irish religion,” and he “wasn’t to be expected to understand -Irish religion.” He saw no necessity to put by money (this he said -hesitatingly), supposing he could; what was his parish for? and he -would take care he didn’t lose his settlement. If he’d ever had such a -chance as some had he might have saved money, but he never had. He had -no family, and his wife earned about 4_s._ a week, but not every week, -in a wool warehouse, and they did middling. - -The above, then, are the modes in which paupers, or imminent paupers, -so to speak, are employed, and in one way or other are _paid_ for their -labour, or what is called paid, and who, although parish menials, still -reside in their own abodes, with the opportunity, such as it is, of -“looking out” for better employment. - -As to the _moral qualities of the street-sweeping paupers_ I do not -know that they differ from those of paupers generally. All men who feel -themselves sunk into compulsory labour and a degraded condition are -dissatisfied, and eager to throw the blame of their degradation from -their own shoulders. But it is evident that these men are unwilling -workers, because their work is deprived of its just reward; and -although I did not hear of any difficulty being experienced in getting -them to work, I was assured by many who knew them well, that they do -not go about it with any alertness. Did any one ever hear a pauper -whistle or sing at his street-work? I believe that every experienced -vestryman will agree to the truth of the statement that it is very -rarely a confirmed pauper rises from his degradation. His thoughts -and aspirations seem bounded by the workhouse and the parish. The -reason appears to be because the workhouse authorities seek rather to -degrade than to elevate the man, resorting to every means of shaming -the pauper, until at last he becomes so utterly callous to the disgrace -of pauperism that he does not care to alter his position. The system, -too, adopted by the parish authorities of not paying for work, or -paying less than the ordinary prices of the trade, causes the pauper -labourers to be unwilling workers; and finding that industry brings -no reward, or less than its fair reward, to them, they get to hate -all work, and to grow up habitual burdens on the State. Crabbe, the -poet, who in all questions of borough and parish life is an authority, -makes his workhouse boy, Dick Monday, who when a boy got more kicks -than halfpence, die Sir Richard Monday, of Monday-place; but this is a -flight on the wings of poetical licence; certainly not impossible, and -that is all which can be said for its likelihood. - -The following remarks on the payment of the parish street-sweepers are -from one of Mr. Cochrane’s publications:-- - -“The council considers it a duty to the poor to touch upon the -niggardly manner in which parish scavengers are generally paid, and -the deplorable and emaciated condition which they usually present, -with regard to their clothing and personal appearance. One contractor -pays 16_s._ 6_d._ per week; 2 pay 16_s._; 12 (including a Highway -Board) pay 15_s._ each; 1 pays 14_s._ 6_d._; 2 pay 14_s._; and 1 pays -so low as 12_s._ On the other hand, five parish boards of ‘guardians -of the poor,’ pay only 9_s._ each, to their miserable mud-larks; one -pays 8_s._; another 7_s._ 5_d._; a third 7_s._; a fourth compensates -its labourers--in the British metropolis, where rent and living are -necessarily higher than elsewhere--with 5_s._ 8_d._ per week! whilst -a fifth pays 3 men 15_s._ each, 12 men 10_s._ each, and 6 men 7_s._ -6_d._ each, for exactly the same kind of work!!! But what renders this -mean torture of men (because they happen to be poor) absurd as well -as cruel, are the anomalous facts, that whilst the guardians of one -parish pay 5 men 7_s._ each, the contractor for another part of the -same parish, pays his 4 men 14_s._ each;--and whilst the guardians of -a second parish pay only 5_s._ 8_d._, the Highway Board pays 15_s._ -to each of its labourers, for performing exactly the same work in the -same district!--Mr. Darke, scavenging contractor of Paddington, lately -stated that he never had, and never would, employ any man at less -than 16_s._ or 18_s._ per week;--and Mr. Sinnott, of Belvidere-road, -Lambeth, about three months since, offered to certain West-End -guardians, to take 40 paupers out of their own workhouse to cleanse -their own parish, on the street-orderly system;--and to pay them -15_s._ per week each man[25]; but the economical guardians preferred -filth and a full workhouse, to cleanliness, Christian charity, and -common sense;--and so the proposal of this considerate contractor -was rejected! It is certainly far from being creditable to boards of -gentlemen and wealthy tradesmen who manage parish affairs, to pay -little more than one-half the wages that an individual does, to poor -labourers who cannot choose their employment or their masters.... - -“The broken-down tradesman, the journeyman deprived of his usual work -by panic or by poverty of the times, the ingenious mechanic, or the -unsuccessful artist, applies at the parish labour-market for leave -to live by other labour than that which hitherto maintained him in -comfort.... The usual language of such persons, even when applying for -private alms or parochial relief, is, not that they want money, but -‘that they have long been out of work;’ ‘that their particular trade -has been overstocked with apprentices, or superseded by machinery;’ or, -‘that their late employer has become bankrupt, or has discharged the -majority of his hands from the badness of the times.’ To a man of this -class, the guardian of the poor replies, ‘We will test your willingness -to labour, by employing you in the stone-yard, or to sweep the streets; -but the parish being heavily burthened with rates, we cannot afford -more than 7_s._ or 8_s._ a week.’ The poor creature, conscious of his -own helplessness, accepts the miserable pittance, in order to preserve -himself and family from immediate starvation.... - -“The council has taken much pains to ascertain the wages, and mode of -expenditure of them, by this uncared-for, and almost pariah, class -of labourers throughout the metropolitan parishes; and it possesses -undeniable proofs, that few possess any further garment than the rags -upon their backs; some being even without a change of linen; that they -never enter a place of worship, on account of their want of decent -clothing; that their wives and children are starved and in rags, and -the latter without the least education; that they never by any chance -taste fresh animal food; that one-third of their hard earnings is paid -for rent; and that their only sustenance (unless their wives happen to -go out washing or charing), consists of bread, potatoes, coarse tea -without milk or sugar, a salt herring two or three times a week, and -a slice of rusty bacon on Sunday morning! The meal called dinner they -never know; their only refection being breakfast and ‘tea:’ beer they -do not taste from year’s end to year’s end; and any other luxury, or -even necessary, is out of the question. - -“Of the 21 scavengers employed by St. James’s parish in 1850, no less -than 16,” says Mr. Cochrane’s report, “were married, with from one to -four children each. How the poor creatures who receive but 7_s._ 6_d._ -a week support their families, is best known to themselves.” - -Let me now, in conclusion, endeavour to arrive at a rough estimate -as to the sum of which the pauper labours annually are mulct by the -before-mentioned rates of remuneration, estimating their labour at the -market value or amount paid by the honourable contractors, viz. 16_s._ -a week; for if private individuals can afford to pay that wage, and yet -reap a profit out of the transaction, the guardians of the poor surely -could and should pay the same prices, and not avail themselves of -starving men’s necessities to reduce the wages of a trade to the very -quick of subsistence. If it be a sound principle that the condition -of the pauper should be rendered _less_ desirable than that of the -labourer, assuredly the principle is equally sound that the condition -of the labourer should be made _more_ desirable than that of the -pauper; for if to pamper the pauper be to make indolence more agreeable -than industry, certainly to grind down the wages of the labourer is to -render industry as unprofitable as indolence. In either case the same -premium is proffered to pauperism. As yet the Poor-Law Commissioners -have seen but one way of reducing the poor-rates, viz., by rendering -the state of the pauper as _unenviable_ as possible, and they have -wholly lost sight of the other mode of attaining the same end, viz., -by making the state of the labourer as _desirable_ as possible. To -institute a terrible poor law without maintaining an attractive form of -industry, is to hold out a boon to crime. If the wages of the working -man are to be reduced to bare subsistence, and the condition of the -pauper is to be rendered worse than that of the working man, what -atrocities will not be committed upon the poor. Elevate the condition -of the labourer, and there will be no necessity to depress the pauper. -Make work more attractive by increasing the reward for it, and laziness -will necessarily become more repulsive. As it is, however, the pauper -is not only kept at the very lowest point of subsistence, but his -half-starved labour is brought into competition with that of men living -in a comparative state of comfort; and the result, of course, is, that -instead of decreasing the number of paupers or poor-rates, we make -paupers of our labourers, and fill our workhouses by such means. If -a scavager’s labour be worth from 12_s._ to 15_s._ per week in the -market, what moral right have the _guardians of the poor_ to pay 5_s._ -8_d._ for the same commodity? If the paupers are set to do work which -is fairly worth 15_s._, then to pay them little more than one-third of -the regular value is not only to make unwilling workers of the paupers, -but to drag down all the better workmen to the level of the worst. - -It may be estimated that the outlay on pauper labour, as a whole, after -deducting the sum paid to superintendents and gangers, does not exceed -10_s._ weekly per individual; consequently the lowering of the price of -labour is in this ratio: There are now, in round numbers, 450 pauper -scavagers in the metropolis, and the account stands thus:-- - - Yearly. - 450 scavagers, at the regular - weekly wages of 16_s._ each £18,710 - 450 pauper labourers, 10_s._ each - weekly 11,700 - ------- - Lower price of pauper work £7,020 - -Hence we see, that the great scurf employers of the scavagers, after -all, are the guardians of the poor, compared with whom the most -grasping contractor is a model of liberality. - -That the minimum of remuneration paid by the parishes has tended, -and is tending more and more, to the general depreciation of wages -in the scavaging trade, there is no doubt. It has done so directly -and indirectly. One man, who had been a last-maker, told me that he -left his employment as a London scavager, for he had “come down to -the parish,” and set off at the close of the summer into Kent for the -harvest and hopping, for, when in the country, he had been more -used to agricultural labour than to last, clog, or patten making. -He considered that he had not been successful; still he returned to -London a richer man by 26_s._ 6_d._ Nearly 20_s._ of this soon went for -shoes and necessary clothing, and to pay some arrears of rent, and a -chandler’s bill he owed, after which he could be trusted again where he -was known. He applied to the foreman of a contractor, whom he knew, for -work. “What wage?” said the foreman. “Fifteen shillings a week,” was -the reply. “Why, what did you get from the parish for sweeping?” “Nine -shillings.” “Well,” said the foreman, “I know you’re a decent man, and -you were recommended before, and so I _can_ give you four or five days -a week at 2_s._ 4_d._ a day, and no nonsense about hours; _for you know -yourself I can get 50 men as have been parish workers at 1s. 9d. a day, -and jump at it, and so you mustn’t be cheeky_.” The man closed with the -offer, knowing that the foreman spoke the truth. - -A contractor told me that he could obtain “plenty of hands,” used to -parish scavaging work, at 10_s._ 6_d._ to 12_s._ a week, whereas he -paid 16_s._ - -It is evident, then, that the system of pauper work in scavaging has -created an increasing market for cheap and deteriorated labour, a -market including hundreds of the unemployed at other unskilled labours; -and it is hardly to be doubted that the many who have faith in the -doctrine that it is the best policy to buy in the cheapest and sell in -the dearest market, will avail themselves of the low-priced labour of -this pauper-constituted mart. - -It is but right to add, that those parishes which pay 15_s._ a week -are as worthy of commendation as those which pay 9_s._, 7_s._ 6_d._ -and 7_s._ per week, and 1_s._ 4_d._ and 1_s._ 1-1/2_d._ a day are -reprehensible; and, unfortunately, the latter have a tendency to -regulate all the others. - - -OF THE STREET-ORDERLIES. - -This constitutes the last of the four varieties of labour employed in -the cleansing of the public thoroughfares of London. I have already -treated of the self-supporting manual labour, the self-supporting -machine labour, and the pauper labour, and now proceed to the -consideration of the philanthropic labour of the streets. - -In the first place, let us understand clearly what is meant by -philanthropic labour, and how it is distinguished from pauper labour on -the one hand, and self-supporting labour on the other. Self-supporting -labour I take to be that form of work which returns not less, and -generally something more, than is expended upon it. Pauper labour, -on the other hand, is work to which the applicants for parish relief -are “set,” not with a view to the profit to be derived from it, but -partly as a test of their willingness to work, and partly as a means -of employing the unemployed; while philanthropic labour is employment -provided for the unemployed with the same disregard of profit as -distinguishes pauper labour, but with a greater regard for the poor, -and as a means of affording them relief in a less degrading manner -than is done under the present Poor Law. Pauper and philanthropic -labour, then, differ essentially from self-supporting labour in being -_non-profitable_ modes of employment; that is to say, they yield so -bare an equivalent for the sum expended upon the labourers, that -none, in the ordinary way of trade, can be found to provide the means -necessary for putting them into operation: while pauper labour differs -from philanthropic labour, in the fact that the funds requisite for -“setting the poor on work” are provided by law as a matter of social -policy, whereas, in the case of philanthropic labour, the funds, -or a part of them, are supplied by voluntary contributions, out of -a desire to improve the labourers’ condition. There are, then, two -distinguishing features in all philanthropic labour--the one is, that -it yields no profit (if it did it would become a matter of trade), and -the other, that it is instituted and maintained from a wish to benefit -the labourer. - -[Illustration: STREET ORDERLIES.] - -The Street-Orderly system forms part of the operations on behalf of -the poor adopted by a society, of which Mr. Charles Cochrane is the -president, entitled the “National Philanthropic Association,” which is -said to have for its object “the promotion of social and salutiferous -improvements, street cleanliness, and the employment of the poor, so -that able-bodied men may be prevented from burthening the parish-rate, -and preserved independent of workhouse, alms, and degradation.” Here a -twofold object is expressed: the Philanthropic Association seeks not -only to benefit the poor by giving them employment, and “preserving -them independent of workhouse, alms, and degradation,” but to benefit -the public likewise, by “promoting social and salutiferous improvements -and street cleanliness.” I shall deal with each of these objects -separately; but first let me declare, so as to remove all suspicion -of private feelings tending in any way to bias my judgment in this -most important matter, that I am an utter stranger to the President -and Council of the Philanthropic Association; and that, whatever I may -have to say on the subject of the street-orderlies, I do simply in -conformity with my duty to the public--to state truthfully all that -concerns the labourers and the poor of the metropolis. - -_Viewed economically, philanthropic and pauper work may be said to be -the regulators of the minimum rate of wages_--establishing the lowest -point to which competition can possibly drive down the remuneration -for labour; for it is evident, that if the self-supporting labourer -cannot obtain greater comforts by the independent exercise of his -industry than the parish rates or private charity will afford him, he -will at once give over working for the trading employer, and declare -on the funds raised by assessment or voluntary subscription for his -support. Hence, those who wish well to the labourer, and who believe -that cheapness of commodities is desirable “only,” as Mr. Stewart -Mill says (p. 502, vol. ii.), “when the cause of it is, that their -production costs little labour, and not when occasioned by that -labour’s being ill-remunerated;” and who believe, moreover, that -the labourer is to be benefited solely by the cultivation of a high -standard of comfort among the people--to such, I say, it is evident, -that a poor law which reduces the relief to able-bodied labourers -to the smallest modicum of food consistent with the continuation of -life must be about the greatest curse that can possibly come upon -an over-populated country, admitting, as it does, of the reduction -of wages to so low a point of mere brutal existence as to induce -that recklessness and improvidence among the poor which is known to -give so strong an impetus to the increase of the people. A minimized -rate of parish relief is necessarily a minimized rate of wages, and -admits of the labourers’ pay being reduced, by pauper competition, to -little short of starvation; and such, doubtlessly, would have been -the case long ago in the scavaging trade by the employment of parish -labour, had not the Philanthropic Association instituted the system of -street-orderlies, and by the payment of a higher rate of wages than the -more grinding parishes afforded--by giving the men 12_s._ instead of -9_s._ or even 7_s._ a week--prevented the remuneration of the regular -hands being dragged down to an approximation to the parish level. -Hence, rightly viewed, philanthropic labour--and, indeed, pauper labour -too--comes under the head of a remedy for low wages, as preventing, if -properly regulated, the undue depreciation of industry from excessive -competition, and it is in this light that I shall now proceed to -consider it. - -The several plans that have been propounded from time to time, as -remedies for an insufficient rate of remuneration for work, are as -multifarious as the circumstances influencing the three requisites -for production--labour, capital, and land. I will here run over as -briefly as possible--abstaining from the expression of all opinion on -the subject--the various schemes which have been proposed with this -object, so that the reader may come as prepared as possible to the -consideration of the matter. - -The remedies for low wages may be arranged into two distinct groups, -viz., those which seek to increase the labourer’s rate of pay -_directly_, and those which seek to do so _indirectly_. - -The _direct_ remedies for low wages that have been propounded are:-- - - A. _The establishment of a standard rate of remuneration for labour._ - This has been proposed to be brought about by three different means, - viz.:-- - - 1. By law or government authority; either (_a_) fixing the minimum - rate of wages, and leaving the variations above that point to be - adjusted by competition (this, as we have seen, is the effect of the - poor-law); or, (_b_) settling the rate of wages generally by means - of local boards of trade for _conseils de prud’hommes_, consisting - of delegates from the workmen and employers, to determine, by the - principles of natural equity, a _reasonable_ scale of remuneration in - the several trades, their decision being binding in law on both the - employers and the employed. - - 2. By public opinion; this has been generally proposed by those - who are what Mr. Mill terms “shy of admitting the interference of - authority in contracts for labour,” fearing that if the law intervened - it would do so rashly and ignorantly, and desiring to compass by - _moral_ sanction what they consider useless or dangerous to attempt - to bring about by _legal_ means. “Every employer,” says Mr. Mill, - “they think, _ought_ to give _sufficient wages_,” and if he does not - give such wages willingly, he should be compelled to do so by public - opinion. - - 3. By trade societies or combination among the workmen; that is to - say, by the payment of a small sum per week out of the wages of the - workmen, towards the formation of a fund for the support of such of - their fellow operatives as may be out of employment, or refuse to work - for those employers who seek to give less than the standard rate of - wages established by the trade. - - B. _The prohibition of stoppages or deductions of all kinds from - the nominal wages of workmen._ This is principally the object of - the Anti-Truck Society, which seeks to obtain an Act of Parliament, - enjoining the payment in full of all wages. The stoppages or extortions - from workmen’s wages generally consist of:-- - - 1. Fines for real or pretended misconduct. - - 2. Rents for tools, frames, gas, and sometimes lodgings. - - 3. Sale of trade appliances (as trimmings, thread, &c.) at undue - prices. - - 4. Sale of food, drink, &c., at an exorbitant rate of profit. - - 5. Payment in public-houses; as the means of inducing the men to spend - a portion of their earnings in drink. - - 6. Deposit of money as security before taking out work; so that the - capital of the employer is increased without payment of interest to - the workpeople. - - C. _The institution of certain aids or additions to wages_; as-- - - 1. Perquisites or gratuities obtained from the public; as with - waiters, boxkeepers, coachmen, dustmen, vergers, and others. - - 2. Beer money, and other “allowances” to workmen. - - 3. Family work; or the co-operation of the wife and children as a - means of increasing the workman’s income. - - 4. Allotments of land, to be cultivated after the regular day’s labour. - - 5. The parish “allowance system,” or relief in aid of wages, as - practised under the old Poor Law. - - D. _The increase of the money value of wages_; by-- - - 1. Cheap food. - - 2. Cheap lodgings; through building improved dwellings for the poor, - and doing away with the profit of sub-letting. - - 3. Co-operative stores; or the “club system” of obtaining provisions - at wholesale prices. - - 4. The abolition of the payment of wages on Sunday morning, or at so - late an hour on the Saturday night as to prevent the labourer availing - himself of the Saturday’s market. - - 5. Teetotalism; as causing the men to spend nothing in fermented - drinks, and so leaving them more to spend on food. - -Such are the _direct_ modes of remedying low wages, viz., either by -preventing the price of labour itself falling below a certain standard; -prohibiting all stoppages from the pay of the labourer; instituting -certain aids or additions to such pay; or increasing the money value of -the ordinary wages by reducing the price of provisions. - -The _indirect_ modes of remedying low wages are of a far more complex -character. They consist of, first, the remedies propounded by political -economists, which are-- - - A. _The decrease of the number of labourers_; for gaining this end - several plans have been proposed, as-- - - 1. Checks against the increase of the population, for which the - following are the chief Malthusian proposals:-- - - _a._ Preventive checks for the hindrance of impregnation. - - _b._ Prohibition of early marriages among the poor. - - _c._ Increase of the standard of comfort, or requirements, among the - people; as a means of inducing prudence and restraint of the passions. - - _d._ Infanticide; as among the Chinese. - - 2. Emigration; as a means of draining off the surplus labourers. - - 3. Limitation of apprentices in skilled trades; as a means of - preventing the undue increase of particular occupations. This, however, - is advocated not by economists, but generally by operatives. - - 4. Prevention of family work; or the discouragement of the labour of - the wives and children of operatives. This, again, cannot be said to be - an “economist” remedy. - - B. _Increase of the circulating capital, or sum set aside for the - payment of the labourers._ - - 1. By government imposts. “Governments,” says Mr. Mill, “can create - additional industry by creating capital. They may lay on taxes, and - employ the amount productively.” This was the object of the original - Poor Law (43 Eliz.), which empowered the overseers of the poor to - “raise weekly, or otherwise, by taxation of every inhabitant, &c., - such sums of money as they shall require for providing a sufficient - stock of flax, hemp, wool, and other ware or stuff, to set the poor on - work.” - - 2. By the issue of paper money. The proposition of Mr. Jonathan - Duncan is, that the government should issue notes equivalent to - the taxation of the country, with the view of affording increased - employment to the poor; the people being set to work as it were upon - credit, in the same manner as the labourers were employed to build the - market-house at Guernsey. - - C. _The extension of the markets of the country_; by the abolition - of all restrictions on commerce, and the encouragement of the free - interchange of commodities, so that, by increasing the demand for our - products, we may be able to afford employment to an extra number of - producers. - -The above constitute what, with a few exceptions, may be termed, more -particularly, the “economist” remedies for low wages. - - D. _The regulation of the quantity of work done by each workman, or - the prevention of the undue economizing of labour._ For this end, - several means have been put forward. - - 1. The shortening the hours of labour, and abolition of Sunday-work. - - 2. Alteration of the mode of work; as the substitution of day-work for - piece-work, as a means of decreasing the stimulus to overwork. - - 3. Extension of the term of hiring; by the substitution of annual - engagements for daily or weekly hirings, with a view to the prevention - of “casual labour.” - - 4. Limitation of the number of hands employed by one capitalist; so as - to prevent the undue extension of “the large system of production.” - - 5. Taxation of machinery; with the object, not only of making it - contribute its quota to the revenue of the country, but of impeding - its undue increase. - - 6. The discountenance of every form of work that tends to the making - up of a greater quantity of materials with a less quantity of - labour; and consequently to the expenditure of a greater proportion - of the capital of the country on machinery or materials, and a - correspondingly less proportion on the labourers. - - E. _“Protective imposts,” or high import duties on such foreign - commodities as can be produced in this country_; with the view of - preventing the labour of the comparatively untaxed and uncivilized - foreigner being brought into competition with that of the taxed and - civilized producer at home. - - F. _“Financial reform,” or reduction of the taxation of the country_; - as enabling the home labourer the better to compete with the foreigner. - -The two latter proposals, and that of the extension of the markets, may -be said to seek to remedy low wages by expanding or circumscribing the -foreign trade of the country. - - G. _A different division of the proceeds of labour._ For this object - several schemes have been propounded:-- - - 1. The “tribute system” of wages; or payment of labour according to - the additional value which it confers on the materials on which it - operates. - - 2. The abolition of the middleman; whether “sweater,” “piece-master,” - “lumper,” or what not, coming between the employer and employed. - - 3. Co-operation; or joint-stock associations of labourers, with the - view of abolishing the profit of the capitalist employer. - - H. _A different mode of distributing the products of labour_; with the - view of abolishing the profit of the dealer, between the producer and - consumer--as co-operative stores, where the consumers club together for - the purchase of their goods directly of the producers. - - I. _A more general and equal division of the wealth of the country_: - for attaining this end there are but two known means:-- - - 1. Communism; or the abolition of all rights to individual property. - - 2. Agapism; or the voluntary sharing of individual possessions with - the less fortunate or successful members of the community. - -These remedies may, with a few exceptions (such as the tribute system -of wages, and the abolition of middlemen), be said to constitute the -socialist and communist schemes for the prevention of distress. - - J. _Creating additional employment for the poor_; and so removing the - surplus labour from the market. Two modes of effecting this have been - proposed:-- - - 1. Home colonization, or the cultivation of waste lands by the poor. - - 2. Orderlyism, or the employment of the poor in the promotion of - public cleanliness, and the increased sanitary condition of the - country. - - K. _The prevention of the enclosure of commons_; as the means of - enabling the poor to obtain gratuitous pasturage for their cattle. - - L. _The abolition of primogeniture_; with the view of dividing the land - among a greater number of individuals. - - M. _The holding of the land by the State_, and equal apportionment of - it among the poor. - - N. _Extension of the suffrage among the people_; and so allowing the - workman, as well as the capitalist and the landlord, to take part in - the formation of the laws of the country. For this purpose there are - two plans:-- - - 1. “The freehold-land movement,” which seeks to enable the people to - become proprietors of as much land as will, under the present law, - give them “a voice” in the country. - - 2. Chartism, or that which seeks to alter the law concerning the - election of members of Parliament, and to confer the right of voting - on every male of mature age, sound mind, and non-criminal character. - - O. _Cultivation of a higher moral and Christian character among the - people._ This form of remedy, which is advocated by many, is based on - the argument, that, without some mitigation of the “selfishness of the - times,” all other schemes for improving the condition of the people - will be either evaded by the cunning of the rich, or defeated by the - servility of the poor. - -The above I believe to be a full and fair statement of the several -plans that have been proposed, from time to time, for alleviating -the distress of the people. This enumeration is as comprehensive as -my knowledge will enable me to make it; and I have abstained from -all comment on the several schemes, so that the reader may have an -opportunity of impartially weighing the merits of each, and adopting -that, which in his own mind, seems best calculated to effect what, -after all, we every one desire--whether protectionist, economist, -free-trader, philanthropist, socialist, communist, or chartist--the -good of the country in which we live, and the people by whom we are -surrounded. - - * * * * * - -Now we have to deal here with that particular remedy for low wages or -distress which consists in creating additional employment for the poor, -and of which the street-orderly system is an example. - -The increase of employment for the poor was the main object of the -43 Eliz., for which purpose, as we have seen, the overseers of the -several parishes were empowered to raise a fund by assessments upon the -property of the rich, for providing “a sufficient stock of flax, hemp, -wool, and other ware or stuff, to set the poor on work.” But though -economists, to this day, tell us that “while, on the one hand, industry -is limited by capital, so, on the other, every increase of capital -gives, or is capable of giving, additional employment to industry, and -this without assignable limit,”[26] nevertheless the great difficulty -of carrying out the provisions of the original poor-law has consisted -in finding a market for the products of pauper labour, for the frequent -gluts in our manufactures are sufficient to teach us that it is one -thing to produce and another to dispose of the products; so that to -create additional employment for the poor something besides capital -is requisite: it is necessary either that they shall be engaged in -producing that which they themselves immediately consume, or that for -which the market admits of being extended. - -The two plans proposed for the employment of the poor, it will be seen, -consist (1) in the cultivation of waste lands; (2) in promoting public -cleanliness, and so increasing the sanitary condition of the country. -The first, it is evident, removes the objection of a market being -needed for the products of the labour of the poor, since it proposes -that their energies should be devoted to the production of the food -which they themselves consume; while the second seeks to create -additional employment in effecting that increased cleanliness which -more enlightened physiological views have not only made more desirable, -but taught us to be absolutely necessary to the health and enjoyment of -the community. - -The great impediment, however, to the profitable employment of the -poor, has generally been the unproductive or unavailing character -of pauper labour. This has been mainly owing to the fact that the -able-bodied who are deprived of employment are necessarily the lowest -grade of operatives; for, in the displacement of workmen, those are the -first discarded whose labour is found to be the least efficient, either -from a deficiency of skill, industry, or sobriety, so that pauper -labour is necessarily of the least productive character. - -Another great difficulty with the employment of the poor is, that the -idle, or those to whom work is more than usually irksome, require -a stronger inducement than ordinary to make them labour, and the -remuneration for parish work being necessarily less than for any other, -those who are pauperized through idleness (the most benevolent among -us must allow there are such) are naturally less than ever disposed -to labour when they become paupers. All pauper work, therefore, is -generally unproductive or unavailing, because it is either inexpert or -unwilling work. The labour of the in-door paupers, who receive only -their food for their pains, is necessarily of the same compulsory -character as slavery; while that of the out-door paupers, with the -remuneration often cut down to the lowest subsisting point, is scarcely -of a more willing or more availing kind. - -Owing to this general unproductiveness, (as well as the difficulty of -finding a field for the profitable employment of the unemployed poor,) -the labour of paupers has been for a long time past directed mainly to -the cleansing of the public thoroughfares. Still, from the degrading -nature of the occupation, and the small remuneration for the toil, -pauper labourers have been found to be such unwilling workers that many -parishes have long since given over employing their poor even in this -capacity, preferring to entrust the work to a contractor, with his paid -self-supporting operatives, instead. - -The founder of the Philanthropic Association appears to have been -fully aware of the two great difficulties besetting the profitable -employment of the poor, viz., (1) finding a field for the exercise of -their labours where they might be “set on work” with benefit to the -community, and without injury to the independent operatives already -engaged in the same occupation; and (2) overcoming the unwillingness, -and consequently the unavailingness, of pauper labour. - -The first difficulty Mr. Cochrane has endeavoured to obviate by taking -advantage of that growing desire for greater public cleanliness -which has arisen from the increased knowledge of the principles -governing the health of towns; and the second, by giving the men -12_s._ instead of 9_s._ or 7_s._ a week, or worse than all, 1_s._ -1-1/2_d._ and a quartern loaf a day for three days in the week, -and so not only augmenting the stimulus to work (for it should be -remembered that wages are to the human machine what the fire is to the -steam-engine), but preventing the undue depreciation of the labour -of the independent workman. He who discovers the means of increasing -the rewards of labour, is as great a friend to his race as he who -strives to depreciate them is the public enemy; and I do not hesitate -to confess, that I look upon Mr. Charles Cochrane as one of the -illustrious few who, in these days of unremunerated toil, and their -necessary concomitants--beggars and thieves, has come forward to help -the labourers of this country from their daily-increasing degradation. -His benevolence is of that enlightened order which seeks to extend -rather than destroy the self-trust of the poor, not only by creating -additional employment for them, but by rendering that employment less -repulsive. - -The means by which Mr. Cochrane has endeavoured to gain these ends -constitutes the system called Street-Orderlyism, which therefore admits -of being viewed in two distinct aspects--first, as a new mode of -improving “the health of towns,” and, secondly, as an improved method -of employing the poor. - -Concerning the first, I must confess that the system of scavaging or -cleansing the public thoroughfares pursued by the street-orderlies -assumes, when contemplated in a sanitary point of view, all the -importance and simplicity of a great discovery. It has been before -pointed out that this system consists not only in cleansing the -streets, but in _keeping_ them clean. By the street-orderly method -of scavaging, the thoroughfares are continually being cleansed, and -so never allowed to become dirty; whereas, by the ordinary method, -they are not cleansed _until_ they are dirty. Hence the two modes of -scavaging are diametrically opposed; under the one the streets are -cleansed as fast as dirtied, while under the other they are dirtied as -fast as cleansed; so that by the new system of scavaging the public -thoroughfares are maintained in a perpetual state of cleanliness, -whereas by the old they may be said to be kept in a continual state of -dirt. - -The street-orderly system of scavaging, however, is not only worthy of -high commendation as a more efficient means of gaining a particular -end--a simplification of a certain process--but it calls for our -highest praise as well for the end gained as for the means of gaining -it. If it be really a sound physiological principle, that the Creator -has made dirt offensive to every rightly-constituted mind, because it -is injurious to us, and so established in us an instinct, before we -could discover a reason, for removing all refuse from our presence, -it becomes, now that we have detected the cause of the feeling in us, -at once disgusting and irrational to allow the filth to accumulate -in our streets in front of our houses. If typhus, cholera, and other -pestilences are but divine punishments inflicted on us for the -infraction of that most kindly law by which the health of a people has -been made to depend on that which is naturally agreeable--cleanliness, -then our instinct for self-preservation should force us, even if our -sense of enjoyment would not lead us, to remove as fast as it is formed -what is at once as dangerous as it should be repulsive to our natures. -Sanitarily regarded, the cleansing of a town is one of the most -important objects that can engage the attention of its governors; the -removal of its refuse being quite as necessary for the continuance of -the existence of a people as the supply of their food. In the economy -of Nature there is no loss: this the great doctrine of waste and supply -has taught us; the detritus of one rock is the conglomerate of another; -the evaporation of the ocean is the source of the river; the poisonous -exhalations of animals the vital air of plants; and the refuse of man -and beasts the food of their food. The dust and cinders from our fires, -the “slops” from the washing of our houses, the excretions of our -bodies, the detritus and “surface-water” of our streets, have all their -offices to perform in the great scheme of creation; and if left to rot -and fust about us not only injure our health, but diminish the supplies -of our food. The filth of the thoroughfares of the metropolis forms, it -would appear, the staple manure of the market-gardens in the suburbs; -out of the London mud come the London cabbages: so that an improvement -in the scavaging of the metropolis tends not only to give the people -improved health, but improved vegetables; for that which is nothing -but a pestiferous muck-heap in the town becomes a vivifying garden -translated to the country. - -Dirt, however, is not only as prejudicial to our health and offensive -to our senses, when allowed to accumulate in our streets, as it is -beneficial to us when removed to our gardens,--but it is a most -expensive commodity to keep in front of our houses. It has been shown, -that the cost to the people of London, in the matter of extra washing -induced by defective scavaging, is at the least 1,000,000_l._ sterling -per annum (the Board of Health estimate it at 2,500,000_l._); and the -loss from extra wear and tear of clothes from brushing and scrubbing, -arising from the like cause, is about the same prodigious sum; while -the injury done to the furniture of private houses, and the goods -exposed for sale in shops, though impossible to be estimated--appears -to be something enormous: so that the loss from the defective scavaging -of the metropolis seems, at the lowest calculation, to amount to -several millions per annum; and hence it becomes of the highest -possible importance, economically as well as physiologically, that the -streets should be cleansed in the most effective manner. - -Now, that the street-orderly system is the only rational and -efficacious mode of street cleansing both theory and practice assure -us. To allow the filth to accumulate in the streets before any steps -are taken to remove it, is the same as if we were never to wash our -bodies until they were dirty--it is to be perpetually striving to cure -the disease, when with scarcely any more trouble we might prevent -it entirely. There is, indeed, the same difference between the new -and the old system of scavaging, as there is between a bad and a good -housewife: the one never cleaning her house until it is dirty, and the -other continually cleaning it, so as to prevent it being ever dirty. - -Hence it would appear, that the street-orderly system of scavaging -would be a great public benefit, even were there no other object -connected with it than the increased cleanliness of our streets; but -in a country like Great Britain, afflicted as it is with a surplus -population (no matter from what cause), that each day finds the -difficulty of obtaining work growing greater, the opening up of new -fields of employment for the poor is perhaps the greatest benefit that -can be conferred upon the nation. Without the discovery of such new -fields, “the setting the poor on work” is merely, as I have said, to -throw out of employment those who are already employed; it is not to -decrease, but really to increase, the evil of the times--to add to, -rather than diminish, the number of our paupers or our thieves. The -increase of employment in a nation, however, requires, not only a -corresponding increase of capital, but a like increase in the demand -or desire, as well as in the pecuniary means, of the people to avail -themselves of the work on which the poor are set (that is to say, in -the extension of the home market); it requires, also, some mode of -stimulating the energies of the workers, so as to make them labour -more willingly, and consequently more availingly, than usual. These -conditions appear to have been fulfilled by Mr. Cochrane, in the -establishment of the street-orderlies. He has introduced, in connection -with this body, a system of scavaging which, while it employs a greater -number of hands, produces such additional benefits as cannot but be -considered an equivalent for the increased expenditure; though it is -even doubtful whether, by the collection of the street manure unmixed -with the mud, the extra value of that article alone will not go far to -compensate for the additional expense; if, however, there be added to -this the saving to the metropolitan parishes in the cost of watering -the streets--for under the street-orderly system this is not required, -the dust never being allowed to accumulate, and consequently never -requiring to be “laid”--as well as the greater saving of converting the -paupers into self-supporting labourers; together with the diminished -expense of washing and doctors’ bills, consequent on the increased -cleanliness of the streets--there cannot be the least doubt that the -employment of the poor as street-orderlies is no longer a matter of -philanthropy, but of mere commercial prudence. - -Such appear to me to be the principal objects of Mr. Cochrane’s -street-orderly system of scavaging; and it is a subject upon which I -have spoken the more freely, because, being unacquainted with that -gentleman, none can suspect me of being prejudiced in his favour, and -because I have felt that the good which he has done and is likely to do -to the poor, has been comparatively unacknowledged by the public, and -that society and the people owe him a heavy debt of gratitude[27]. - -I shall now proceed to set forth the character of the labour, and the -condition and remuneration of the labourers in connection with the -street-orderly system of scavaging the metropolitan thoroughfares. - -The first appearance of the street-orderlies in the metropolis was in -1843. Mr. Charles Cochrane, who had previously formed the National -Philanthropic Association, with its eleemosynary soup-kitchens, &c., -then introduced the system of street-orderlies, as one enabling many -destitute men to support themselves by their labour; as well as, in -his estimation, a better, and eventually a more economical, mode of -street-cleansing, and partaking also somewhat of the character of a -street police. - -The first “demonstration,” or display of the street-orderly -system, took place in Regent-street, between the Quadrant and -the Regent-circus, and in Oxford-street, between Vere-street and -Charles-street. The streets were thoroughly swept in the morning, and -then each man or boy, provided with a hand-broom and dust-pan, removed -any dirt as soon as it was deposited. The demonstration was pronounced -highly successful and the system effective, in the opinion of eighteen -influential inhabitants of the locality who acted as a committee, and -who publicly, and with the authority of their names, testified their -conviction that “the most efficient means of keeping streets clean, and -more especially great thoroughfares, was to prevent the accumulation -of dirt, by removing the manure within a few minutes after it has been -deposited by the passing cattle; the same having, hitherto, remained -during several days.” - -The cost of this demonstration amounted to about 400_l._, of which, -the Report states, “200_l._ still remains due from the shop-keepers to -the Association; which,” it is delicately added, “from late commercial -difficulties they have not yet repaid” (in 1850). - -Whilst the street-orderlies were engaged in cleansing Regent-street, -&c., the City Commissioners of the sewers of London were invited to -depute some person to observe and report to them concerning the method -pursued; but with that instinctive sort of repugnance which seems to -animate the great bulk of city officials against improvement of any -kind, the reply was, that they “did not consider the same worthy their -attention.” The matter, however, was not allowed to drop, and by the -persevering efforts of Mr. Cochrane, the president, and of the body of -gentlemen who form the Council of the Association, Cheapside, Cornhill, -and the most important parts of the very heart of the city were at -length cleansed according to the new method. The ratepayers then showed -that _they_, at least, _did_ consider “the same worthy of attention,” -for 8000 out of 12,000 within a few days signed memorials recommending -the adoption of what they pronounced an improvement, and a public -meeting was held in Guildhall (May 4, 1846), at which resolutions in -favour of the street-orderly method were passed. The authorities did -not adopt these recommendations, but they ventured so far to depart -from their venerable routine as to order the streets to be “swept every -day!” This employed upwards of 300 men, whereas at the period when the -sages of the city sewers did not consider any proposed improvement in -scavagery worthy their attention, the number of men employed by them in -cleansing the streets did not exceed 30. - -The street-orderly system was afterwards tried in the parishes of St. -Paul, Covent-garden, St. James (Westminster), St. Martin-in-the-Fields, -St. Anne, Soho, and others--sometimes calling forth opposition, of -course from the authorities connected with the established modes of -paving, scavaging, &c. - -It is not my intention to write a complete history of the -street-orderlies, but merely to sketch their progress, as well as -describe their peculiar characteristics. - -Within these few months public meetings have been held in almost every -one of the 26 wards of the City, at which approving resolutions were -either passed unanimously or carried by large majorities; and the -street-orderly system is now about to be introduced into St. Martin’s -parish instead of the street-sweeping machine. - -As far as the street-orderly system has been tried, and judging only by -the testimony of public examination and public record of opinion, the -trial has certainly been a success. A memorial to the Court of Sewers, -from the ward of Broad-street, supported by the leading merchants of -that locality, in recommendation of the employment of street-orderlies, -seems to bear more closely on the subject than any I have yet seen. - -“Your memorialists,” they state, “have observed that those public -thoroughfares within the city of London which are now cleansed by -street-orderlies, _are so remarkably clean_ as to be _almost free from -mud in wet, and dust in dry weather_--that _such extreme cleanliness -is of great comfort to the public_, and tends to improve the sanitary -condition of the ward.” - -But it is not only in the metropolis that the street-orderlies seem -likely to become the established scavagers. The streets of Windsor, I -am informed, are now in the course of being cleansed upon the orderly -plan. In Amsterdam, there are at present 16 orderlies regularly -employed upon scavaging a portion of the city, and in Paris and -Belgium, I am assured, arrangements are being made for the introduction -of the system into both those cities. Were the street-orderly mode of -scavaging to become general throughout this country, it is estimated -that employment would be given to 100,000 labourers, so that, with the -families of these men, not less than half a million of people would be -supported in a state of independence by it. The total number of adult -able-bodied paupers relieved--in-door and out-door--throughout England -and Wales, on January 1, 1850, was 154,525. - -The following table shows the route of the street-orderly operations in -the metropolis. A further column, in the Report from which the table -has been extracted, contained the names of thirteen clergymen who have -“weekly read prayers and delivered discourses to the street-orderlies -at their respective stations, and recorded flattering testimonials of -their conduct and demeanour.” - - -EMPLOYMENT OF STREET-ORDERLIES. - - ---------------------------------------------------+------------+-----------+----------------- - | No. of | Wives and | - LOCALITIES CLEANSED. | Street- | Children | Money - | Orderlies. | dependent.| expended. - ---------------------------------------------------+------------+-----------+----------------- - | | | £ _s._ _d._ - 1843-4. Oxford and Regent Streets | 50 | 256 | 560 0 0 - 1845. Strand | 8 | -- | 38 0 0 - 1845-6. Cheapside, Cornhill, &c., City of London | 100 | 363 | 1540 2 0 - 1846-7. St. Margaret’s and St. John’s, Westminster | 15 | 65 | 306 0 0 - 1847. Piccadilly, St. James’s, &c. | 8 | 32 | 115 0 0 - 1848. Strand | 8 | 31 | 35 0 0 - 1848. St. Martin’s Lane, &c. | 38 | 138 | 153 0 0 - 1848. Piccadilly, St. James’s, &c. | 48 | 108 | 341 3 0 - 1848-9. St. Paul’s, Covent Garden | 13 | 38 | 38 10 0 - 1849. Regent Street, Whitehall, &c. | 18 | 68 | 98 0 0 - 1849. St. Giles’s and St. George’s, Bloomsbury | 14 | 71 | 58 1 0 - 1849. St. Pancras, New Road, &c. | 16 | 46 | 177 6 0 - 1849. St. Andrew’s and St. George’s, Holborn | 23 | 83 | 63 4 9 - 1849. Lambeth Parish | 16 | 41 | 84 16 0 - 1851. St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields | 68 | 179 | 119 3 4 - 1851. City of London, Central Districts (per | | | - week, during 6 weeks last past) | 103 | 378 | 55 0 0 - ---------------------------------------------------+------------+-----------+----------------- - Total | 546 | 1897 | 3782 6 1 - ---------------------------------------------------+------------+-----------+----------------- - -The period of nine years comprised in the above statement (1843 and -1851 being both included) gives a yearly average, as to the number of -the poor employed, exceeding 60, with a similar average of 210 wives -and children, and a yearly average outlay of 420_l._ The number of -orderlies now employed by the Association is from 80 to 90. - - * * * * * - -Such, then, is a brief account of the rise and progress of this new -mode of street-sweeping, and we now come to a description of the work -itself. - -“The orderlies,” says the Report of the Association, “keep the streets -free from mud in winter, and dust in summer; and that with the least -possible personal drudgery:--adhering to the principle of operation -laid down, viz., that of ‘_Cleansing and keeping Clean_,’ they have -merely, after each morning’s sweeping and removal of dirt, to keep a -vigilant look-out over the surface of street allotted to them; and to -remove with the hand-brush and dust-pan, from any particular spot, -whatever dirt or rubbish may fall upon it, _at the moment of its -deposit_. Thus are the streets under their care kept constantly clean. - -“But sweeping and removing dirt,” continues the Report, “is not the -only occupation of the street-orderly, whilst keeping up a careful -inspection of the ground allotted to him. He is also the watchman -of house-property and shop-goods; the guardian of reticules, -pocket-books, purses, and watch-pockets;--the experienced observer -and detector of pickpockets; the ever ready, though unpaid, auxiliary -to the police constable. Nay, more;--he is always at hand, to render -assistance to both equestrian and pedestrian: if a horse slip, -stumble, or fall,--if a carriage break down, or vehicles come into -collision,--the street-orderly darts forward to raise and rectify -them: if foot-passengers be run over, or knocked down, or incautiously -loiter on a crossing, the street-orderly rescues them from peril or -death; or warns them of the approaching danger of carriages driving in -opposite directions: if other accidents befall pedestrians,--if they -fall on the pavement, from sudden illness, faintness, or apoplexy, -the street-orderly is at hand to render assistance, or convey them -to the nearest surgery or hospital. If strangers are at fault as to -the localities of London, or the place of their destination, the -orderly, in a civil and respectful manner, directs them on their way. -If habitual or professional mendicants are importunate or troublesome, -the street-orderly warns them off; or hands them to the care of -the policeman. And if a _really_ poor or starving fellow-creature -wanders in search of food or alms, he leads him to a workhouse or -soup-kitchen[28]. - -“_Should the system become general (of which there is now every -good prospect), it will be the means of rescuing no less than_ TEN -THOUSAND PERSONS _and their families from destitution and distress_ -(in London alone);--from the forlorn and wretched condition which -tempts to criminality and outrage, to that of comfort, independence, -and happiness--produced by their own industry, aided by the kind -consideration of those who are more the favourites of fortune than -themselves. - -“In conclusion it may be stated, that the street-orderly system will -keep the streets and pavements of London and Westminster as clean -as the court-yard and hall of any gentleman’s private dwelling: it -will not only secure the general comfort and health of upwards of two -millions of people, but save a vast annual amount to shopkeepers, -housekeepers, and others, with regard to the spoiling of their goods -by dust and dirt; in the wear and tear of clothes and furniture, by an -eternal round of brushing, dusting, scouring, and scrubbing.” - -The foregoing extract fully indicates the system pursued and results -of street-orderlyism. I will now deal with what may be considered _the -labour or trade part of the question_. - -By the street-orderly plan a district is duly apportioned. To one -man is assigned the care of a series of courts, a street, or 500, -1000, 1200, 1500, or 2000 yards of a public way, according to its -traffic, after the whole surface has been swept “the first thing in the -morning.” In Oxford-street, for instance, it has been estimated that -500 yards can be kept clear of the dirt continually being deposited by -one man; in the squares, where there is no great traffic, 2000 yards; -while in so busy a part as Cheapside, some nine men will be required to -be hourly on the look-out. These street-orderlies are confined to their -beats as strictly as are policeman, and as they soon become known to -the inhabitants, it is a means of checking any disposition to loiter, -or to shirk the work; to say nothing of the corps of inspectors and -superintendents. - -The _division of labour_ among the street-orderlies is as follows:-- - -1. The _foreman_, whose duty is to “look over the men” (one such -over-looker being employed to about every 20 men), and who receives -15_s._ per week. - -2. The _barrow-men_, or sweepers, consisting of men and boys; the -former receiving 12_s._ and the latter generally 7_s._ per week. - -The _tools and implements_ used, and their cost, are as -follows:--wooden scoops, to throw up the slop, 1_s._ 2_d._ each (they -used to be made of iron, weighing 8 lbs. each, but the men then -complained that the weight “broke their arms”); shovel, 2_s._ 3_d._; -hoe and scraper, 1_s._ 3_d._; hand-broom, 8_d._; scavager’s broom, -1_s._ 2_d._; barrow, 12_s._; covered barrow, 24_s._ - -In the amount of his receipts, the street-orderly appears to a -disadvantage, as many of the “regular hands” of the contractors receive -16_s._ weekly, and he but 12_s._ The reason for this circumscribed -payment I have already alluded to--the deficiency of funds to carry out -the full purposes of the Association. Contrasted with the remuneration -of the great majority of the pauper scavagers, the street-orderly is -in a state of comparative comfort, for he receives nearly double as -much as the Guardians of the Poor of Chelsea and the Liberty of the -Rolls pay their labourers, and full 25 per cent. more than is paid -by Bermondsey, Deptford, Marylebone, St. James’s, Westminster, St. -George’s, Hanover-square, and St. Andrew’s, Holborn; and, I am assured, -it is the intention of the Council to pay the full rate of wages given -by the more respectable scavagers, viz., 16_s._ a week each man. _If -traders can do this, philanthropists, who require no profit, at least -should be equally liberal._ The labourer never can be benefited by -depreciating the ordinary wages of his trade; and I must in justice -confess, that there are scattered throughout the Report repeated -regrets that the funds of the Association will not admit of a higher -rate of wages being paid. - -The street-orderly is not subjected to any fines or drawbacks, and -is paid always in money, every Saturday evening at the office of the -Association. In this respect, however, he does not differ from other -bodies of scavagers. - -The usual mode of obtaining employment among the street-orderlies -is by personal application at the office of the Association in -Leicester-square; but sometimes letters, well-penned and well-worded, -are addressed to the president. - -The daily number of applicants for employment is far from demonstrative -of that unbroken prosperity of the country, of which we hear so much. -On my inquiring into the number, I ascertained towards the end of -August, that, for the previous fortnight, during fine summer weather, -London being still full of the visitors to the Exhibition, on an -average 30 men, of nearly all conditions of life, applied personally -each day for work at street-sweeping, at 12_s._ a week. Certainly -this labour is not connected with the feeling of pauper degradation, -but it does not look well for the country that in twelve days 360 -men should apply for such work. On the year’s average, I am assured, -there are 30 applications daily, but only ten new applicants, as men -call to solicit an engagement again and again. Thus in the year there -are _nine thousand, three hundred, and ninety_ applications, and 3130 -individual applicants. In the course of one month last winter, there -were applications from 300 boys in Spitalfields alone, to be set to -work; and I am told, that had they been successful, 3000 lads would -have applied the next month. - -When an application is made by any one recommended by subscribers, &c., -to the Association, or where the case seems worthy of attention, the -names and addresses are entered in a book, with a slight sketch of the -circumstances of the person wishing to become a street-orderly, so that -inquiries may be made. I give a few of the more recent of these entries -and descriptions, which are really “histories in little”:-- - -“Thomas M’G----, aged 50, W-- L-- street, Chelsea Hospital, single man. -Taught a French and English school in Lyons, France. Driven out of -France at the Revolution of 1848. Penniless. - -“Rich. M----, 13, C---- street, H---- garden, 42 years. Married. Can -read and write. Has been a seaman in the royal service ten years. -Chairmaker by trade. Has jobbed as a porter in Rochester, Kent. - -“Phil. S----, 1, R-- L-- street, High Holborn. From Killarney, co. -Kerry. Bred a gardener. Fifteen years in constabulary force, for which -he has a character from Col. Macgregor, and received the compensation -of 50_l._, which he bestowed on his father and mother to keep them at -home. Nine months in England, viz., in Bristol, Bath, and London. Aged -35. Can read and write. - -“Edw. C----, 79, M---- street, Hackney. Aged 27. Married. -Army-pensioner, 6_d._ a day. Can read and write. Recommended by Rev. T. -Gibson, rector of Hackney. - -“Chas. J----, 11, D---- street, Chelsea. Aged 38. Gentleman’s servant.” - -In my account of the “regular hands” employed by the contracting -scavagers, I have stated that the street-orderlies were a more -miscellaneous body, as they had not been reared in the same proportion -to street work. They are also, I may add, a better-conducted and -better-informed class than the general run of unskilled labourers, as -they know, before applying for street-orderly work, that inquiries are -made concerning them, and that men of reprobate character will not be -employed. - -Many of those employed as orderlies have since returned to their -original employments; others have procured, and been recommended to, -superior situations in life to that of street-orderlies, by the Council -of the Association, but _no instance has occurred of any street-orderly -having returned back to his parish workhouse or stoneyard_. This -certainly looks well. - -One street-orderly, I may add, is now a reputable school-master, -and has been so for some time; another is a clerk under similar -circumstances. Another is a good theoretical and practical musician, -having officiated as organist in churches and at concerts; he is also a -neat music copyist. Another tells of his correspondence with a bishop -on theological topics. Another, with a long and well-cultured beard, -has been a model for artists. One had 150_l._ left to him not long -ago, which was soon spent; his wife spent it, he said, and then he -quietly applied to be permitted to be again a street-orderly. Several -have got engagements as seamen, their original calling--indeed, I am -assured, that a few months of street-orderly labour is looked upon as -an excellent ordeal of character, after which the Association affirms -good behaviour on the part of the employed. - -The subscribers to the funds not unfrequently recommend destitute -persons to the good offices of the Association, apart from their -employment as street-orderlies. Thus, it is only a few weeks ago, -that twelve Spanish refugees, none of them speaking English, were -recommended to the Association; one of them it was ultimately enabled -to establish as a waiter in an hotel resorted to by foreigners, another -as an interpreter, another as a gentleman’s servant, and another (with -a little boy, his son) in shoe-blacking in Leicester-square. - -Thus among street-orderlies are to be found a great diversity of career -in life, and what may be called adventures. - -One great advantage, however, which the orderly possesses over his -better paid brethren is in the greater probability of his “rising out -of the street.” This is very rarely the case with an ordinary scavager. - -I now give the following account from one of the street-orderlies, a -tall, soldierly-looking man:-- - -“I’m 42 now,” he said, “and when I was a boy and a young man I was -employed in the _Times_ machine office, but got into a bit of a row--a -bit of a street quarrel and frolic, and was called on to pay 3_l._, -something about a street-lamp: that was out of the question; and -as I was taking a walk in the park, not just knowing what I’d best -do, I met a recruiting sergeant, and enlisted on a sudden--all on a -sudden--in the 16th Lancers. When I came to the standard, though, I was -found a little bit too short. Well, I was rather frolicsome in those -days, I confess, and perhaps _had rather a turn for a roving life_, -so when the sergeant said he’d take me to the East India Company’s -recruiting sergeant, I consented, and was accepted at once. I was -taken to Calcutta, and served under General Nott all through the -Affghan war. I was in the East India Company’s artillery, 4th company -and 2nd battalion. Why, yes, sir, I saw a little of what you may call -‘service.’ I was at the fighting at Candahar, Bowlinglen, Bowling-pass, -Clatigillsy, Ghuznee, and Caboul. The first real warm work I was in -was at Candahar. I’ve heard young soldiers say that they’ve gone into -action the first time as merry as they would go to a play. Don’t -believe them, sir. Old soldiers will tell you quite different. You -_must_ feel queer and serious the first time you’re in action: it’s -not fear--it’s nervousness. The crack of the muskets at the first fire -you hear in real hard earnest is uncommon startling; you see the flash -of the fire from the enemy’s line, but very little else. Indeed, oft -enough you see nothing but smoke, and hear nothing but balls whistling -every side of you. And then you get excited, just as if you were at -a hunt; but after a little service--I can speak for myself, at any -rate--you go into action as you go to your dinner. - -[Illustration: THE ABLE-BODIED PAUPER STREET-SWEEPER. - -[_From a Daguerreotype by_ BEARD.]] - -“I served during the time when there was the Affghanistan retreat; -when the 44th was completely cut up, before any help could get up to -them. We suffered a good deal from want of sufficient food; but it -was nothing like so bad, at the very worst, as if you’re suffering in -London. In India, in that war time, if you suffered, you were along -with a number in just the same boat as yourself; and there’s always -something to hope for when you’re an army. It’s different if you’re -walking the streets of London by yourself--I felt it, sir, for a little -bit after my return--and if you haven’t a penny, you feel as if there -wasn’t a hope. If you have friends it may be different, but I had none. -It’s no comfort if you know hundreds are suffering as you are, for -you can’t help and cheer one another as soldiers can. - -“Well, sir, as I’ve told you, I saw a good deal of service all through -that war. Indeed I served thirteen years and four months, and was then -discharged on account of ill health. If I’d served eight months longer -that would have been fourteen years, and I should have been entitled -to a pension. I believe my illness was caused by the hardships I went -through in the campaigns, fighting and killing men that I never saw -before, and until I was in India had never heard of, and that I had no -ill-will to; certainly not, why should I? they never did me any wrong. -But when it comes to war, if you can’t kill them they’ll kill you. When -I got back to London I applied at the East India House for a pension, -but was refused. I hadn’t served my time, though that wasn’t my fault. - -“I then applied for work in the _Times_ machine office, and they -were kind enough to put me on. But I wasn’t master of the work, for -there was new machinery, wonderful machinery, and a many changes. So -I couldn’t be kept on, and was some time out of work, and very badly -off, as I’ve said before, and then I got work as a scavenger. O, I knew -nothing about sweeping before that. I’d never swept anything except -the snow in the north of India, which is quite a different sort of -thing to London dirt. But I very soon got into the way of it. I found -no difficulty about it, though some may pretend there is an art in it. -I had 15_s._ a week, and when I was no longer wanted I got employment -as a street-orderly. I never was married, and have only myself to -provide for. I’m satisfied that the street-orderly is far the best -plan for street-cleaning. Nothing else can touch it, in my opinion, -and I thought so before I was one of them, and I believe most working -scavengers think so now, though they mayn’t like to say so, for fear it -might go again their interest. - -“Oh, yes, I’m sometimes questioned by gentlemen that may be passing in -the streets while I’m at work, all about our system. They generally -say, ‘and a very good system, too.’ One said once, ‘It shows that -scavengers can be decent men; they weren’t when I was first in London, -above 40 years ago.’ Well, I sometimes get the price of a pint of beer -given to me by gentlemen making inquiries, but very seldom.” - -Until about eighteen months ago none but unmarried men were employed -by the Association, and these all resided in one locality, and under -one general superintendence or system. The boarding and lodging of the -men has, however, been discontinued about fifteen months; for I am -told it was found difficult to encourage industrial and self-reliant -pursuits in connection with public eleemosynary aid. Married men are -now employed, and all the street-orderlies reside at their own homes; -the adults, married or single, receiving 12_s._ a week each; the boys, -6_s._; while to each man is gratuitously supplied a blouse of blue -serge, costing 2_s._ 6_d._, and a glazed hat, costing the same amount. - -The system formerly adopted was as follows:-- - -The men were formed into a distinct body, and established in houses -taken for them in Ham-yard, Great Windmill-street, Haymarket. - -“The wages of the men,” states the Report, “were fixed at 12_s._ each -per week; that is, 9_s._ were charged for board and lodging, and 3_s._ -were paid in money to each man on Saturday afternoon, out of which he -was expected to pay for his clothing and washing. The men had provided -for them clean wholesome beds and bedding, a common sitting-room, with -every means of ablution and personal cleanliness, including a warm -bath once a week. Their food was abundant and of the best quality, -viz., coffee and bread and butter for breakfast, at eight o’clock; -round of beef, bread, and vegetables, four times a week for dinner, at -one o’clock; nutritious soup and bread, or bread and cheese, forming -the afternoon repast of the other three days. At six in the evening, -when they returned from their labours, they were refreshed with tea or -coffee, and bread and butter; or for supper, at nine, each had a large -basin of soup, with bread. Thus, three-fourths of their wages being -laid out for them to advantage, the men were well lodged and fed; and -they have always declared themselves satisfied, comfortable, and happy, -under the arrangements that were made for them. Under the charge of -their intelligent and active superintendent, the street-orderlies soon -fell into a state of the most exact discipline and order; and when -old orderlies were drafted off, either to enter the service of parish -boards who adopted the system, or were recommended into service, or -some other superior position in life, and when new recruits came to -supply their places, the latter found no difficulty in conforming to -the rules laid down for the performance of their duties, as well as for -their general conduct. ‘Military time’ regulated their hours of labour, -refreshment, and rest; due attention was required from all; and each -man (though a scavenger) was expected to be cleanly in his person, and -respectful in his demeanour; indeed, nothing could be more gratifying -than the conduct of these men, both at home and abroad.” - -“In their domicile in Ham Yard,” continues the Report, “the -street-orderlies have invariably been encouraged to follow pursuits -which were useful and improving, after their daily labours were at -an end; for this, a small library of history, voyages, travels, and -instructive and entertaining periodical works, was placed at their -disposal; and it is truly gratifying to the Council to be able to -state, that the men evinced great satisfaction, and even avidity, -in availing themselves of this source of intellectual pleasure and -improvement. Writing materials also were provided for them, for the -purpose of practice and improvement, as well as for mutual instruction -in this most necessary and useful art; and it must be gratifying to -the members of the Association to be informed, that, in April last, 34 -out of 40 men appended their signatures, distinctly and well written, -to a document which was submitted to them. Such a fact will at least -prove, that when poor persons are employed, well fed, and lodged, and -cared for in the way of instruction, they do not always mis-spend their -time, nor, from mere preference, run riot in pot-houses and scenes of -low debauchery. It is to be borne in mind, however, that one-half of -these men were persons of almost every trade and occupation, from the -artizan to the shopman and clerk, and therefore previously educated; -the other half consisted of labourers and persons forsaken and indigent -from their birth, and formerly dependent on workhouse charity or chance -employment for their scanty subsistence; consequently in a state of -utter ignorance as to reading and writing. - -“Every night, after supper, prayers were read by the superintendent; -and it has frequently been a most edifying as well as gratifying sight -to members of your Council, as well as to other persons of rank and -station in society, who have visited the Hospice in Ham Yard at that -interesting hour, to observe the decorum with which these poor men -demeaned themselves; and the heartfelt solemnity with which they joined -in the invocations and thanks to their Creator and Preserver! - -“Each Sunday morning, at 8 o’clock, a portion of the church service -was read, followed by an extemporaneous discourse or exhortation by -the secretary to the Hospice. They were marshalled to church twice on -the Sabbath, headed by the superintendent and foremen; and generally -divided into two or three bodies, each taking a direction to St. -James’s, St. Anne’s, or St. Paul’s, Covent Garden; in all of which -places of worship they had sitting accommodation provided by the -kindness of the clergy and churchwardens. On Tuesday evenings they had -the benefit of receiving pastoral visits and instruction from several -of the worthy clergymen of the surrounding parishes.” - -This is all very benevolent, but still very wrong. There is but one -way of benefiting the poor, viz., by developing their powers of -self-reliance, and certainly not in treating them like children. -Philanthropists always seek to do too much, and in this is to be found -the main cause of their repeated failures. The poor are expected to -become angels in an instant, and the consequence is, they are merely -made _hypocrites_. Moreover, no men of any independence of character -will submit to be washed, and dressed, and fed like schoolboys; -hence none but the worst classes come to be experimented upon. It -would seem, too, that this overweening disposition to play the part -of _ped-agogues_ (I use the word in its literal sense) to the poor, -proceeds rather from a love of power than from a sincere regard for the -people. Let the rich become the advisers and assistants of the poor, -giving them the benefit of their superior education and means--but -_leaving the people to act for themselves_--and they will do a great -good, developing in them a higher standard of comfort and moral -excellence, and so, by improving their tastes, inducing a necessary -change in their habits. But such as seek merely to _lord it_ over those -whom distress has placed in their power, and strive to bring about -the _villeinage_ of benevolence, making the people the philanthropic, -instead of the feudal, serfs of our nobles, should be denounced as the -arch-enemies of the country. Such persons may mean well, but assuredly -they achieve the worst towards the poor. The curfew-bell, whether -instituted by benevolence or tyranny, has the same degrading effect on -the people--destroying their principle of self-action, without which we -are all but as the beasts of the field. - -Moreover, the laying out of the earnings of the poor is sure, after a -time, to sink into “a job;” and I quote the above passage to show that, -despite the kindest management, eleemosynary help is _not_ a fitting -adjunct to the industrial toil of independent labourers. - -_The residences of the street-orderlies_ are now in all quarters where -unfurnished rooms are about 1_s._ 9_d._ or 2_s._ a week. The addresses -I have cited show them residing in the outskirts and the heart of the -metropolis. The following returns, however, will indicate the ages, the -previous occupations, the education, church-going, the personal habits, -diet, rent, &c., of the class constituting the street-orderlies, better -than anything I can say on the matter. - -Before any man is employed as a street-orderly, he is called upon -to answer certain questions, and the replies from 67 men to these -questions supply a fund of curious and important information--important -to all but those who account the lot of the poor of _no_ importance. In -presenting these details, I beg to express my obligations to Mr. Colin -Mackenzie, the enlightened and kindly secretary of the Association. - -I shall first show what is the order of the questioning, then what were -the answers, and I shall afterwards recapitulate, with a few comments, -the salient characteristics of the whole. - -The questions are after this fashion; the one I adduce having been -asked of a scavager to whom a preference was given:-- - - _The Parish of St. Mary, Paddington.--Questions asked of Parish - Scavagers, applying for employment as Street-Orderlies, with the - answers appended._ - -Name?--W---- C----. - -Age?--35 years. - -How long a scavenger?--Three months. - -What occupation previously?--Gentleman’s footman. - -Married or single?--Married. - -Reading, writing, or other education?--Yes. - -Any children?--One. - -Their ages?--Three years. - -Wages?--Nine shillings per week. - -Any parish relief?--No. - - -_What and how much food the applicants have usually purchased in a -week._ - -Meat?--2_s._ 6_d._ - -Bacon?--None. - -Fish?--None. - -Bread?---2_s._ - -Potatoes?--4_d._ - -Butter?--6_d._ - -Tea and sugar?--1_s._ - -Cocoa?--None. - -What rent they pay?--2_s._ - -Furnished or unfurnished lodgings?--Unfurnished. - -Any change of dress?--No. - -Sunday clothing?--No. - -How many shirts?--Two shirts. - -Boots and shoes?--One pair. - -How much do they lay out for clothes in a year?--I have nothing but -what I stand upright in. - -Do they go to church or chapel?--Sometimes. - -If not, why not?--It is from want of clothes. - -Do they ever bathe?--No. - -Does the wife go out to, or take in work?--Yes. - -What are her earnings?--Uncertain. - -Do they have anything from charitable institutions or families?--No. - -When ill; where do they resort to?--Hospitals, dispensaries, and the -parish doctor. - -Do their children go to any school; and what?--Paddington. - -Do they ever save any money; how much, and where?-- - -How much do they spend per week in drink? - -Do not passers by, as charitable ladies, &c., give them money; and how -much per week?--No. - -Such, are the questions asked, and I now give the answers of 67 -individuals. - - -_Their ages were_:-- - - 10 were from 20 to 30 - 13 „ 30 „ 40 - 24 „ 40 „ 50 - 15 „ 50 to 60 - 4 „ 60 „ 70. - 1 „ 70 - -The greatest number of any age was 7 persons of 45 years respectively. - - -_Their previous occupations had been_:-- - - 22 labourers. - 3 at the business “all their lives.” - 3 dustmen. - 3 ostlers. - 2 stablemen. - 2 carmen. - 2 porters. - 2 gentlemen’s servants. - 2 greengrocers. - 1 following dust-cart. - 1 excavator. - 1 gravel digging. - 1 stone breaking in yards. - 1 at work in the brick-fields. - 1 at work in the lime-works. - 1 coal porter. - 1 sweep. - 1 haybinder. - 1 gaslighter. - 1 dairyman. - 1 ploughman. - 1 gardener. - 1 errand boy. - 1 fur dresser. - 1 fur dyer. - 1 skinner. - 1 leather-dresser. - 1 letter-press printer. - 1 paper stainer. - 1 glass blower. - 1 farrier. - 1 plasterer. - 1 clerk. - 1 vendor of goods. - 1 licensed victualler. - -Therefore, of 67 scavagers - - 12 had been artizans. - 55 „ unskilled workmen. - -Hence about five-sixths belong to the unskilled class of operatives. - - -_Time of having been at scavagering._ - - 3 “all their lives” at the business. - 1 about 27 years. - 6 from 15 to 20 years. - 6 „ 10 „ 15 „ - 4 „ 5 „ 10 years. - 34 „ 1 „ 5 „ - 13 twelve months and less. - -Hence it would appear, that few have been at the business a long time. -The greater number have not been acting as scavagers more than five -years. - - -_State of education.--Could they read and write?_ - - 45 answered yes. - 4 replied that they could read and write. - 5 could read only. - 12 could do neither. - 1 was deaf and dumb. - -Hence it would appear, that rather more than two-thirds of the -scavagers have received _some little_ education. - - -_Did they go to church or chapel?_ - - 22 answered yes. - 9 went to church. - 4 „ chapel. - 4 „ the Catholic chapel. - 1 „ both church and chapel. - 5 went sometimes. - 1 not often. - 17 never went at all. - 1 was ashamed to go. - 1 went out of town to enjoy himself. - 2 made no return (1 being deaf and dumb). - -Thus it would seem, that not quite two-thirds regularly attend some -place of worship; that about one-eleventh go occasionally; and that -about one-fourth never go at all. - - -_Why did they not go to church?_ - - 12 had no clothes. - 55 returned no answer (1 being deaf and dumb). - -Hence of those who never go (19 out of 67), very nearly two-thirds (say -12 in 19) have no clothes to appear in. - - -_Did they bathe?_ - - 59 answered no. - 3 replied yes. - 2 said they did in the Thames. - 2 returned “sometimes.” - 1 was deaf and dumb. - -Hence it appeared, that about seven-eighths never bathe, although -following the filthiest occupation. - - -_Were they married or single?_ - - 56 were married. - 5 „ widowers. - 6 „ single. - -Thus it would seem, that about ten-elevenths are or have been married -men. - - -_How many children had they?_ - - 1 had 15. - 1 „ 6. - 2 „ 5 each. - 11 „ 4 „ - 19 „ 3 „ - 9 „ 2 „ - 6 „ 1 each. - 16 „ none (6 of these being single men). - 2 returned their family as grown up without stating the number. - -Consequently 51 out of 61, or five-sixths, are married, and have -families numbering altogether 165 children; the majority had only 3 -children, and this was about the average family. - - -_What were the ages of their children?_ - - 11 were grown up. - 2 between 30 and 40. - 9 „ 20 and 30. - 49 „ 10 and 20. - 80 „ 1 and 10. - 8 were 1 year and under. - 5 were returned at home. - 1 returned as dead. - -One-half of the scavagers’ children, therefore, are between 1 and 10 -years of age; the majority would appear to be 8 years old. - -Some were said to be grown up, but no number was given. - - -_Did their children go to school?_ - - 13 answered yes. - 13 to the National School. - 5 to the Ragged School. - 2 to Catholic. - 2 to Parish. - 6 to local schools. - 1 replied that he went sometimes. - 2 returned no. - 1 replied that his children were “not with him.” - 22 (of whom 16 had no children, and 1 was deaf and dumb) made no reply. - -From this it would seem, that a large majority--41 out of 51, or -four-fifths--of the parents who have children send them to school. - - -_Did their wives work?_ - - 15 returned no. - 6 said their wives were “unable.” - 1 had lost the use of her limbs. - 2 did, but “not often.” - 4 did “when they could.” - 10 worked “sometimes.” - 12 answered yes. - 1 sold cresses. - 15 made no return (11 having no wives and 1 being deaf and dumb). - -Hence two-fifths of the wives (22 out of 56) do no work, 16 do so -occasionally, and 13, or one-fourth, are in the habit of working. - - -_What were wives’ earnings?_ - - 10 returned them as “uncertain.” - 1 “didn’t know.” - 1 estimated them at 1_s._ 6_d._ per week. - 1 at 1_s._ to 2_s._ „ - 2 at 2_s._ „ - 3 at 2_s._ or 3_s._ „ - 2 at about 3_s._ „ - 1 at 2_s._ to 4_s._ „ - 1 at 3_s._ or 4_s._ „ - 1 at 3_d._ or 4_d._ per day. - 43 gave no returns (having either no wives, or their wives not working). - 1 was deaf and dumb. - -So that, out of 29 wives who were said to work, 16 occasionally and 13 -regularly, there were returns for 23. Nearly half of their earnings -were given as uncertain from their seldom doing work, while the -remainder were stated to gain from 1_s._ to 4_s._ per week; about 2_s._ -6_d._ perhaps would be a fair average. - - -_What wages were they themselves in the habit of receiving?_ - - 3 had 16_s._ 6_d._ per week. - 2 „ 16_s._ „ - 28 „ 15_s._ „ - 3 „ 14_s._ 6_d._ „ - 1 „ 14_s._ „ - 2 „ 12_s._ „ - 15 „ 9_s._ „ - 4 „ 8_s._ „ - 5 „ 7_s._ „ - 4 „ 1_s._ 1-1/2_d._ a day and 2 loaves. - -Hence it is evident, that one-half receive 15_s._ or more a week, and -about a fourth 9_s._ - -It was not the parishes, however, but the contractors with the -parishes, who paid the higher rates of wages: Mr. Dodd, for St. -Luke’s; Mr. Westley, for St. Botolph’s, Bishopsgate; Mr. Parsons, for -Whitechapel; Mr. Newman, for Bethnal-green, &c. - -These wages the scavagers laid out in the following manner:-- - - -_For rent, per week._ - - 1 paid 4_s._ - 1 „ 3_s._ 6_d._ - 8 „ 3_s._ - 14 „ 2_s._ 6_d._ - 33 „ 2_s._ - 4 „ 1_s._ 6_d._ - 1 „ 1_s._ 3_d._ - 2 „ 1_s._ - 1 lived rent free. - 1 paid for board and lodging. - 1 lived with mother. - -Hence it would appear, that near upon half the number paid 2_s._ rent. -The usual rent paid seems to be between 2_s._ and 3_s._, five-sixths -of the entire number paying one or other of those amounts. Only three -lived in furnished lodgings, and the rents of these were, respectively, -two at 2_s._ 6_d._ and the other at 2_s._ - - -_For bread, per week._ - - 1 expended 5_s._ 3_d._ - 1 „ 5_s._ - 1 „ 4_s._ 7_d._ - 1 „ 4_s._ 6_d._ - 1 „ 4_s._ 3_d._ - 7 „ 4_s._ - 13 „ 3_s._ 6_d._ - 8 „ 3_s._ - 3 „ 2_s._ 6_d._ - 4 „ 2_s._ 3_d._ - 13 „ 2_s._ - 4 „ 1_s._ 6_d._ - 1 „ 1_s._ 9_d._ - 4 two loaves a day from parish. - 3 gave a certain sum per week to their wives or mothers to - lay out for them, and 1 boarded and lodged. - 1 was deaf and dumb. - -Thus it would seem, that the general sum expended weekly on bread -varies between 2_s._ and 4_s._ The average saving from free-trade, -therefore, would be between 4_d._ and 8_d._, or say 6_d._, per week. - - -_For meat, per week._ - - 4 expended 4_s._ - 5 „ 3_s._ 6_d._ - 11 „ 3_s._ - 12 „ 2_s._ 6_d._ - 1 „ 2_s._ 4_d._ - 5 „ 2_s._ - 4 „ 1_s._ 6_d._ - 1 „ 1_s._ 2_d._ - 9 „ 1_s._ - 2 „ 10_d._ - 2 „ 6_d._ - 1 „ 8_d._ - 1 once a week. - 4 had none. - 5 no returns (3 of this number gave a weekly allowance to - wives or mothers, 1 was deaf and dumb, and 1 paid for - board and lodging). - -By the above we see, that the sum usually expended on meat is between -2_s._ 6_d._ and 3_s._ per week, about one-third of the entire number -expending that sum. All those who expended 1_s._ and less per week had -9_s._ and less for their week’s labour. The average saving from the -cheapening of provisions would here appear to be between 5_d._ and -6_d._ per week at the outside. - - -_For tea and sugar, per week._ - - 2 paid 2_s._ 6_d._ - 1 „ 2_s._ 4_d._ - 1 „ 2_s._ 3_d._ - 19 „ 2_s._ - 2 „ 1_s._ 9_d._ - 4 „ 1_s._ 8_d._ - 12 „ 1_s._ 6_d._ - 5 „ 1_s._ 4_d._ - 5 „ 1_s._ 3_d._ - 5 „ 1_s._ 2_d._ - 13 „ 1_s._ - 2 „ 8_d._ - 5 no returns: 1 deaf and dumb, 1 board and lodging, and 3 - making allowances. - -The sum usually expended on tea and sugar seems to be between 1_s._ -6_d._ and 2_s._ per week. - - -_For fish, per week._ - - 3 expended 1_s._ - 5 „ 8_d._ - 23 „ 6_d._ - 8 „ 4_d._ - 23 „ nothing. - 4 allowed so much per week to wives, or mother, or landlady. - 1 deaf and dumb. - -Hence one-third spent 6_d._ weekly in fish, and one-third nothing. - - -_For bacon, per week._ - - 1 expended 1_s._ - 2 „ 10_d._ - 1 „ 9_d._ - 5 „ 8_d._ - 9 „ 6_d._ - 1 „ 4_d._ - 43 „ nothing. - 4 allowances to wives, &c. - 1 deaf and dumb. - -The majority (two-thirds), therefore, do not have bacon. Of those that -do eat bacon, the usual sum spent weekly is 6_d._ or 8_d._ - - -_For butter, per week._ - - 1 expended 1_s._ 8_d._ - 24 „ 1_s._ - 11 „ 10_d._ - 12 „ 8_d._ - 11 „ 6_d._ - 1 „ 3_d._ - 2 „ nothing. - 4 made allowances. - 1 deaf and dumb. - -Thus one-third expended 1_s._, and about one-sixth spent 10_d._; -another sixth, 8_d._; and another sixth, 6_d._ a week, for butter. - - -_For potatoes, per week._ - - 1 spent 1_s._ - 2 „ 10_d._ - 6 „ 8_d._ - 1 „ 7_d._ - 18 „ 6_d._ - 6 „ 4_d._ - 28 spent nothing. - 4 made allowances. - 1 deaf and dumb. - -About one-fourth spent 6_d._; the greater proportion, however (nearly -one-half), expended nothing upon potatoes weekly. - - -_For clothes, yearly._ - - 2 expended 2_l._ - 2 „ 1_l._ 10_s._ - 2 „ 1_l._ 5_s._ - 3 „ 1_l._ - 1 „ 18_s._ - 1 „ 17_s._ - 1 „ 15_s._ - 4 „ 12_s._ - 1 „ 10_s._ - 34 couldn’t say. - 1 had 2 pairs of boots a year, but no clothes. - 2 expended “not much.” - 2 got them as they could. - 1 expended a few shillings. - 1 said it “all depends.” - 2 returned “nothing.” - 1 was deaf and dumb. - 6 made no return. - -Hence 43 out of 67, or nearly two-thirds, spent little or nothing upon -their clothes. - - -_Had they a change of dress?_ - - 28 had a change of dress. - 38 had not. - 1 was deaf and dumb. - -Above one-half, therefore, had no other clothes but those they worked -in. - - -_Had they any Sunday clothing?_ - - 20 had some. - 45 had none. - 21 made no return. - 1 deaf and dumb. - -More than two-thirds, then, had no Sunday clothes. - - -_How many shirts had they?_ - - 10 had 3 shirts. - 54 „ 2 „ - 2 „ 1 shirt. - 1 was deaf and dumb. - -The greater number, therefore, had two shirts. - - -_How many shoes had they?_ - - 27 had 2 pairs. - 39 „ 1 „ - 1 was deaf and dumb. - -Thus the majority had only one pair of shoes. - - -_How much did then spend in drink?_ - - 1 expended 2_s._ a week. - 1 „ 1_s._ or 2_s._ „ - 2 „ 1_s._ 6_d._ „ - 4 „ 1_s._ „ - 1 „ 6_d._ „ - 1 „ 3_d._ or 5_d._ „ - 7 said they “couldn’t say.” - 1 said he “wouldn’t say.” - 1 said “that all depends.” - 2 said they “had none to spend.” - 2 expended nothing. - 44 gave no return (1 deaf and dumb). - -Hence answers were given by one-third, of whom the greatest number -“couldn’t say.” (?) Of the ten who acknowledged spending anything upon -drink, the greater number, or 4, said they spent 1_s._ a week only. But? - - -_Did they save any money?_ - - 36 answered no. - 31 gave no reply (1 being deaf and dumb). - - -_What did they in case of illness coming upon themselves or families?_ - - 28 went to the dispensary. - 8 went to the hospital. - 6 „ parish doctor. - 3 wives went to the lying-in hospital. - 1 went to the workhouse. - 2 said “nothing.” - 1 “never troubled any.” - 8 made no reply (1 being deaf and dumb). - -The greater number, then, go, when ill, to the dispensary. - - -_Were they in receipt of alms?_ - - 56 answered no. - 2 „ sometimes. - 3 „ yes. - 6 made no returns (1 being deaf and dumb). - - -_Did the passers-by give them anything?_ - - 49 answered no. - 2 „ sometimes beer. - 1 „ never. - 2 „ seldom. - 1 „ very seldom. - 12 no returns (1 being deaf and dumb). - - -_Did they receive any relief from their parishes?_ - - 56 replied no. - 4 had 2 loaves and 1_s._ a day as wages. - 1 had 4 loaves a week. - 1 „ a 4-lbs. loaf. - 1 „ 15 lbs. of bread. - 2 answered “not at present.” - 2 made no returns. - -Thus the greater proportion (five-sixths), it will be seen, had no -relief; two of those who had relief received 9_s._ wages a week, and -two others only 7_s._, while four received part of their wages from the -parish in bread. - -These analyses are not merely the characteristics of the applicant or -existent street-orderlies; they are really the annals of the poor in -all that relates to their domestic management in regard to meat and -clothes, the care of their children, their church-going, education, -previous callings, and parish relief. The inquiry is not discouraging -as to the character of the poor, and I must call attention to the -circumstance of how rarely it is that so large a collection of facts -is placed at the command of a public writer. In many of the public -offices the simplest information is as jealously withheld as if -statistical knowledge were the first and last steps to high treason. -I trust that Mr. Cochrane’s example in the skilful arrangement of the -returns connected with the Association over which he presides, and his -courteous readiness to supply the information, gained at no small care -and cost, will be more freely followed, as such a course unquestionably -tends to the public benefit. - -It will be seen from these statements, how hard the struggle often -is to obtain work in unskilled labour, and, when obtained, how bare -the living. Every farthing earned by such workpeople is necessarily -expended in the support of a family; and in the foregoing details -we have another proof as to the diminution of the purchasing fund -of the country, being in direct proportion to the diminution of the -wages. If 100 men receive but 7_s._ a week each for their work, their -yearly outlay, to “keep the bare life in them,” is 1820_l._ If they -are paid 16_s._ a week, their outlay is 4160_l._; an expenditure of -2340_l._ more in the productions of our manufactures, in all textile, -metal, or wooden fabrics; in bread, meat, fruit, or vegetables; and -in the now necessaries, the grand staple of our foreign and colonial -trade--tea, coffee, cocoa, sugar, rice, and tobacco. _Increase your -wages, therefore, and you increase your markets._ For manufacturers to -underpay their workmen is to cripple the demand for manufactures. To -talk of the over-production of our cotton, linen, and woollen goods is -idle, when thousands of men engaged in such productions are in rags. It -is not that there are too many makers, but too few who, owing to the -decrease of wages, are able to be buyers. Let it be remembered that, -out of 67 labouring men, three-fourths could not afford to buy proper -clothing, expending thereupon “little” or “nothing,” and, I may add, -_because_ earning little or nothing, and so having scarcely anything to -expend. - -I now come to _the cost of cleansing the streets upon the -street-orderly system_, as compared with that of the ordinary modes -of payment to contractors, &c. It will have been observed, from what -has been previously stated, that the Council of the Association -contend that far higher amounts may be realized for street manure when -collected clean, according to the street-orderly plan. If, by a better -mode of collecting the street dirt, it be kept unmixed, its increase in -value and in price may be most positively affirmed. - -Before presenting estimates and calculations of cost, I may remind the -reader that, under the street-orderly system, no watering carts are -required, and none are used where the system is carried out in its -integrity. To be able to dispense with the watering of the streets is -not merely to get rid of a great nuisance, but to effect a considerable -saving in the rates. - -I now give two estimates, both relating to the same district:-- - - - COMPARATIVE EXPENSE OF CLEANING AND WATERING THE STREETS, &C., OF - ST. JAMES’S PARISH; under the system now in operation by the Paving - Board, and under the sanitary system of employing street-orderlies, as - recommended by 779 ratepayers. It is assumed, from reasonable data, - that the superficial contents of all the streets, lanes, courts, and - alleys in the parish, do not amount to more than 80,000 square yards. - - -“_Present Annual Expense of Cleansing St. James’s Parish_:-- - - Paid to contractor for carrying away slop, - including expense of brooms £800 0 0 - Paid to 23 men, average wages, 10_s._ per - week, 52 weeks 598 0 0 - ----------- - £1398 0 0 - - -“_Annual Expense of Street-Orderly System_:-- - - 30 men (including those with - hand-barrows), at 10_s._ per week, - 52 weeks £780 0 0 - Expense of brooms 30 0 0 - Cartage of slop 100 0 0 - ----------- £910 0 0 - ----------- - £488 0 0 - Saving by diminished expense of street-watering - throughout the parish 450 0 0 - ----------- - Annual prospective saving £938 0 0 - -“Obs.--The sum of 800_l._ per annum was paid to the contractor on -account of expenses incurred for the removal of slop. During the three -years previous to 1849, the contractor paid money to the parish for -permission to remove the house-ashes, the value of which was then -2_s._ per load; it is now 2_s._ 6_d._ In St. Giles’s and St. George’s -parishes, whose surface is more than twice the extent of St. James’s, -the expense of slop-cartage, in 1850, was 304_l._ 14_s._ 0_d._, whilst -the sum received for cattle-manure collected by street-orderlies, -was 73_l._ 14_s._ 0_d._; and the slop-expenses for the four months -ending November 29, were 59_l._ 18_s._ 6_d._, whilst the manure sold -for 21_l._ 6_s._ 0_d._ Thus has the slop-expense in these extensive -united parishes been reduced to less than 120_l._ per annum. Since the -preceding estimate was submitted to the Commissioners of Paving, the -street-orderly system has been introduced into St. James’s parish; and -it is confidently expected that the ‘Annual Prospective saving’ of -938_l._, will be fully realised.” - -A similar estimate has just been sent into the authorities of the great -parish of St. Marylebone, but its results do not differ from the one I -have just cited. - -I next present an estimate contrasting the expense of the -street-orderly method with the cost of employing sweeping-machines:-- - - “COMPARATIVE EXPENSE OF CLEANSING AND WATERING THE STREETS, &C., OF - ST. MARTIN’S PARISH, under the system now in operation by the Paving - Board, and under the sanatory system of employing street-orderlies, as - recommended by 703 ratepayers. It is assumed, from reasonable data, - that the superficial contents of all the streets, lanes, courts, and - alleys in the parish, amount to about 70,000 square yards. - - -“_Expenses by Machinery in St. Martin’s Parish._ - - £ _s._ _d._ - Annual payment to street-machine proprietor 980 0 0 - Watering rate (1847) 644 16 8-1/2 - Salaries to clerks 391 0 0 - Support of 28 able-bodied men in workhouse, - thrown out of work, at 4_s._ 6_d._ per man 327 12 0 - ------------------- - £2343 8 8-1/2 - - -“_Expenditure by the Employment of Street-Orderlies._ - - £ _s._ _d._ - Maintenance of 28 street-orderlies to keep clean - 70,000 yards (presumed contents), at 2500 yards - each man, at 12_s._ per week 768 0 0 - Two inspectors of orderlies, at 15_s._ per week 78 0 0 - One superintendent of ditto, at 1_l._ per week 52 0 0 - Wear and tear of brooms 36 8 0 - Interest on outlay for barrows, brooms, and shovels 26 19 0 - Watering rate (not required) .. .. .. - Value of manure pays for cartage .. .. .. - ----------------- - 961 7 0 - Annual saving by street-orderlies 1382 1 8-1/2 - ------------------ - 2343 8 8-1/2 - -I now give an estimate concerning a smaller district, _one of the -divisions of St. Pancras parish_. It was embodied in a Report read -at a meeting in Camden-town, on the desirableness of introducing the -street-orderly system:-- - -The Report set forth that the Committee had “made a minute -investigation into the present systems of street-cleansing, as adopted -under the superintendence of Mr. Bird, the parish surveyor, and under -that of the National Philanthropic Association. - - “From the 26th of March, 1848, to the 26th of March, 1849, the - _Directors of the Poor expended in paving and cleansing, &c., the - three and a quarter miles under their charge_, 3545_l._ 19_s._ 7_d._; - of this the following items were for cleansing, viz.-- - - £ _s._ _d._ - Labour 249 13 0 - Tools 10 12 0 - Slop carting 496 0 0 - Proportion of foreman’s salary 39 0 0 - --------------- - 795 5 0 - - “_The street-orderly system of cleansing_ the said roads in the most - efficient manner would give the following expenditure per annum:-- - - £ _s._ _d._ - Thirty-four men to cleanse 3-1/4 miles, at the - rate of 2000 superficial yards each man, 12_s._ - per week each 1060 16 0 - Two inspectors of orderlies, at 15_s._ per week - each 78 0 0 - Superintendent 104 0 0 - Cost of brooms, shovels, &c. 83 0 0 - No allowance for slop-carting, the National - Philanthropic Association holding that the - manure, properly collected, will more than - pay for its removal .. .. .. - ---------------- - 1325 16 0 - Deduct cost of cleansing by the old mode 795 5 0 - ---------------- - 530 11 0 - -“The apparent extra cost, therefore, would be 530_l._ 11_s._ The -vestry, however, would see that the charge for supporting 34 -able-bodied men in the workhouse is at least 5_s._ per week each, or -442_l._ per annum. This, therefore, must be deducted from the 530_l._ -11_s._, leaving the extra cost 88_l._ 11_s._ per annum. This sum, the -committee were assured, will be not only repaid by the reduced outlay -for repairs, which the new system will effect; but a very great saving -will be the result of the thorough cleansed state in which the roads -will be constantly maintained. Under the late system, to find the -roads in a cleansed state was the exception, not the rule; and when -all the advantages likely to result from the new system were taken -into consideration, the committee did not hesitate to recommend it for -adoption in its most efficient form.” - -Concerning the _expense of cleansing the City by the street-orderly -system_, Mr. Cochrane says:-- - - “The number required for the whole surface (including the footways, - courts, &c.) would be about 250 men and boys. - - “Upon the present system this number would be formed in three - divisions:-- - - “First division.--170 to begin work at 6 a.m., and end 6 p.m. Second - division, called relief and aids.--30 boys from 12 at noon to 10. - Third division--50 men from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m. Total, 250. - - “The men and boys are now working at from 6_s._ to 12_s._ per week. - - These 250 men and boys would cost for wages during the - year about £5100 - Twelve foremen, at 40_l._ per annum 480 - Two superintendents at 50_l._ each 100 - Brooms, &c. 325 - Barrows 100 - Two clerks, at 100_l._ each 200 - Manager 100 - ----- - £6405 - - “No items are given for slopping or cartage, as, if the streets are - properly attended to, there ought to be no slop, whilst the value of - the manure may be more than equivalent for the expense of its removal. - - “Some slop-carts will, however, be occasionally required for - Smithfield-market and similar localities; making, therefore, - ample allowance for contingencies, it is confidently considered - that the expense for cleansing the whole of the city of London by - street-orderlies would not exceed 8000_l._ per annum.” - - “_Expenses of Cleansing and Watering the Streets, &c., of the City - of London, on the old system of Scavaging, from June, 1845, to June, - 1846._ - - Annual - Expense. - To scavaging contractors £6040 - Value of ashes and dust of the city of London, given - gratis to the above contractors in the year ending - 1846, and now purchased by them for the year ending - 1847 5500 - Estimated contributions levied for watering streets 4000 - Salaries to surveyors, inspectors, beadles, clerks, - &c., of Sewers’ Office, according to printed account, - March 3, 1846 2485 - Expense for cleaning out sewers and gully-holes - (not known) - ------- - Annual expense under the imperfect system of - street-cleansing £18,025 - - “Number of men employed, 58. - - “State of the Streets:--Inhabitants always complaining of their being - muddy in winter and dusty in summer.” - -Two estimates, then, show an expectation of a yearly saving of no less -than 2320_l._ to the rate-payers of two parishes alone; 938_l._ to St. -James’s, and 1382_l._ to St. Martin’s. And this, too, if all that be -augured of this system be realized, with a freedom from street dust -and dirt unknown under other methods of scavagery. I think it right, -however, to express my opinion that even in the reasonable prospect -of these great savings being effected, it is a paltry, or rather a -false, because miscalled, economy to speculate on the payment of -10_s._ and 12_s._ a week to street-labourers in the parishes of St. -James and St. Martin respectively, when so many of the contractors pay -their men 16_s._ weekly. If this low hire be justifiable in the way -of an experiment, it can never be justifiable as a continuance of the -_reward_ of labour. - -If the street-orderly system is to be the means of _permanently_ -reducing the wages of the regular scavagers from 16_s._ to 12_s._ a -week, then we had better remain afflicted with the physical dirt of our -streets, than the moral filth which is sure to proceed from the poverty -of our people--but if it is to be a means of elevating the pauper -to the dignity of the independent labour, rather than dragging the -independent labourer down to the debasement of the pauper, then let all -who wish well to their fellows encourage it as heartily and strenuously -as they can--otherwise the sooner it is denounced as an insidious mode -of defrauding the poor of one-fourth of their earnings the better; and -it is merely in the belief that Mr. Cochrane and the Council of the -Association _mean_ to keep faith with the public and increase the men’s -wages to those of the regular trade, that the street-orderly system -is advocated here. If our philanthropists are to reduce wages 25 per -cent., then, indeed, the poor man may cry, “_save me from my friends_.” - -As to the positive and definite working of the street-orderly system -as an _economical_ system, no information can be given beyond -the estimates I have cited, as it has never been duly tested on -a sufficiently large scale. Its working has been, of necessity, -desultory. It has, however, been introduced into St. George’s, -Bloomsbury; St. James’s, Westminster; and is about to be established in -St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields; and in the course of a year or two it seems -that it will be sufficiently tested. That its working has hitherto -been desultory is a necessity in London, where “vested interests” look -grimly on any change or even any inquiry. That it deserves a full and -liberal testing seems undeniable, from the concurrent assent of all -parishioners who have turned their attention to it. - -It remains to show the expenses of the Philanthropic Association, for -I am unable to present an account of street-orderlyism separately. The -two following tables fully indicate to what an extent the association -is indebted to the private purse of Mr. Cochrane, who by this time has -advanced between 6000_l._ and 7000_l._ - - -“BALANCE SHEET. - - _Receipts and Expenditure of the National Philanthropic Association, - for the Promotion of Social and Sanatory Improvements and the - Employment of the Poor, from 29th September, 1846, to 29th September, - 1849._ - - DR. £ _s._ _d._ - To subscriptions and donations from the 29th - September, 1846, to 29th September, 1849 1393 16 7 - Balance due to president, 29th September, - 1849 5739 19 9 - ------------- - 7133 16 4 - - CR. £ _s._ _d._ - By balance due to president, as per Balance - Sheet, Sept. 29, 1846 2935 17 9 - Secretary’s salary 300 0 0 - Rent of offices, &c. 248 10 0 - Salaries to clerks, messengers, &c. 371 19 4 - Do. to collectors 312 18 1 - Commission to do. 130 5 6 - Printing and stationery 556 17 0 - Hire of rooms for public meetings 60 10 0 - Advertisements and newspapers 244 5 3 - Bill posting 8 12 6 - Salaries to persons in charge of free - lavatories in Ham-yard, Great Windmill-st., - St. James’s 10 18 2 - Brooms, barrows, and shovels, for the use of - street-orderlies 86 8 0 - Charges of contractors and others for removal - of street slop, &c. 58 9 6 - Food, lodging, and wages to street-orderlies, - domiciled in Ham-yard, Great Windmill-street, - St. James’s 980 11 4 - Clothing for the street-orderlies 13 3 2 - Baths provided for do. 5 15 10 - Sundry expenses for offices, including - postage-stamps, &c. 92 7 11 - Law expenses 8 10 10 - Builder’s charges for free lavatories in - Ham-yard 95 13 10 - Amount advanced to the late secretary for - improving the dwellings of the poor 20 0 0 - Farther advances made by president on various - occasions for the general purposes of the - Association 592 2 4 - -------------- - 7133 16 4 - - Audited by us, Oct. 19th, 1849, Charles Shepherd Lenton, 33, - Leicester-square; and Joseph Child, 43, Leicester-square.” - - -STREET-ORDERLIES.--CITY SURVEYOR’S REPORT. - -I have been favoured with a Report “upon street-cleansing and in -reference to the Street-Orderly System,” by the author, Mr. W. Haywood, -the Surveyor to the City Commission of Sewers, who has invited my -attention to the matter, in consequence of the statements which have -appeared on the subject in “London Labour and the London Poor.” - -Mr. Haywood, whose tone of argument is courteous and moderate, and who -does not scruple to do justice to what he accounts the good points of -the street-orderly system, although he condemns it as a whole, gives -an account of the earlier scavaging of the city, not differing in any -material respect from that which I have already printed. He represents -the public ways of the City, which I have stated to be about 50 miles, -as “about 51 miles lineal, about 770,157 superficial yards in area.” -This area, it appears, comprehends 1000 different places. - -In 1845 the area of the carriage-way of the City was estimated at -418,000 square yards, and the footway at 316,000, making a total of -734,000; but since that period new streets have been made and others -extensively widened. The precincts of Bridewell, St. Bartholomew, St. -James’s, Duke’s-place, Aldgate, and others, have been added to the -jurisdiction of the Sewers Commission by Act of Parliament, so that -the Surveyor now estimates the area of the carriage-way of the City of -London at 441,250 square yards, and the footway at 328,907, making a -total of 770,157 square yards. - -“I am fully impressed,” observes Mr. Haywood, “with the great -importance to a densely-populated city of an efficient cleansing of the -public ways. Probably after a perfect system of sewage and drainage -(which implies an adequate water supply), and a well-paved surface -(which I have always considered to be little inferior in its importance -to the former, and which is indispensable to obtaining clean sweeping), -good surface cleansing ranks next in its beneficial sanitary influence; -and most certainly the comfort gained by all through having public -thoroughfares in a high degree of cleanliness is exceedingly great.” - -Mr. Haywood expresses his opinion that streets “ordure -soddened”--smelling like “stable yards,”--dangerous to the health -of the inhabitants--impassable from mud in winter and from dust in -summer--and inflicting constant pecuniary loss, “can only exist in -an appreciable degree in thoroughfares swept much less frequently” -than the streets within the jurisdiction of the City Commissioners -of Sewers. In this opinion, however, Mr. Haywood comes into direct -collision with the statements put forth by the Board of Health, who -have insisted upon the insanitary state of the metropolitan streets, -more strongly, perhaps, in their several Reports, than has Mr. Cochrane. - -But Mr. Haywood believes that not only are the assertions of the -Board of Health as to the unwholesome state of the metropolitan -thoroughfares unfounded as regards the city of London, but he asserts -that from the daily street-sweeping, “the surface there is maintained -in as high an average condition of cleanliness, as the means hitherto -adopted will enable to be attained.” - -“Nor does this apply,” says Mr. Haywood, “to the main thoroughfares -only. In the poorer courts and alleys within the city, where a high -degree of cleanliness is, at least, as needful, in a sanitary point -of view, as in the larger and wider thoroughfares, the facilities for -efficient sweeping are as great, if not greater, than in other portions -of your jurisdiction. For many years past the whole of the courts and -alleys which carts do not enter, have been paved with flagstone, laid -at a good inclination, and presenting an uniform smooth _non-absorbent_ -surface: in many of these courts where the habits of the people are -cleanly, the scavenger’s broom is almost unneeded for weeks together; -in others, where the habit prevails of throwing the refuse of the -houses upon the pavements, the daily sweeping is highly essential; but -in all these courts the surface presents a condition which renders good -clean sweeping a comparatively easy operation, that which is swept away -being mostly dry, or nearly so.” - -After alluding to the street-orderly principle of scavaging, “to clean -and keep clean,” Mr. Haywood observes, “between the ‘_street-orderly -system_’ and the periodical or intermittent sweeping there is this -difference, that upon the former system there should be (if it fulfils -what it professes) no deposit of any description allowed to remain much -longer than a few minutes upon the surface, and that there should be -neither mud in the wet weather, nor dust in the dry weather, upon the -public ways; whilst, upon the latter system, the deposit necessarily -accumulates between the periods of sweeping, commencing as soon as one -sweeping has terminated, gradually increasing, and being at its point -of extreme accumulation at the period when the next sweeping takes -place; the former, then, is, or should be, a system of prevention; the -latter, confessedly, but a system of palliation or cure. - -“The more frequent the periodical sweeping, therefore, the nearer it -approximates in its results to the ‘_street-orderly system_,’ inasmuch -as the accumulations, being frequently removed, must be smaller, and -the evils of mud, dust, effluvia, &c., less in proportion. - -“Now to fulfil its promise: upon the ‘street-orderly system,’ there -should be men both day and night within the streets, who should -constantly remove the manure and refuse, and, failing this, if there be -only cessation for six hours out of the twenty-four of the ‘continuous -cleansing,’ it becomes at once a periodical cleansing but a degree -in advance of the daily sweeping, which has been now for years in -operation within the city of London.” - -This appears to me to be an extreme conclusion:--because the labours -of the street-orderly system cease when the great traffic ceases, and -when, of course, there is comparatively little or no dirt deposited -in the thoroughfares, therefore, says Mr. Haywood, “the City system of -cleansing once per day is _only a degree_ behind that system of which -the principle is incessant cleansing at such time as the dirtying -is incessant.” The two principles are surely as different as light -and darkness:--in the one the cleansing is intermittent and the dirt -constant; in the other the dirt is intermittent and the cleanliness -constant--constant, at least, so long as the causes of impurity are so. - -Mr. Haywood, however, states that the Commissioners were so pleased -with the appearance of the streets, when cleansed on the street-orderly -system, which “was _certainly much to be admired_,” that they -introduced a somewhat similar system, calling their scavagers “daymen,” -as they had the care of _keeping_ the streets clean, _after_ a daily -morning sweeping by the contractor’s men. They commenced their work -at 9 A.M. and ceased at 6 P.M. in the summer months, and at half-past -4 P.M. in the winter. In the summer months 36 daymen were employed on -the average; in the winter months, 46. The highest number of scavaging -daymen employed on any one day was 63; the lowest was 34. The area -cleansed was about 47,000 yards (superficial measure), and with the -following results, and the following cost, from June 24, 1846, to the -same date, 1847:-- - - Yards - Superficial. - The average area cleansed during the summer - months, per man per diem, was 1298 - Ditto during winter, per man per diem, was 1016 - The average of both summer and winter months - was, per man per diem 1139 - ------ - The cost of the experiment was for daymen - (including brooms, barrows, shovels, - cartage, &c.)[29] £1450 18 - One Foreman at 78 0 - -------- - And the total cost of the experiment £1528 18 - -“The daily sweeping,” Mr. Haywood says, “which for the previous -two years had been established throughout the City, gave at that -time _very great satisfaction_. It was quite true that the streets -which the daymen attended to, _looked superior_ to those cleansed -only _periodically_, but the practical value of the difference was -considered by many not to be worth the sum of money paid for it. It -was also felt that, if it was continued, it should upon principle be -extended at least to all streets of similar traffic to those upon which -it had been tried; and as, after due consideration, the Commission -thought that one daily sweeping was sufficient, both for health and -comfort, the day or continuous sweeping was abandoned, and the whole -City only received, from that time to the present, the usual daily -sweeping.” - -The “present” time is shown by the date of Mr. Haywood’s Report, -October 13, 1851. The reason assigned for the abandonment of the -system of the daymen is peculiar and characteristic. The system of -continuous cleansing gave very great satisfaction, although it was but -a degree in advance of the once-a-day cleansing. The streets which -the daymen attended to “looked,” and of course were, “superior” in -cleanliness to those scavaged periodically. It was also felt that -the principle should “be extended at least to all streets of similar -traffic;” and why was it not so extended? Because, in a word, “it was -not worth the money;” though by what standard the value of public -cleanliness was calculated, is not mentioned. - -The main question, therefore, is, what is the difference in the cost of -the two systems, and _is_ the admitted “superior cleanliness” produced -by the continuous mode of scavaging, in comparison with that obtained -by the intermittent mode, of sufficient public value to warrant the -increased expense (if any)--in a word, as the City people say--is it -_worth the money_? - -First, as to the comparative cost of the two systems: after a -statement of the contracts for the dusting and cleansing of the City -(matters I have before treated of) Mr. Haywood, for the purpose of -making a comparison of the present City system of scavaging with the -street-orderly system, gives the table in the opposite page to show the -cost of street cleansing and dusting within the jurisdiction of the -City Court of Sewers. - -Mr. Haywood then invites attention to the subjoined statement of -the National Philanthropic Association, on the occurrence of a -demonstration as to the efficiency and economy of the street-orderly -system. - - “Association for the Promotion of Street Paving, Cleansing, Draining, - &c., 20, Vere Street, Oxford Street, January 26th, 1846. - - “Approximation to the total Expenses connected with cleansing, as an - experiment, certain parts of the City of London, commencing December, - 1845, for the period of two months. - - “350 brooms, being an average of 5 brooms £. _s._ _d._ - for each man 23 18 10 - For carting 99 1 9 - For advertising 65 0 0 - For rent of store-room, 3_l._ 14_s._; Clerks’ - salaries, 12_l._; Messengers, 5_l._ 5_s._; wooden - clogs for men, 2_l._ 5_s._ 10_d._; expenses of - washing wood pavement, 5_l._ 28 4 10 - Expenses of barrows 24 14 0 - Christmas dinner to men, foremen, and - superintendents (97) 15 12 6 - 83 men (averaging at 2_s._ 6_d._ per day) for - 9 weeks 573 15 0 - 4 superintendents at 25_s._ 4_d._, foreman at - 18_s._, cart foreman 20_s._, storekeeper 18_s._, - chief superintendents 2_l._, for 9 weeks 112 10 0 - For various small articles, brushes, rakes, - &c. 36 7 8 - Petty expenses of the office, postages, &c., - and stationery 6 0 0 - --------------- - Approximation to the total cost of the expense £987 4 7 - --------------- - - Signed, M. DAVIES, Secretary.” - -“I will now,” says Mr. Haywood, “without further present reference -to the Report of the Association, proceed to form an estimate of -the expenses of the system as they would have been if it had been -extended to the whole City, and which estimate will be based upon -the information as to the expenses of the system, furnished by -the experiment or demonstration made by the Association within your -jurisdiction. - - -TABLE SHOWING THE COST OF STREET CLEANSING AND DUSTING WITHIN THE -JURISDICTION OF THE CITY COURT OF SEWERS. - - ------------------+----------------------+------------------------------ - | Mode of Contracting, | | - | whether Contracts for| Leading or Principal feature| - Date. |Dusting and Scavenging| in the Regulations for | - | were let separately | the Dusting and Cleansing. | - | or together. | | - ------------------+----------------------+-----------------------------+ - Year ending | | | - Michaelmas, 1841| separately |Main streets of largest | - | | traffic running east and | - | | west cleansed _daily_, | - | | other principal streets | - | | _every other day_, the | - „ 1842| separately | whole of the remainder | - | | of the public ways _twice_ | - | | a week; dust to be | - | | removed at least _twice_ a | - „ 1843| together | week. | - | | | - | | | - | | | - | | | - „ 1844| separately |Main line of streets cleansed| - | | _daily_, other principal | - | | streets _every other day_, | - | | and all other place _twice_| - | | in every week; dust to | - | | be removed at least _twice_| - „ 1845| separately | a week. | - | | | - | | | - | | | - | | | - „ 1846| separately | | - | | | - „ 1847| separately | | - | |_Daily cleansing_ throughout | - „ 1848| separately | every public way of | - | | every description; dust | - „ 1849| together | to be removed twice a | - | | week. | - „ 1850| together | | - | | | - „ 1851| together | | - | | | - | | | - ------------------+----------------------+-----------------------------+ - - ------------------------+--------------------------+----------------------- - | | | - |Sum paid for Scavenging|Sum received by Commission| Total Disbursements - | and Dusting, or | for the Sale of | by the Commission for - | for Scavenging only | Dust when the Contracts |Scavenging and Dusting. - | during the year. | were let separately. | - +-----------------------+--------------------------+----------------------- - | £ _s._ _d._ | £ _s._ _d._ | £ _s._ _d._ - | 4590 6 0 | | 4590 6 0 - | | | - | | | - | | Amounts paid | - | | and received | - | 3633 7 0 | are balanced | 3633 17 0 - | | | - | | | - | | | - | 2084 4 6 | | 2084 4 6 - | | +----------------------- - | Average per Annum for 3 Years.| 3436 2 6 - | | +----------------------- - | | +----------------------- - | 3826 12 6 | | 3826 12 6 - | | | - | | Amounts paid | - | | and received | - | | are balanced | - | | | - | 2033 2 0 | | 2833 2 0 - | | +----------------------- - | Average per Annum of the 2 Years.| 3329 17 3 - | | +----------------------- - | | +----------------------- - | 6034 6 0 | 1354 5 0 | 4680 1 0 - | | | - | 8014 2 0 | 4455 5 0 | 3558 17 0 - | | | - | 7226 1 6 | 1328 15 0 | 5897 6 6 - | | | - | 7486 11 6 | 7486 11 6 | - | | | - | 6779 16 0 | 6779 16 0 | - | | | - | 6328 17 0 | 6328 17 0 | - | | | - | Average per Annum of the last 6 Years.| 5788 11 6 - +--------------------------------------------------+----------------------- - - NOTE.--From 24th June, 1846, to 24th June, 1847, the Commission made - their own experiment upon the Street-Orderly System--the expenses of - such experiment are included in the above amounts. In 1849 the area of - the jurisdiction of the Commission was increased by the addition of - various precincts under the City of London Sewers’ Act. - -“The total cost of the experiment was £987 4_s._ 7_d._, and, deducting -the charges under the head of advertising, Christmas dinner, and petty -cash expenses, and also that for office-rent, clerks, messengers, &c., -and assigning £50 as the value of the implements at that time for -future use, there is left a balance of £822 7_s._ 3_d._ as the clear -cost of the experiment. - -“The experiment was tried for a period of eight weeks exactly, -according to the return made to the Commission by the Superintendent of -the Association, but as in the statement of expenses the wages appear -to be included for a period of nine weeks, I have assumed nine weeks as -the correct figure, and the experiment must therefore have cost a sum -of £822 7_s._ 3_d._ for that period, or at the rate of about £91 per -week. - - Squ. Yards - “Now the total area of the carriage-way - of the City of London was at that time 418,000 - “And the area of the foot-way 316,000 - ------- - “Making a total of 734,000 - - “And the area of the carriage-way - cleaned by the street-orderlies was 30,670 - “And the area of the foot-way 18,590 - ------- - “Making a total of 49,260 - -“The total area of foot-way and carriage-way cleansed was therefore -1-15th of the whole of the carriage-way and foot-way of the City; or, -taken separately, the carriage-way cleansed was somewhat more than -1-14th of the whole of the City carriage-way. - - “It has been seen also that the total cost of - cleansing this 1-14th portion of the carriage-way, - after deducting all extraneous expenses, was at - the rate per week of £91 - Or at the rate, per annum, of £4732 - -“To assign an expenditure in the same proportion for the remaining -13-14ths of the whole carriage-way area of the City would not be just, -for, in the first place, allowance must be made, owing to the dirt -brought off from the adjacent streets, which, it is assumed, would not -have been the case had they also been cleansed upon the street-orderly -system; and moreover, as the majority of the streets cleansed were -those of large traffic, a larger proportion of labour was needed to -them than would have been the case had the experiment been upon any -equal area of carriage-way, taken from a district comprehending streets -of all sizes and degrees of traffic; but if I assume that the 1-14th -portion of the City cleansed represents 1-11th of the whole in the -labour needed for cleansing the whole of the City upon the same system, -I believe I shall have made a very fair deduction, and shall, if -anything, err in favour of the experiment. - -“Estimating, therefore, the expense of cleansing the whole of the City -carriage-way upon the street-orderly system according to the expenses -of the experiment made in 1845-6, and from the data then furnished, it -appears that cleansing upon such system would have come to an annual -sum of 52,052_l._ - -“It will be seen that there is a remarkable difference between this -estimate of 52,052_l._ per annum and that of 18,000_l._ per annum -estimated by the Association, and given in their Report of the 26th -January, 1846; and what is more remarkable is, that my estimate is -framed not upon any assumption of my own, but is a dry calculation -based upon the very figures of expense furnished by the Association -itself, and herein-before recited.” - -A second demonstration, carried on in the City by the street-orderlies, -is detailed by Mr. Haywood, but as he draws the same conclusions from -it, there is no necessity to do other than allude to it here. - -According to the above estimate, it certainly must be admitted that -the difference between the two accounts is, as Mr. Haywood says, -“remarkable”--the one being nearly three times more than the other. -But let us, for fairness’ sake, test the cost of cleansing the City -thoroughfares upon the continuous plan of scavaging by the figures -given in Mr. Haywood’s own report, and see whether the above conclusion -is warranted by the facts there stated. From June, 1846, to June, 1847, -we have seen that several of the main streets in the City were cleansed -continuously throughout the day by what were called “daymen”--that is -to say, 47,000 superficial yards of the principal thoroughfares were -_kept_ clean (_after_ the daily cleansing of them by the contractor’s -men) by a body of men similar in their mode of operation to the -street-orderlies, and who removed all the dirt as soon as deposited -between the hours of the principal traffic. The cost of this experiment -(for such it seems to have been) was, for the twelve months, as we -have seen, 1528_l._ 18_s._ Now if the expense of cleansing 47,000 -superficial yards upon the continuous method was 1529_l._, then, -according to Cocker, 770,157 yards (the total area of the public ways -of the City) would cost 25,054_l._; and, adding to this 6328_l._ for -the sum paid to the contractors for the daily scavaging, we have only -31,382_l._ for the gross expense of cleansing the whole of the City -thoroughfares once a day by the “regular scavagers,” and _keeping_ -them clean _afterwards_ by a body similar to the street-orderlies--a -difference of upwards of 20,000_l._ between the facts and figures of -the City Surveyor. - -It would appear to me, therefore, that Mr. Haywood has erred, in -estimating the probable expense of the street-orderly system of -scavaging applied to the City at 52,000_l._ per annum, for, by his own -showing, it actually cost the authorities for the one year when it -was tried there, only 1529_l._ for 47,000 superficial yards, at which -rate 770,000 yards could not cost more than 31,500_l._, and this, even -allowing that the same amount of labour would be required for the -continuous cleansing of the minor thoroughfares as was needed for the -principal ones. That the error is an oversight on the part of the City -Surveyor, the whole tone of his Report is sufficient to assure us, for -it is at once moderate and candid. - -It must, on the other hand, be admitted, that Mr. Haywood is perfectly -correct as to the difference between the cost of the “demonstration” -of the street-orderly system of cleansing in the City, and the -estimated cost of that mode of scavaging when brought into regular -operation there; this, however, the year’s experience of the City -“daymen” shows, could not possibly exceed 32,000_l._, and might and -probably would be much less, when we take into account the smaller -quantity of labour required for the minor thoroughfares--the extra -value of the street manure when collected free from mud--the saving -in the expense of watering the streets (this not being required under -the orderly system)--and the abolition of the daily scavaging, which -is included in the sum above cited, but which would be no longer -needed were the orderlies employed, such work being performed by them -at the commencement of their day’s labours; so that I am disposed to -believe, all things considered, that somewhere about 20,000_l._ per -annum might be the gross expense of continuously cleansing the City. -Mr. Cochrane estimates it at 18,000_l._ But whether the admitted -superior cleanliness of the streets, and the employment of an extra -number of people, will be held by the citizens to be worth the extra -money, it is not for me to say. If, however, the increased cleanliness -effected by the street-orderlies is to be brought about by a decrease -of the wages of the regular scavagers from 16_s._ to 12_s._ a week, -which is the amount upon which Mr. Cochrane forms his estimate, then -I do not hesitate to say the City authorities will be gainers, in the -matter of poor-rates at least, by an adherence to the present method -of scavaging, paying as they do the best wages, and indeed affording -an illustrious example to all the metropolitan parishes, in refusing -to grant contracts to any master scavagers but such as consent to deal -fairly with the men in their employ. And I do hope and trust, for the -sake of the working-men, the City Commissioners of Sewers will, should -they decide upon having the City cleansed _continuously_, make the same -requirement of Mr. Cochrane, before they allow his street-orderlies to -displace the regular scavagers at present employed there. - -Benefits to the community, gained at the expense of “the people,” -are really great evils. The street-orderly system is a good one when -applied to parishes employing paupers and paying them 1_s._ 1-1/2_d._ -and a loaf per day, or even nothing, except their food, for their -labour. Here it elevates paupers into independent labourers; but, -applied to those localities where the highest wages are paid, and there -is the greatest regard shown for the welfare of the workmen, it is -merely a scurf-system of degrading the independent labourers to the -level of paupers, by reducing the wages of the regular scavagers from -16_s._ to 12_s._ per week. The avowed object of the street-orderly -system is to provide employment for able-bodied men, and so to -_prevent_ them becoming a _burthen to the parish_. But is not a -reduction of the scavager’s wages to the extent of 25 per cent. a week, -more likely to _encourage_ than to _prevent_ such a result? This is -the weak point of the orderly system, and one which gentlemen calling -themselves _philanthropists_ should really blush to be parties to. - -After all, the opinion to which I am led is this--the street-orderly -system is incomparably the best mode of scavaging, and the payment -of the men by “_honourable_” masters the best mode of employing the -scavagers. The evils of the scavaging trade appear to me to spring -chiefly from the parsimony of the parish authorities--either employing -their own paupers without adequate remuneration, or else paying such -prices to the contractors as almost necessitates the under-payment of -the men in their employ. Were I to fill a volume, this is all that -could be said on the matter. - - -OF THE “JET AND HOSE” SYSTEM OF SCAVAGING. - -There appears at the present time a bent in the public mind for an -improved system of scavagery. Until the ravages of the cholera in -1832, and again in 1848, roused the attention of Government and of -the country, men seemed satisfied to dwell in dirty streets, and to -congratulate themselves that the public ways were dirtier in the days -of their fathers; a feeling or a spirit which has no doubt existed in -all cities, from the days of those original scavagers, the vultures -and hyenas of Africa and the East, the adjutants of Calcutta, and the -hawks--the common glades or kites of this country--and which, we are -told, in the days of Henry VIII. used to fly down among the passengers -to remove the offal of the butchers and poulterers’ stalls in the -metropolitan markets, and in consideration of which services it was -forbidden to kill them--down to the mechanical sweeping of the streets -of London, and even to Mr. Cochrane’s excellent street-orderlies. - -Besides the plan suggested by Mr. Cochrane, whose orderlies cleanse -the streets without wetting, and consequently without dirtying, the -surface by the use of the watering-cart, there is the opposite method -proposed by Mr. Lee, of Sheffield, and other gentlemen, who recommend -street-cleansing by the hose and jet, that is to say, by flushing -the streets with water at a high pressure, as the sewers are now -flushed; and so, by _washing_ rather than _sweeping_ the dirt of the -streets into the sewers, through the momentum of the stream of water, -dispensing altogether with the scavager’s broom, shovel, and cart. - -In order to complete this account of the scavaging of the streets -of London, I must, in conclusion, say a few words on this method, -advocated as it is by the Board of Health, and sanctioned by scientific -men. By the application of a hose, with a jet or water pipe attached -to a fire-plug, the water being at high pressure, a stream of fluid is -projected along the street’s surface with force enough to _wash_ away -all before it into the sewers, while by the same apparatus it can be -thrown over the fronts of the houses. This mode of street-cleansing -prevails in some American cities, especially in Philadelphia, where -the principal thoroughfares are said to be kept admirably clean by it; -while the fronts of the houses are as bright as those in the towns -of Holland, where they are washed, not by mechanical appliances, but -by water thrown over them out of scoops by hand labour--one of the -instances of the minute and indefatigable industry of the Dutch. - -It is stated in one of the Reports of the Board of Health, that -“unless cleansing be general and simultaneous, much of the dirt of one -district is carried by traffic into another. By the subdivision of the -metropolis into small districts, the duty of cleansing the _public_ -carriage-way is thrown upon a number of obscure and irresponsible -authorities; while the duty of cleansing the _public_ footways, which -are no less important, _are_ charged upon multitudes of private -individuals.” [The grammar is the Board of Health’s grammar.] “It is -a false pecuniary economy, in the case of the poorest inhabitants of -court or alley, who obtain their livelihood by any regular occupation, -to charge upon each family the duty of cleansing the footway before -their doors. The performance of this service daily, at a rate of 1_d._ -_per week_ per house or per family, would be an economy in soap and -clothes to persons the average value of whose time is never less than -2_d._ per hour.” [This is at the rate of 2_s._ a day; did this most -innocent Board _never_ hear of work yielding 1_s._ 6_d._ a week? But -the sanitary authorities seem to be as fond as teetotallers of “going -to extremes.”] - -In another part of the same Report the process and results are -described. It is also stated that for the success of this method of -street purification the pavement must be good; for “a powerful jet, -applied by the hose, would scoop out hollows in unpaved places, and -also loosen and remove the stones in those that are badly paved.” -As every public place ought to be well-paved, this necessity of new -and good pavement is no reasonable objection to the plan, though it -certainly admits of a question as to the durability of the roads--the -macadamized especially--under this continual soaking. Sir Henry -Parnell, the great road authority, speaks of wet as the main destroyer -of the highways. - -It is stated in the Report, after the mention of experiments having -been made by Mr. Lovick, Mr. Hale, and Mr. Lee (Mr. Lee being one of -the engineering inspectors of the Board), that - -“Mr. Lovick, at the instance of the Metropolitan Commissioners of -Sewers, conducted his experiments with such jets as could be obtained -from the water companies’ mains in eligible places; but the pressure -was low and insufficient. Nevertheless, it appeared that, taking the -extra quantity of water required at the actual expense of pumping, -the paved surfaces might be washed clean at one-half the price of the -scavagers’ manual labour in sweeping. Mr. Lee’s trials were made at -Sheffield, with the aid of a more powerful and suitable pressure, and -he found that with such pressure as he obtained the cleansing might be -effected in one-third the time, and at one-third the usual expense, -of the scavagers’ labour of sweeping the surface with the broom.” -[This expense varies, and the Board nowhere states at what rate it is -computed; the scavagers’ wages varying 100 per cent.] - -“The effect of this mode of cleansing in close courts and streets,” it -is further stated, “was found to be peculiarly grateful in hot weather. -The water was first thrown up and diffused in a thin sheet, it was -then applied rapidly to cleansing the surface and the side walls, as -well as the pavements.” Mr. Lovick states that the immediate effect of -this operation was to lower the temperature, and to produce a sense of -freshness, similar to that experienced after a heavy thunder-shower -in hot weather. But there is nothing said as to the probable effect -of this state of things in winter--a hard frost for instance. The -same expedient was resorted to for cooling the yards and outer courts -of hospitals, and the shower thrown on the windows of the wards -afforded great relief. Mr. Lovick, in his Report on the trial works for -cleansing courts, states:-- - -“The importance of water as an agent in the improvement and -preservation of health being in proportion to the unhealthiness or -depressed condition of districts, its application to close courts and -densely-populated localities, in which a low sanitary condition must -obtain, is of primary importance. Having shown the practicability -of applying this system (cleansing by jets of water) to the general -cleansing of the streets, my further labours have been, and are now, -directed to this end. - -“For the purpose of ascertaining the effect produced by operations -of this nature upon the atmosphere, two courts were selected: -Church-passage, New Compton-street, open at both ends, with -a carriage-way in the centre, and footway on each side; and -Lloyd’s-court, Crown-street, St. Giles’s, a close court, with, at one -entrance, a covered passage about 40 feet in length: both courts were -in a very filthy condition; in Church-passage there were dead decaying -cats and fish, with offal, straw, and refuse scattered over the -surface; at one end an entrance to a private yard was used as a urinal; -in every part there were most offensive smells. - -“Lloyd’s-court was in a somewhat similar condition, the covered -entrance being used as a general urinal, presenting a disgusting -appearance; the whole atmosphere of the court was loaded with -highly-offensive effluvia; in the covered entrance this was more -particularly discernible. - -“The property of water, as an absorbent, was rendered strikingly -apparent in the immediate and marked effects of its application, a -purity and freshness remarkably contrasted to the former close and -foul condition prevailing throughout. A test of this, striking and -unexpected, was the change at different periods in the relative -condition of atmosphere of the courts and of the contiguous streets. In -their ordinary condition, as might have been expected, the atmosphere -was purer in the streets than in the courts; it was to be inferred that -the cleansing would have more nearly assimilated these conditions. This -was not only the case, but it was found to have effected a complete -change; the atmosphere of the courts at the close of the operations -being far fresher and purer than the atmosphere of the streets. The -effect produced was in every respect satisfactory and complete; and was -the theme of conversation with the lookers-on, and with the men who -conducted the operations. - -“The expense of these operations, including water, would be, for-- - -“Church-passage (time, five minutes), 1-1/2_d._ - -“Lloyd’s-court (time, ten minutes), 3-1/4_d._ - -“Mr. Hale, another officer, gave a similar statement.” - -Other experiments are thus detailed:-- - -“Lascelles-court, Broad-street, St. Giles’s. This court was pointed -out to me as one of the worst in London. Before cleansing it smelt -_intolerable_,” [_sic_] “and looked disgusting. Besides an abundance -of ordinary filth arising from the exposure of refuse, the surface -of the court contained heaps of human excrement, there being only -one privy to the whole court, and that not in a state to be publicly -used.... The cleansing operations were commenced by sprinkling the -court with deodorising fluid, mixed with 20 times its volume of water; -a great change, from a very pungent odour to an imperceptible smell, -was immediately effected; after which the refuse of the court was -washed away, and the pavement thoroughly cleansed by the hose and jet; -and now this place, which before was in a state almost indescribable, -presented an appearance of comparative comfort and respectability.” - -It is stated as the result of another experiment in “an ordinary wide -street with plenty of traffic,” that “water-carts and ordinary rains -only create the mud which the jet entirely removes, giving to the -pavement the appearance of having been as thoroughly cleansed as the -private stone steps in front of the houses.” - -With respect to Mr. Lee’s experiments in Sheffield, I find that Messrs. -Guest, of Rotherham, are patentees of a tap for the discharge of water -at high pressures, and that they had adapted their invention to the -purpose of a fire-plug and stand pipe suitable for street-cleansing by -the hose and jet. Church-street, one of the principal thoroughfares, -was experimentally cleansed by this process: “The carriage-way is from -20 to 24 feet wide, and about 150 yards long. It was washed almost -as clean as a house-floor in five minutes.” Mr. Lee expresses his -conviction that, by the agency of the hose and jet, every street in -that populous borough might be cleansed at about 1_s._ per annum for -each house. “The principal thoroughfares,” he states, “could be thus -made perfectly clean, three times every week, before business hours, -and the minor streets and lanes twice, or once per week, at later hours -in the day, by the agency of an abundant supply of water, at _less than -half the sum necessary for the cartage alone_ of an equal quantity of -refuse in a solid or semi-fluid condition.” - -The highways most frequented in Sheffield constitute about one-half of -the whole extent of the streets and roads in the borough, measuring 47 -miles. This length, Mr. Lee computes, might be effectually cleansed -with the hose and jet, ten miles of it three times a week, 21 miles -twice a week, and 16 miles once a week, a total of 88 miles weekly, or -4576 miles yearly. The quantity of Water required would be 3000 gallons -a mile, or a yearly total of 13,728,000 gallons. This water might be -supplied, Mr. Lee opines, at 1_d._ per 1000 gallons (57_l._ 4_s._ per -annum), although the price obtained by the Water-works Company was -6-1/2_d._ per 1000 gallons (371_l._ 16_s._ per annum). “I now proceed,” -he says, “to the cost of labour: 4576 miles per annum is equal to -14-2/3 miles for each working day, or to six sets of two men cleansing -2-1/2 miles per day each set. To these must be added three horses and -carts, and three carters, for the removal of such _débris_ as cannot be -washed away and for such parts of the town as cannot be cleansed by -this system, making a total of fifteen men. Their wages I would fix at -50_l._ per annum each. The estimate is as follows:-- - - “Annual interest upon the first cost - of hose and pipes, three horses and £ - carts 30 - Fifteen men’s wages 750 - Three horses’ provender 150 - Wear, tear, and depreciation of hose, &c. 250 - Management and incidentals, say 120 - ------ - £1300.” - -The estimate, it will be seen, is based on the supposition that _the -water supply should be at the public cost_, and not a specific charge -for the purposes of street-cleansing. - -The 47 miles of highway of Sheffield is but three miles less than those -of the city of London, the cost of cleansing which is, according to the -estimate before given, no less than 18,000_l._ - -The Sheffield account is divested of all calculations as to house-dust -and ashes, and the charge for watering-carts; but, taking merely the -sum paid to scavaging contractors, and assigning 1000_l._ (out of the -2485_l._), as the proportion of salaries, &c., under the department of -scavagery in the management of the City Commissioners, we find that -while the expense of street-cleansing by the Sheffield hose and jet -was little more than 34_l._, in London, by the ordinary mode, it was -upwards of 140_l._ per mile, or more than four times as much. The hose -and jet system is said to have washed the streets of Sheffield as clean -as a house-floor, which could not be said of it in London. The streets -of the City, it should also be borne in mind, are now swept daily; Mr. -Lee proposes only a periodical cleaning for Sheffield, or once, twice, -and thrice a week. Of the cost of the experiments made in London with -the hose and jet, in Lascelles-court, &c., nothing is said. - -Street-cleansing by the hose and jet is, then, as yet but an -experiment. It has not, like the street-orderly mode, been tested -continuously or systematically; but the experiments are so curious -and sometimes so startling in their results that it was necessary to -give a brief account of them here, in order to render this account of -the cleansing of the streets of the metropolis as comprehensive as -possible. For my own part, I must confess the street-orderly system -appears to excel all other modes of scavagery, producing at once the -greatest cleanliness with the greatest employment to the poor. Nor am -I so convinced as the theoretic and crotchety Board of Health as to -the healthfulness of dampness, or the daily evaporation of a sheet of -even clean water equal in extent to the entire surface of the London -streets. It is certainly _doubtful_, to say the least, whether so much -additional moisture might _improve_ the public health, which the Board -are instituted to protect; rain certainly contributes to cleanliness, -and yet no one would advocate continued wet weather as a source of -general convalescence. - -I shall conclude this account of the scavaging of London, with the -following brief statement as to the mode in which these matters are -conducted abroad. - -In Paris, where our system of parochial legislation and management -is unknown, the scavaging of the streets--so frequently matters of -private speculation with us--is under the immediate direction of the -municipality, and the Government publish the returns, as they do of the -revenue of their capital from the abattoirs, the interments, and other -sources. - -In the _Moniteur_ for December 10, 1848, it is stated that the refuse -of the streets of Paris sells for 500,500 francs (20,020_l._), -when sold by auction in the mass; and 3,800,000 francs (equal to -152,000_l._) when, after having lain in the proper receptacles, until -fit for manure, it is sold by the cubic foot. In 1823, the streets -of Paris were leased for 75,000 francs (3000_l._) per annum; in 1831 -the value was 166,000 francs (6640_l._); and since 1845 the price -has risen to the sum first named, viz., 500,500 francs (20,020_l._); -from which, however, is to be deducted the expense of cleansing, &c. -I may add, that the receptacles alluded to are large places provided -by Government, where the manure is deposited and left to ferment for -twelve or eighteen months. - - -OF THE COST AND TRAFFIC OF THE STREETS OF LONDON. - -I have, at page 183 of the present volume, given a brief statement of -the annual cost attending the keeping of the streets of the metropolis -in working order. - -The formation of the streets of a capital like London, the busiest in -the world--streets traversed daily by what Cowper, even in his day, -described as “the ten thousand wheels” of commerce--is an elaborate and -costly work. - -In my former account I gave an estimate which referred to the amount -dispensed weekly in wages for the labour of the workmen engaged in -laying down the paved roads of the metropolis. This was at the rate -of 100,000_l._ per week; that is to say, calculating the operation of -relaying the streets to occupy one year in every five, there is no -less than 5,200,000_l._ expended in that time among the workpeople -so engaged. The sum expended in labour for the continued repairs of -the roads, after being so relaid, appears to be about 20,000_l._ -per week[30], or, in round numbers, about 1,000,000_l._ a year; -so that the gross sum annually disbursed to the labourers engaged -in the construction of the roads of London would seem to be about -2,250,000_l._, that is to say, 1,000,000_l._ for repairing the old -roads, and 1,250,000_l._ per annum for laying down new ones in their -place. - -It now remains for me to set forth the gross cost of the metropolitan -highways, that is to say, the sum annually expended in both labour and -materials, as well for relaying as for repairing the roads. - -The granite-built streets cost, when relaid, about 11,000_l._ the -mile, of ten yards’ width, which is at the rate of 12_s._ 6_d._ the -square yard, materials and labour included, the granite (Aberdeen) -being 1_l._ 5_s._ per ton, and one ton of “seven-inch” being sufficient -to cover about three square yards. - -The average cost of a macadamized road, materials and labour included, -if constructed from the foundation, is about 4400_l._ per street mile -(ten yards wide)--5_s._ the superficial yard being a fair price for -materials and labour. - -Wood pavement, on the other hand, costs about 9680_l._ a mile of ten -yards’ width for materials and labour, which is at the rate of 11_s._ -the superficial yard. - -The cost of _repairs_, materials and labour included, is, for granite -pavement about 1-1/2_d._ per square yard, or 100_l._ the street mile of -ten yards wide; for “Macadam” it is from 6_d._ to 3_s._ 6_d._, or an -average of 1_s._ 6_d._ per superficial yard, which is at the rate of -1320_l._ the street mile; while the wood pavement costs about the same -for repairs as the granite. - -The total cost of repairing the streets of London, then, may be taken -as follows:-- - - Repairing granite-built streets, per £ - mile of ten yards wide 100 - Repairing macadamized roads, per - street mile 1320 - Repairing wood pavement, per street - mile 100 - -Or, as a total for all London,-- - - Repairing 400 miles of granite-built - streets, at 100l. per mile 40,000 - Repairing 1350 miles of macadamized - streets, at 1320l. per mile 1,782,000 - Repairing five miles of wood, at - 100_l._ per mile 500 - ---------- - £1,822,500 - -The following, on the other hand, may be taken as the total cost of -_reconstructing_ the London streets:-- - - £ - Granite-built streets, per mile ten yards wide 11,000 - Macadamized streets, per street mile 4,400 - Wood „ „ 9,680 - -Or, as a total for the entire streets and roads of London,-- - - Relaying 400 miles of granite-built £ - streets, at 11,000_l._ per mile 4,400,000 - Relaying 1350 miles of macadamized - streets, at 4400_l._ per mile 5,940,000 - Relaying five miles of wood-built - streets, at 9680_l._ 48,400 - ----------- - £10,388,400 - -But the above refers only to the road, and besides this, there is, as -a gentleman to whom I am much indebted for valuable information on -the subject, reminds me, the foot paving, granite curb, and granite -channel not included. The usual price for _paving_ is 8_d._ per foot -superficial, when laid--granite curb 1_s._ 7_d._ per foot run, and -granite channel 12_s._ per square yard. - -“Now, presuming that three-fourths of the roads,” says my informant, -“have paved footpaths on each side at an average width of six feet -exclusive of curb, and that one-half of the macadamized roads have -granite channels on each side, and that one-third of all the roads -have granite curb on each side; these items for 400 miles of granite -road, 1350 macadamized, and 5 miles of wood--together 1755 miles--will -therefore amount to - - £ _s._ _d._ - Three-fourths of 1755 miles of - streets paved on each side, - six feet wide, at 8_d._ per foot - superficial 2,779,392 0 0 - One-half of 1350 miles of macadamized - roads with one foot - of granite channel on each - side, at 12_s._ per yard square 458,537 4 5 - One-third of 1755 miles of road - with granite curb on each - side, at 1_s._ 7_d._ per foot run 489,060 0 0 - --------------------- - 3,726,989 4 5 - Cost of constructing 1755 miles - of roadway 10,388,400 0 0 - ---------------------- - Total cost of constructing the - streets of London £14,115,389 4 5 - -“Accordingly the original cost of the metropolitan pavements exceeds -fourteen millions sterling, and, calculating that this requires -renewal every five years, the gross annual expenditure will be at the -rate of 2,500,000_l._ per annum, which, added to 1,822,500_l._, gives -4,322,500_l._, or upwards of four millions and a quarter sterling for -the entire annual cost of the London roadways. - -“From rather extensive experience,” adds my informant, “in building -operations, and consequently in making and paying for roads, I am of -opinion that the amount I have shown is under rather than above the -actual cost. - -“In a great many parts of the metropolis the roads are made by the -servants of a body of Commissioners appointed for the purpose; and -from dear-bought experience I can say they are a public nuisance, and -would earnestly caution speculating builders against taking building -ground or erecting houses in any place where the roads are under -their control. The Commissioners are generally old retired tradesmen, -and have very little to occupy their attention, and are often quite -ignorant of their duties; I have reason to believe, too, that some of -them even use their little authority to gratify their dislike to some -poor builder in their district, by meddling and quibbling, and while -that is going on the houses which have been erected can neither be let -nor sold; so that as the bills given for the materials keep running, -the builder, when they fall due, is ruined, for his creditors will not -take his unlet houses for their debts, and no one else will purchase -them until let, for none will rent them without proper accesses. -I feel certain that in those parts where the roads are made by -Commissioners three times more builders, in proportion to their number, -get into difficulties than in the districts where they are permitted to -make the roads themselves.” - -The paved ways and roads of London, then, it appears, cost in round -numbers 10,000,000_l._ sterling, and require nearly 2,000,000_l._ to be -expended upon them annually for repairs. - -But this is not the sole expense attendant upon the construction of -the streets of the metropolis. Frequently, in the formation of new -lines of thoroughfare, large masses of property have to be bought up, -removed, and new buildings erected at considerable cost. In a return -made pursuant to an order of the Court of Common Council, dated 23rd -October, 1851, for “An account of all moneys which have been raised -for public works executed, buildings erected, or street improvements -effected, out of the Coal Duties receivable by the Corporation of -London in the character of trustees for administration or otherwise, -since the same were made chargeable by Parliament for such purposes in -the year 1766,” the following items are given relating to the cost of -the formation of new streets and improvements of old ones:-- - - -_Street Improvements forming New Thoroughfares._ - - Amount raised - for Public - Works, &c. - Building the bridge across the river £. _s._ _d._ - Thames, from Blackfriars, in the city - of London, to Upper Ground-street, in - the county of Surrey, now called - Blackfriars Bridge, and forming the - avenues thereto, and embanking the - north abutment of the said bridge--(Entrusted - to the Corporation of the - city of London) 210,000 0 0 - - Making a new line of streets from Moorfields, - opposite Chiswell-street, towards - the east into Bishopsgate-street - (now Crown-street and Sun-street), - also from the east end of Chiswell-street - westward into Barbican--(Corporation - of the city of London) 16,500 0 0 - - Making a new street from Crispin-street, - near Spitalfields Church, into Bishopsgate-street - (now called Union-street), - in the city of London and in the - county of Middlesex--(Commissioners - named in Act 18, George III., c. 78) 9,000 0 0 - - Opening communications between Wapping-street - and Ratcliffe-highway, and - between Old Gravel-lane and Virginia-street, - all in the county of Middlesex--(Commissioners - appointed under Act 17, Geo. III., c. 22) 1,000 0 0 - - Formation of Farringdon-street, removal - of Fleet-market, and erection of Farringdon-market, - in the city of London--(Corporation - of the city of London) 250,000 0 0 - - Formation of a new street from the end - of Coventry-street to the junction of - Newport-street and Long-acre (Cranbourn-street), - continuing the line of street from Waterloo - Bridge, already completed to Bow-street (Upper - Wellington-street), and thence northward into - Broad-street, Holborn, and thence - to Charlotte-street, Bloomsbury, extending - Oxford-street in a direct line - through St. Giles’s, so as to communicate - with Holborn at or near Southampton-street - (New Oxford-street); also widening the northern - and southern extremities of Leman-street, - Goodman’s-fields, and forming a new - street from the northern side of - Whitechapel to the front of Spitalfields - Church (Commercial-street), - and forming a new street from Rosemary-lane - to East Smithfield, near to - the entrance of the London-docks; - also formation of a street from the - neighbourhood of the Houses of Parliament - towards Buckingham Palace, - in the city of Westminster (Victoria-street), - all in the county of Middlesex; - also formation of a line of new street - between Southwark and Westminster - Bridges, in the county of Surrey--(Her - Majesty’s Commissioners of - Woods, Forests, and Land Revenues) 665,000 0 0 - NOTE.--The Commissioners of Her - Majesty’s Woods have been authorised - to raise further moneys on the - credit of the duty of 1_d._ per ton for - further improvements in the neighbourhood - of Spitalfields, but the - Chamberlain is not officially cognizant - of the amount. - Forming a new street from the northern - end of Victoria-street, Holborn (formed - by the Corporation to Clerkenwell-green, - all in the county of Middlesex)--(Clerkenwell - Improvement Commissioners) 25,000 0 0 - Formation of a new line of streets from - King William-street, London Bridge, - to the south side of St. Paul’s Cathedral, - by widening and improving - Cannon-street, making a new street - from Cannon-street, near Bridge-row, - to Queen-street, and another street - from the west side of Queen-street, in - a direct line to St. Paul’s-churchyard, - and widening Queen-street, from the - junction of the said new street to - Southwark Bridge; also improving - Holborn Bridge and Field-lane, and - effecting an improvement in Gracechurch-street - and Ship Tavern-passage, - all in the city of London--(Corporation - of the city of London) 500,000 0 0 - Finishing the new street left incomplete - by the Clerkenwell Improvement Commissioners, - from the end of Victoria-street, - Farringdon-street, to Coppice-row, - Clerkenwell, all in the county of - Middlesex--(Corporation of the City - of London) 88,000 0 0 - ------------------- - Total cost of forming the above-mentioned - new thoroughfares 1,764,500 0 0 - - -_Improving existing Thoroughfares._ - - Improving existing approaches, and - forming new approaches to new London - Bridge, viz., in High-street, - Tooley-street, Montague-close, Pepper-alley, - Whitehorse-court, Chequer-court, - Chaingate, Churchyard-passage, - St. Saviour’s churchyard, Carter-lane, - Boar’s-head-place, Fryingpan-alley, - Green Dragon-court, Joyner-street, - Red Lion-street, Counter-street, Three - Crown-court, and the east front of - the Town Hall, all in the Borough of - Southwark; also ground and premises - at the north-west foot of London - Bridge, Upper Thames-street, Red-cross-wharf, - Mault’s-wharf, High - Timber-street and Broken-wharf, - Swan-passage, Churchyard-alley, site - of Fishmonger’s Hall, Great Eastcheap, - Little Eastcheap, Star-court, - Fish-street-hill, Little Tower-street, - Idol-lane, St. Mary-at-hill, Crooked-lane, - Miles-lane, Three Tun-alley, - Warren-court, Cannon-street, Gracechurch-street, - Bell-yard, Martin’s-lane, - Nicholas-lane, Clement’s-lane, Abchurch-lane, - Sherborne-lane, Swithin’s-lane, - Cornhill, Lombard-street, - Dove-court, Fox Ordinary-court, Old - Post Office Chambers, Mansion-house-street, - Princes-street, Coleman-street, - Coleman-street-buildings, Moorgate-street, - London Wall, Lothbury, - Tokenhouse-yard, King’s Arms-yard, - Great Bell-alley, Packer’s-court, - White’s-alley, Great Swan-alley, - Crown-court, George-yard, Red Lion-court, - Cateaton-street, Gresham-street, - Milk-street, Wood-street, King-street, - Basinghall-street, Houndsditch, Lad-lane, - Threadneedle-street, Aldgate - High-street, and Maiden-lane, all in - the City of London--(Corporation of - the City of London) 1,016,421 18 1 - Widening and improving the entrance - into London near Temple-bar, improving - the Strand and Fleet-street, - and formation of Pickett-street, and - for making a new street from the - east end of Snow-hill to the bottom of - Holborn-hill, now called Skinner-street--(Corporation - of the City of London) 246,300 0 0 - Widening and improving Dirty-lane and - part of Brick-lane, leading from Whitechapel - to Spitalfields, and for paving - Dirty-lane, Petticoat-lane, Wentworth-street, - Old Montague-street, - Chapel-street, Princes-row, &c., all in - the county of Middlesex--(Commissioners - appointed by the Act 18, Geo. - III., c. 80) 1,500 0 0 - Widening the avenues from the Minories, - through Goodman’s-yard into - Prescott-street, and through Swan-street - and Swan-alley into Mansell-street, - and from Whitechapel through - Somerset-street into Great Mansell-street, - all in the county of Middlesex--(Commissioners - named in Act 18, - George III., c. 50) 1,500 0 0 - ------------------- - Total cost of improving the above-mentioned - thoroughfares 1,265,721 13 1 - - -_Paving._ - - Paving the road from Aldersgate Bars to - turnpike in Goswell-street, in the - county of Middlesex--(Commissioners - Sewers, &c., of the City of London) 5,500 0 0 - Completing the paving of the town - borough of Southwark and certain - parts adjacent--(Commissioners for - executing Act 6, George III., for paving - town and borough of Southwark) 4,000 0 0 - --------------- - Total cost of paving the above-mentioned - thoroughfares 9,500 0 0 - - -Hence the aggregate expense of the preceding improvements has been -upwards of 3,000,000_l._ sterling. - -I have now, in order to complete this account of the cost of paving -and cleansing the thoroughfares of the metropolis, only to add the -following statement as to the traffic of the principal thoroughfares in -the city of London, for which I am indebted to Mr. Haywood, the City -Surveyor. - -By the subjoined Return it will be seen that there are two tides as -it were in the daily current of locomotion in the City--the one being -at its flood at 11 o’clock A.M., after which it falls gradually till -2 o’clock, when it is at its lowest ebb, and then begins to rise, -gradually till 5 o’clock, when it reaches its second flood, and then -begins to decline once more. The point of greatest traffic in the -City is London-bridge, where the conveyances passing and repassing -amount to 13,099 in the course of twelve hours[31]. Of these it would -appear, that 9351 consist of one-horse vehicles and equestrians, 3389 -of two-horse conveyances, and only 359 of vehicles drawn by more than -two horses. The one-horse vehicles would seem to be between two and -three times as many as the two-horse, which form about one-fourth of -the whole, while those drawn by more than two horses constitute about -one-sixtieth of the entire number. - -The Return does not mention the state of the weather on the several -days and hours at which the observations were made, nor does it -tell us whether there was any public event occurring on those days -which was likely to swell or diminish the traffic beyond its usual -proportions. The table, moreover, it should be remembered, is confined -to the observations of only one day in each locality, so that we must -be guarded in receiving that which records a mere accidental set of -circumstances as an example of the general course of events. It would -have been curious to have extended the observations throughout the -night, and so have ascertained the difference in the traffic; and also -to have noted the decrease in the number of vehicles passing during a -continuously wet as well as a showery day. The observations should be -further carried out to different seasons, in order to be rendered of -the highest value. Mr. Haywood and the City authorities would really be -conferring a great boon on the public by so doing. - - -OF THE RUBBISH CARTERS. - -The public cleansing trade, I have before said, consists of as many -divisions as there are distinct species of refuse to be removed, and -these appear to be four. There is the _house_-refuse, consisting of -two different kinds, as (1) the wet house-refuse or “slops,” and -“night-soil,” and (2) the dry house-refuse, or dust and soot; and there -is the _street_-refuse, also consisting of two distinct kinds, as (3) -the wet street-refuse, or mud and dirt; and (4) the dry street-refuse -or “rubbish.” - -I now purpose dealing with the labourers engaged in the collection and -removal of the last-mentioned kind of refuse. - -Technologically there are several varieties of “rubbish,” or rather -“_dirt_,” for such appears to be the generic term, of which “rubbish” -is _strictly_ a species. Dirt, according to the understanding among -the rubbish-carters, would seem to consist of any solid earthy matter, -which is of an useless or refuse character. This dirt the trade divides -into two distinct kinds, viz.:-- - -1. “Soft dirt,” or refuse clay (of which “dry dirt,” or refuse soil or -mould, is a variety). - -2. “Hard-dirt,” or “hard-core,” consisting of the refuse bricks, -chimney-pots, slates, &c., when a house is pulled down, as well as the -broken bottles, pans, pots, or crocks, and oyster-shells, &c., which -form part of the contents of the dustman’s cart. - -The phrase “hard-core”[32] seems strictly to mean all such refuse -matter as will admit of being used as the foundation of roads, -buildings, &c. “Rubbish,” on the other hand, appears to be limited, by -the trade, to “dry dirt;” out of the trade, however, and etymologically -speaking, it signifies all such _dry_ and _hard_ refuse matter as is -rendered useless by wear and tear[33]. The term _dirt_, on the other -hand, is generally applied to _soft_ refuse matter, and _dust_ to -_dry_ refuse matter in a state of minute division, while _slops_ is -the generic term for all _wet_ or _liquid_ refuse matter. I shall here -restrict the term rubbish to all that dry and hard refuse matter which -is the residuum of certain worn-out or “used-up” earthen commodities, -as well as the surplus earth which is removed whenever excavations are -made, either for the building of houses, the cutting of railways, the -levelling of roads, the laying down of pipes or drains, and the sinking -of wells. - - -STREET TRAFFIC. - - -TABLE SHOWING THE NUMBER OF VEHICLES AND HORSES PASSING THROUGH CERTAIN -THOROUGHFARES WITHIN THE CITY OF LONDON, BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 8 A.M. -AND 8 P.M., UPON CERTAIN DAYS DURING THE YEAR 1850. - - +---------------+----------------------+-------------------+ - | | Hour ending | - | | 9 A.M. | - | +-------------------+ - | | Vehicles | - | | drawn by | - | +-------------------+ - Date. | Situation. |1 Horse and | - | | Equestrians. | - | | |2 Horses. | - | | | |3 Horses | - | | | |or more. | - +---------------+----------------------+----+----+---------+ - 8th July, 1850.|Temple Bar Gate | 230| 61| 20 |A - 9th „ „ |Holborn Hill, | | | | - | by St. Andrew’s | | | | - | Church | 250| 65| 12 |B - 10th „ „ |Ludgate Hill, | | | | - | by Pilgrim-street | 268| 76| 17 |C - 11th „ „ |Newgate-street, | | | | - | by Old Bailey | 250| 59| 11 |D - 12th „ „ |Aldersgate-street, | | | | - | by Fann-street | 140| 20| 8 |E - 13th „ „ |Cheapside, | | | | - | by Foster-lane | 345| 110| 18 |F - 15th „ „ |Poultry, | | | | - | by Mansion House | 287| 103| 24 |G - 16th „ „ |Finsbury Pavement, | | | | - | by South-place | 185| 63| 14 |H - 17th „ „ |Cornhill, | | | | - | by Royal Exchange | 98| 56| 7 |I - | | | | | - 18th „ „ |Threadneedle-street | 47| 47| 4 |J - 19th „ „ |Gracechurch-street, | | | | - | by St. Peter’s-alley| 202| 50| 6 |K - 20th „ „ |Lombard-street, | | | | - | by Birchin-lane | 121| 15| 1 |L - 22nd „ „ |Bishopsgate Within, | | | | - | by Great St. Helen’s| 194| 58| 7 |M - | | | | | - 23rd „ „ |London Bridge | 519| 139| 22 |N - 24th „ „ |Bishopsgate-street | | | | - | With^t, | | | | - | by City bound^y | 148| 51| 4 |O - 25th „ „ |Aldgate High-street, | | | | - | by ditto | 335| 68| 22 |P - 26th „ „ |Leadenhall-st., | | | | - | rear of East India | | | | - | House | 193| 45| 13 |Q - 27th „ „ |Eastcheap, | | | | - | by Philpot-lane | 274| 35| 26 |R - 29th „ „ |Tower-street, | | | | - | by Mark-lane | 132| 22| 15 |S - 30th „ „ |Lower Thames-street, | | | | - | by Botolph-lane | 79| 7| 2 |T - | | | | | - 31st „ „ |Blackfriars Bridge | 268| 42| 17 |U - 1st Aug. „ |Upper Thames-street, | | | | - | rear of Queen-street| 97| 28| 15 |V - | | | | | - 2nd „ „ |Smithfield Bars | 180| 16| 7 |W - | | | | | - 3rd „ „ |Fenchurch-street | 175| 20| 11 |X - | +----+----+---------+ - | |5017|1256|6421 | - +---------------+----------------------+----+----+---------+ - +---------------+----------------------+-------------------+ - | | Hour ending | - | | 10 A.M. | - | +-------------------+ - | | Vehicles | - | | drawn by | - | +-------------------+ - Date. | Situation. |1 Horse and | - | | Equestrians. | - | | |2 Horses. | - | | | |3 Horses | - | | | |or more. | - +---------------+----------------------+----+----+---------+ - 8th July, 1850.|Temple Bar Gate | 292| 192| 42 |A - 9th „ „ |Holborn Hill, | | | | - | by St. Andrew’s | | | | - | Church | 380| 166| 6 |B - 10th „ „ |Ludgate Hill, | | | | - | by Pilgrim-street | 290| 170| 16 |C - 11th „ „ |Newgate-street, | | | | - | by Old Bailey | 360| 155| 13 |D - 12th „ „ |Aldersgate-street, | | | | - | by Fann-street | 198| 52| 11 |E - 13th „ „ |Cheapside, | | | | - | by Foster-lane | 483| 301| 21 |F - 15th „ „ |Poultry, | | | | - | by Mansion House | 437| 315| 10 |G - 16th „ „ |Finsbury Pavement, | | | | - | by South-place | 252| 123| 10 |H - 17th „ „ |Cornhill, | | | | - | by Royal Exchange | 172| 177| 15 |I - | | | | | - 18th „ „ |Threadneedle-street | 67| 77| 1 |J - 19th „ „ |Gracechurch-street, | | | | - | by St. Peter’s-alley| 200| 99| 23 |K - 20th „ „ |Lombard-street, | | | | - | by Birchin-lane | 87| 28| 2 |L - 22nd „ „ |Bishopsgate Within, | | | | - | by Great St. Helen’s| 253| 144| 11 |M - | | | | | - 23rd „ „ |London Bridge | 744| 339| 45 |N - 24th „ „ |Bishopsgate-street | | | | - | With^t, | | | | - | by City bound^y | 197| 121| 11 |O - 25th „ „ |Aldgate High-street, | | | | - | by ditto | 291| 111| 20 |P - 26th „ „ |Leadenhall-st., | | | | - | rear of East India | | | | - House | 272| 141| 16 |Q - 27th „ „ |Eastcheap, | | | | - | by Philpot-lane | 293| 40| 13 |R - 29th „ „ |Tower-street, | | | | - | by Mark-lane | 180| 37| 5 |S - 30th „ „ |Lower Thames-street, | | | | - | by Botolph-lane | 117| 10| 3 |T - | | | | | - 31st „ „ |Blackfriars Bridge | 280| 78| 23 |U - 1st Aug. „ |Upper Thames-street, | | | | - | rear of Queen-street| 172| 43| 12 |V - | | | | | - 2nd „ „ |Smithfield Bars | 206| 18| 6 |W - | | | | | - 3rd „ „ |Fenchurch-street | 198| 60| 4 |X - +---------------+----------------------+----+--------------+ - | |6421|2997| 339 | - +---------------+----------------------+----+----+---------+ - +---------------+----------------------+-------------------+ - | | Hour ending | - | | 11 A.M. | - | +-------------------+ - | | Vehicles | - | | drawn by | - | +-------------------+ - Date. | Situation. |1 Horse and | - | | Equestrians. | - | | |2 Horses. | - | | | |3 Horses | - | | | |or more. | - +---------------+----------------------+----+----+---------+ - 8th July, 1850.|Temple Bar Gate | 448| 235| 21 |A - 9th „ „ |Holborn Hill, | | | | - | by St. Andrew’s | | | | - | Church | 480| 181| 9 |B - 10th „ „ |Ludgate Hill, | | | | - | by Pilgrim-street | 454| 261| 13 |C - 11th „ „ |Newgate-street, | | | | - | by Old Bailey | 433| 184| 11 |D - 12th „ „ |Aldersgate-street, | | | | - | by Fann-street | 150| 44| 14 |E - 13th „ „ |Cheapside, | | | | - | by Foster-lane | 703| 385| 36 |F - 15th „ „ |Poultry, | | | | - | by Mansion House | 654| 398| 19 |G - 16th „ „ |Finsbury Pavement, | | | | - | by South-place | 330| 138| 7 |H - 17th „ „ |Cornhill, | | | | - | by Royal Exchange | 252| 210| 17 |I - | | | | | - 18th „ „ |Threadneedle-street | 162| 97| 3 |J - 19th „ „ |Gracechurch-street, | | | | - | by St. Peter’s-alley| 308| 113| 18 |K - 20th „ „ |Lombard-street, | | | | - | by Birchin-lane | 140| 12| 4 |L - 22nd „ „ |Bishopsgate Within, | | | | - | by Great St. Helen’s| 323| 164| 13 |M - | | | | | - 23rd „ „ |London Bridge | 955| 334| 43 |N - 24th „ „ |Bishopsgate-street | | | | - | With^t, | | | | - | by City bound^y | 310| 134| 3 |O - 25th „ „ |Aldgate High-street, | | | | - | by ditto | 292| 115| 10 |P - 26th „ „ |Leadenhall-st., | | | | - | rear of East India | | | | - | House | 388| 196| 11 |Q - 27th „ „ |Eastcheap, | | | | - | by Philpot-lane | 340| 46| 12 |R - 29th „ „ |Tower-street, | | | | - | by Mark-lane | 220| 32| 10 |S - 30th „ „ |Lower Thames-street, | | | | - | by Botolph-lane | 153| 15| 7 |T - | | | | | - 31st „ „ |Blackfriars Bridge | 409| 99| 10 |U - 1st Aug. „ |Upper Thames-street, | | | | - | rear of Queen-street| 126| 28| 11 |V - | | | | | - 2nd „ „ |Smithfield Bars | 180| 16| 6 |W - | | | | | - 3rd „ „ |Fenchurch-street | 205| 41| 7 |X - +---------------+----------------------+----+----+---------+ - | |8415|3478| 315 | - +---------------+----------------------+----+----+---------+ - +---------------+----------------------+-------------------+ - | | Hour ending | - | | 12 A.M. | - | +-------------------+ - | | Vehicles | - | | drawn by | - | +-------------------+ - Date. | Situation. |1 Horse and | - | | Equestrians. | - | | |2 Horses. | - | | | |3 Horses | - | | | |or more. | - +---------------+----------------------+----+----+---------+ - 8th July, 1850.|Temple Bar Gate | 505| 222| 30 |A - 9th „ „ |Holborn Hill, | | | | - | by St. Andrew’s | | | | - | Church | 530| 154| 14 |B - 10th „ „ |Ludgate Hill, | | | | - | by Pilgrim-street | 420| 210| 6 |C - 11th „ „ |Newgate-street, | | | | - | by Old Bailey | 367| 137| 5 |D - 12th „ „ |Aldersgate-street, | | | | - | by Fann-street | 147| 36| 13 |E - 13th „ „ |Cheapside, | | | | - | by Foster-lane | 768| 390| 11 |F - 15th „ „ |Poultry, | | | | - | by Mansion House | 690| 373| 17 |G - 16th „ „ |Finsbury Pavement, | | | | - | by South-place | 250| 129| 8 |H - 17th „ „ |Cornhill, | | | | - | by Royal Exchange | 270| 184| 7 |I - | | | | | - 18th „ „ |Threadneedle-street | 160| 50 | 4 |J - 19th „ „ |Gracechurch-street, | | | | - | by St. Peter’s-alley| 320| 175| 12 |K - 20th „ „ |Lombard-street, | | | | - | by Birchin-lane | 174| 14| .. |L - 22nd „ „ |Bishopsgate Within, | | | | - | by Great St. Helen’s| 277| 143| 10 |M - | | | | | - 23rd „ „ |London Bridge | 820| 274| 30 |N - 24th „ „ |Bishopsgate-street | | | | - | With^t, | | | | - | by City bound^y | 170| 109| 7 |O - 25th „ „ |Aldgate High-street, | | | | - | by ditto | 287| 145| 10 |P - 26th „ „ |Leadenhall-st., | | | | - | rear of East India | | | | - | House | 340| 150| 5 |Q - 27th „ „ |Eastcheap, | | | | - | by Philpot-lane | 320| 34| 18 |R - 29th „ „ |Tower-street, | | | | - | by Mark-lane | 220| 39| 12 |S - 30th „ „ |Lower Thames-street, | | | | - | by Botolph-lane | 90| 7| 8 |T - | | | | | - 31st „ „ |Blackfriars Bridge | 393| 89| 34 |U - 1st Aug. „ |Upper Thames-street, | | | | - | rear of Queen-street| 160| 42| 21 |V - | | | | | - 2nd „ „ |Smithfield Bars | 254| 14| 9 |W - | | | | | - 3rd „ „ |Fenchurch-street | 298| 39| 6 |X - +---------------+----------------------+----+----+---------+ - | |8230|3159| 297 | - +---------------+----------------------+----+----+---------+ - - +------------------+------------------+------------------+------------------+ - | Hour | Hour | Hour | Hour | - | ending | ending | ending | ending | - | 1 P.M. | 2 P.M. | 3 P.M. | 4 P.M. | - +------------------+------------------+------------------+------------------+ - | Vehicles | Vehicles | Vehicles | Vehicles | - | drawn by | drawn by | drawn by | drawn by | - +------------------+------------------+------------------+------------------+ - |Horses and |Horses and |Horses and |Horses and | - | Equestrians. | Equestrians. | Equestrians. | Equestrians. | - | |2 Horses. | |2 Horses. | |2 Horses. | |2 Horses. | - | | |3 Horses| | |3 Horses| | |3 Horses| | |3 Horses| - | | |or more.| | |or more.| | |or more.| | |or more.| - +----+----+--------+----+----+--------+----+----+--------+----+----+--------+ - A| 460| 218| 13 | 415| 230| 19 | 550| 231| 10 | 496| 237| 4 | - B| 453| 160| 10 | 435| 158| 13 | 373| 50| 12 | 270| 100| 7 | - C| 530| 256| 3 | 330| 180| 4 | 400| 221| 7 | 288| 242| 1 | - D| 390| 156| 9 | 377| 155| 5 | 390| 167| 7 | 525| 201| 12 | - E| 165| 40| 9 | 180| 49| 6 | 150| 32| 12 | 172| 40| 7 | - F| 680| 334| 6 | 664| 336| 9 | 665| 338| 4 | 730| 339| 7 | - G| 680| 358| 5 | 595| 337| 9 | 548| 321| 6 | 575| 330| 5 | - H| 243| 115| 6 | 223| 118| 4 | 184| 107| 2 | 215| 128| 4 | - I| 275| 208| 4 | 253| 180| 8 | 305| 185| 3 | 276| 172| 3 | - J| 160| 50| 1 | 120| 32| 2 | 164| 46| 2 | 157| 37| 1 | - K| 295| 87| 10 | 330| 81| 12 | 360| 93| 11 | 375| 123| 18 | - L| 160| 9| .. | 215| 15| 2 | 227| 9| 1 | 283| 20| 1 | - M| 260| 125| 11 | 164| 70| 4 | 320| 113| 6 | 287| 140| 5 | - N| 775| 296| 23 | 765| 255| 28 | 793| 284| 24 | 845| 305| 30 | - O| 191| 112| 4 | 243| 96| 3 | 285| 97| 8 | 231| 103| 1 | - P| 300| 135| 10 | 249| 123| 7 | 260| 112| 17 | 274| 122| 13 | - Q| 415| 168| 11 | 385| 171| 7 | 353| 158| 14 | 387| 172| 10 | - R| 340| 27| 11 | 300| 28| 15 | 310| 38| 20 | 345| 40| 8 | - S| 260| 26| 6 | 270| 39| 15 | 252| 34| 4 | 226| 26| 10 | - T| 83| 21| 1 | 100| 8| .. | 100| 15| 3 | 130| 13| 4 | - U |365| 78| 22 | 253| 65| 18 | 302| 73| 10 | 340| 66| 10 | - V| 160| 35| 10 | 120| 31| 9 | 125| 33| 6 | 160| 44| 9 | - W| 252| 18| 6 | 232| 19| 4 | 305| 20| 9 | 250| 11| 6 | - X| 240| 45| 8 | 223| 39| 7 | 220| 46| 6 | 267| 54| 6 | - +----+----+--------+-----+---+--------+----+---+---------+----+----+--------+ - |8132|3077| 199 |7441|2815| 210 |7941|2923| 204 |8104|3065| 182 | - +----+----+--------+----+----+--------+----+----+--------+----+----+--------+ - - +------------------+------------------+------------------+------------------ - | Hour | Hour | Hour | Hour - | ending | ending | ending | ending - | 5 P.M. | 6 P.M. | 7 P.M. | 8 P.M. - +------------------+------------------+------------------+------------------ - | Vehicles | Vehicles | Vehicles | Vehicles - | drawn by | drawn by | drawn by | drawn by - +------------------+------------------+------------------+------------------ - |Horses and |Horses and |Horses and |Horses and - | Equestrians. | Equestrians. | Equestrians. | Equestrians. - | |2 Horses. | |2 Horses. | |2 Horses. | |2 Horses. - | | |3 Horses| | |3 Horses| | |3 Horse | | |3 Horse - | | |or more.| | |or more.| | |or more.| | |or more. - +----+----+--------+----+----+--------+----+----+--------+----+----+-------- - A| 470| 255| 13 | 435| 219| 17 | 329| 200| 8 | 405| 198| 11 - B| 639| 251| 25 | 330| 111| 4 | 615| 209| 17 | 219| 92| 6 - C| 375| 235| 9 | 360| 220| 4 | 330| 210| 3 | 214| 202| 4 - D| 390| 177| 5 | 415| 142| 6 | 337| 126| 4 | 250| 136| 8 - E| 187| 36| 12 | 185| 40| 8 | 175| 44| 10 | 141| 46| 11 - F| 671| 427| 8 | 645| 303| 16 | 482| 319| 7 | 271| 212| 9 - G| 565| 381| 10 | 505| 310| 10 | 455| 344| 3 | 292| 299| 4 - H| 340| 135| 8 | 300| 159| 16 | 242| 142| 16 | 140| 101| 3 - I| 255| 206| 7 | 242| 180| 8 | 177| 176| 1 | 186| 140| 1 - J| 150| 45| 3 | 157| 45| 3 | 115| 30| 3 | 77| 31| .. - K| 302| 135| 24 | 310| 113| 13 | 253| 79| 6 | 250| 75| 6 - L| 223| 20| .. | 180| 26| 3 | 115| 15| .. | 94| 12| .. - M| 380| 150| 11 | 320| 123| 7 | 270| 127| 7 | 222| 120| 3 - N| 975| 336| 33 | 970| 305| 33 | 680| 264| 18 | 510| 258| 30 - O| 309| 113| 8 | 305| 126| 8 | 203| 112| 8 | 177| 99| 3 - P| 248| 141| 16 | 276| 110| 15 | 220| 100| 11 | 190| 96| 3 - Q| 295| 166| 5 | 390| 183| 15 | 292| 139| 6 | 260| 152| 6 - R| 340| 43| 15 | 280| 58| 11 | 230| 59| 5 | 109| 16| 3 - S| 230| 39| 13 | 195| 34| 9 | 137| 25| 2 | 94| 16| 4 - T| 143| 23| 2 | 100| 15| 6 | 52| 14| 3 | 40| 4| 2 - U| 450| 103| 17 | 446| 87| 15 | 361| 89| 13 | 265| 66| 6 - V| 185| 52| 16 | 241| 54| 17 | 139| 25| 12 | 71| 13| 9 - W| 305| 17| 6 | 265| 20| 4 | 269| 10| 9 | 145| 14| .. - X| 300| 57| 7 |215| 36| 8 | 193| 53| 3 | 516| 28| 1 - +----+----+--------+----+----+--------+----+----+--------+----+----+-------- - |8727|3543| 273 |8067|3019| 256 |6671|2911| 175 |5138|2426| 133 - +----+----+--------+----+----+--------+----+----+--------+----+----+-------- - - -TABLE SHOWING TOTALS OF EVERY DESCRIPTION OF VEHICLE PASSING PER HOUR -AND PER DAY OF 12 HOURS THROUGH CERTAIN STREETS WITHIN THE CITY OF -LONDON. - - -------+--------------------+-----------------------------------------------------------------------+------+-------+ - | | HOURS ENDING |Total |Average| - | +-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+ of 12| per | - Date. | Situation. | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | Hours| Hour. | - | |A. M.|A. M.|A. M.| Noon|P. M.|P. M.|P. M.|P. M.|P. M.|P. M.|P. M.|P. M.| | | - -------+--------------------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+-------+ - 1850. | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - July 8 |Temple Bar Gate | 311| 526| 704| 757| 691| 664| 791| 737| 738| 671| 537| 614| 7741| 645 | - „ 9 | Holborn-hill, | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | by St. And. Ch. | 327| 552| 670| 698| 623| 606| 535| 377| 915| 445| 841| 317| 6906| 575 | - „ 10 |Ludgate-hill, | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | by Pilgrim-st. | 361| 476| 728| 636| 789| 514| 628| 531| 619| 584| 543| 420| 6829| 569 | - „ 11 |Newgate-st., | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | by Old Bailey | 320| 528| 628| 509| 555| 537| 564| 738| 572| 563| 467| 394| 6375| 531 | - „ 12 |Aldersgate-st., | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | by Fann-st. | 168| 261| 208| 196| 214| 235| 194| 219| 235| 233| 229| 198| 2590| 215 | - „ 13 |Cheapside, | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | by Foster-lane | 473| 805| 1124| 1169| 1020| 1009| 1007| 1076| 1106| 964| 808| 492| 11053| 921 | - „ 15 |Poultry, | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | by Mansion House | 414| 762| 1071| 1080| 1043| 941| 875| 910| 956| 825| 802| 595| 10274| 856 | - „ 16 |Finsbury-pave., | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | by South-pl | 262| 385| 475| 387| 364| 345| 293| 347| 483| 475| 400| 244| 4460| 371 | - „ 17 |Cornhill, | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | by Roy. Exchange | 161| 364| 479| 461| 487| 441| 493| 451| 468| 430| 354| 327| 4916| 409 | - „ 18 |Threadneedle-street | 98| 145| 262| 214| 211| 154| 212| 195| 198| 205| 148| 108| 2150| 179 | - „ 19 |Gracech-st., | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | by St. Pet.-alley | 258| 322| 439| 507| 392| 423| 464| 516| 461| 436| 338| 331| 4887| 407 | - „ 20 |Lombard-st., | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | by Birchin-la | 137| 117| 156| 188| 169| 232| 237| 304| 243| 209| 130| 106| 2228| 185 | - „ 22 |Bishopsg.-st., | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | by Gt St. Hel. | 259| 408| 500| 430| 396| 238| 439| 432| 541| 450| 404| 345| 4842| 403 | - „ 23 |London Bridge | 680| 1128| 1332| 1124| 1094| 1048| 1101| 1180| 1344| 1308| 962| 798| 13099| 1091 | - „ 24 |Bishp.-st. out, | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | by Cy. Bound | 203| 329| 447| 286| 307| 342| 390| 335| 430| 439| 323| 279| 4110| 342 | - „ 25 |Aldgate High-street,| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | by Cy. Bound | 425| 422| 417| 442| 445| 379| 389| 409| 405| 401| 331| 289| 4754| 396 | - „ 26 |Leadenhall-st., | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | E. I. House | 251| 429| 595| 495| 594| 563| 525| 569| 466| 588| 437| 418| 5930| 494 | - „ 27 |Eastcheap, | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | by Philpot-lane | 335| 346| 398| 372| 378| 343| 368| 393| 398| 349| 294| 128| 4102| 341 | - „ 29 |Tower-street, | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | by Mark-lane | 169| 222| 262| 271| 292| 324| 290| 262| 282| 238| 164| 114| 2890| 240 | - „ 30 |L. Thames-st, | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | by Botolph-la | 88| 130| 175| 105| 105| 108| 118| 147| 168| 121| 69| 46| 1380| 115 | - „ 31 |Blackfriars Bridge | 327| 381| 518| 516| 465| 336| 385| 416| 570| 548| 463| 337| 5262| 438 | - Aug. 1 |U. Thames-st., | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | - | rear of Qn.-st | 140| 227| 165| 223| 205| 160| 164| 213| 253| 312| 176| 93| 2331| 194 | - „ 2 | Smithfield Bars | 203| 230| 202| 277| 276| 255| 334| 267| 328| 289| 288| 159| 3108| 259 | - „ 3 | Fenchurch-street | 206| 262| 253| 343| 293| 269| 272| 327| 364| 259| 249| 545| 3642| 303 | - | +-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+-------+ - | 6576| 9757|12208|11686|11408|10466|11068|11351|12543|11342| 9757| 7697|125859| 10488 | - - -TABLE SHOWING THE TOTAL NUMBER OF EACH DESCRIPTION OF VEHICLE PASSING -THROUGH CERTAIN STREETS WITHIN THE CITY OF LONDON, BETWEEN THE HOURS OF -8 A.M. AND 8 P.M. (12 HOURS.) - - ---------+----------------------+--------------------+------+------------------+------- - | | Total Number | | | - | | of Vehicles | | Average Number | - | | drawn by | | per Hour. | - | +-----+-----+--------+ Total+------------------+ - Date. | Situation. |1 Horse and | of |1 Horse and |Average - | | Equestrians. | the | Equestrians. |of the - | | |2 Horses. |whole.| |2 Horses. |whole. - | | | |3 Horses| | | |3 Horses| - | | | |or more.| | | |or more.| - ---------+----------------------------+-----+--------+------+----+----+--------+------- - 8th July,| | | | | | | | | - 1850. |Temple Bar Gate | 5035| 2498| 208 | 7741| 419| 206| 17 | 645 - 9th „ |Holborn Hill, | | | | | | | | - | by St. Andrew’s | | | | | | | | - | Church | 4974| 1797| 135 | 6906| 414| 149| 11 | 575 - 10th „ |Ludgate Hill, | | | | | | | | - | by Pilgrim-street | 4259| 2483| 87 | 6829| 354| 207| 7 | 569 - 11th „ |Newgate-street, | | | | | | | | - | by Old Bailey | 4484| 1795| 96 | 6375| 373| 149| 8 | 531 - 12th „ |Aldersgate-street, | | | | | | | | - | by Fann-street | 1990| 479| 121 | 2590| 165| 40| 10 | 215 - 13th „ |Cheapside, | | | | | | | | - | by Foster-lane | 7107| 3794| 152 | 11053| 592| 316| 12 | 921 - 15th „ |Poultry, | | | | | | | | - | by Mansion House | 6283| 3869| 122 | 10274| 523| 332| 10 | 856 - 16th „ |Finsbury Pavement, | | | | | | | | - | by South-place | 2904| 1458| 98 | 4460| 242| 121| 8 | 371 - 17th „ |Cornhill, | | | | | | | | - | by Royal Exchange | 2761| 2074| 81 | 4916| 230| 172| 7 | 409 - 18th „ |Threadneedle-street | 1536| 587| 27 | 2150| 128| 49| 2 | 179 - 19th „ |Gracechurch-st., | | | | | | | | - | by St. Peter’s-alley| 3505| 1223| 159 | 4887| 292| 102| 13 | 407 - 20th „ |Lombard-street, | | | | | | | | - | by Birchin-lane | 2019| 195| 14 | 2228| 168| 16| 1 | 185 - 22nd „ |Bishopsgate-st., | | | | | | | | - | by Great St. Helen’s| 3270| 1477| 95 | 4842| 272| 123| 8 | 403 - 23rd „ |London Bridge | 9351| 3389| 359 | 13099| 779| 282| 30 | 1091 - 24th „ |Bishopsgate-st., out, | | | | | | | | - | by City Boundy | 2769| 1273| 68 | 4110| 30| 106| 5 | 342 - 25th „ |Aldgate High-street, | | | | | | | | - | by City Boundy | 3222| 1378| 154 | 4754| 268| 114| 12 | 396 - 26th „ |Leadenhall-street, | | | | | | | | - | East India House | 3970| 1841| 119 | 5930| 330| 153| 10 | 494 - 27th „ |Eastcheap, | | | | | | | | - | by Philpot-lane | 3481| 464| 157 | 4102| 290| 38| 13 | 341 - 29th „ |Tower-street, | | | | | | | | - | by Mark-lane | 2416| 369| 105 | 2890| 201| 30| 8 | 240 - 30th „ |Lower Thames-st., | | | | | | | | - | by Botolph-lane | 1187| 152| 41 | 1380| 98| 12| 3 | 115 - 31st „ |Blackfriars Bridge | 4132| 935| 195 | 5262| 344| 78| 16 | 438 - 1st Aug.|Upper Thames-st., | | | | | | | | - | rear of Queen-st. | 1756| 428| 147 | 2331| 146| 35| 12 | 194 - 2nd „ |Smithfield Bars | 2843| 193| 72 | 3108| 237| 16| 6 | 259 - 3rd „ |Fenchurch-street | 3050| 518| 74 | 3642| 254| 43| 6 | 303 - | +-----------+--------+------+----+-------------+------- - | |88304|34669| 2886 |125859|7358|2889| 240 |10488 - -The commodities whose residuum goes to swell the annual supply of -_rubbish_, are generally of an earthy nature. Such commodities as -are made of _fibrous_ or _textile_ materials, go, when “used up,” -chiefly to form manure if of an animal nature, and to be converted -into paper if of a vegetable origin. The refuse materials of our -woollen clothes, our old coats and trousers, are either torn to pieces -and re-manufactured into shoddy, or become the invigorators of our -hop and other plants; whereas those of our linen or cotton garments, -our old shirts and petticoats, form the materials of our books and -letters; while our old ropes, &c., are converted into either brown -paper or oakum. Those commodities, on the other hand, which are made -of _leathern_ materials, become, when worn out, the ingredients of the -prussiate of potash and other nitrogenised products manufactured by our -chemists. Our old _wooden_ commodities, again, are used principally to -kindle our fires; while the refuse of our fires themselves, whether the -soot which is deposited in the chimney above, or the ashes which fall -below, are employed mainly to increase the fertility of our land. Our -worn-out _metal_ commodities, on the other hand, are newly melted, and -go to form fresh commodities when the metals are of the scarcer kind, -as gold, silver, copper, brass, lead, and even iron; and when of the -more common kind, as is the case with old tin, and occasionally iron -vessels, they either become the ingredients in some of our chemical -manufactures, or else when formed of tin are cut up into smaller and -inferior commodities. Even the detritus of our _streets_ is used as -the soil of our market gardens. All this we have already seen, and -we have now to deal more particularly with the refuse of the -sole remaining materials, viz., those of an _earthy_ kind, and out -of which are made our bricks, our earthenware and porcelain, as well -as our glass, plaster, and stone commodities. What becomes of all -these materials when the articles made of them are no longer fit for -use? The old glass is, like the old metal, re-melted and made into -new commodities; some broken bottles are used for the tops of walls -as a protection against trespassers; and the old bricks, when sound, -are employed again for inferior brick-work; but what becomes of the -rest of the earthen materials--the unsound bricks or “bats,” the old -plaster and mortar, the refuse slates and tiles and chimney-pots, the -broken pans, and dishes, and other crocks--in a word, the potsherds -and pansherds[34], as the rubbish-carters call them--what is done with -these? - -But rubbish, as we have seen, consists not only of refuse earthen -commodities, but of refuse earth itself: such as the soil removed -during excavations for the foundations of houses, for the cuttings of -railways, the levelling of roads, the formation of parks, the laying -down of pipes or drains, and the sinking of wells. For each and all -of these operations there is necessarily a certain quantity of soil -removed, and the question that naturally occurs to the mind is, what is -done with it? - -There is, moreover, a third kind of rubbish, which, though having an -animal origin, consists chiefly of earthy matter, and that is the -shells of oysters, and other shell-fish. Whence go they, since these -shells are of a comparatively indestructible nature, and thousands of -such fish are consumed annually in the metropolis? What, the inquirer -asks, becomes of the refuse bony coverings of such fish? - -Let us first, however, endeavour to estimate what quantity of each of -these three kinds of rubbish is annually produced in London, beginning -with the refuse earthen commodities. - -There is no published account of the quantity of _crockeryware_ -annually manufactured in this country. Mr. McCulloch tells us, “It -is estimated, that the _value_ of the various sorts of earthenware -produced at the potteries may amount to about 1,700,000_l._ or -1,800,000_l._ a year; and that the earthenware produced at Worcester, -Derby, and other parts of the country, may amount to about 850,000_l._ -or more, making the whole value of the manufacture 2,550,000_l._ or -2,650,000_l._ a year.” What proportion of this quantity may fall to -the share of the metropolis, and what proportion of the whole may be -annually destroyed, I know of no means of judging. We must therefore go -some other way to work in order to arrive at the required information. -Now, it has been before shown, that the quantity of “dust,” or dry -refuse from houses, annually collected, amounts to 900,000 tons or -chaldrons yearly; and I find, on inquiry at the principal “yards,” that -the average quantity of Potsherds and broken crockery is at the rate -of about half a bushel to every load of dust, or say 1 per cent. out of -the entire quantity collected. At other yards, I find the proportion -of sherds to be about the same, so that we may fairly assume that the -gross quantity of broken earthenware produced in London is in round -numbers 9000 loads or tons per annum. The sherds run about 250 pieces -to the bushel, and assuming every five of such pieces to be the remains -of an entire article, there would be in each bushel the fragments of -fifty earthenware vessels; and thus the total quantity of crockeryware -destroyed yearly in the metropolis will amount to 18,000,000 vessels. - -As to the quantity of _refuse bricks_, the number annually produced, -which is between 1,500,000,000 and 2,000,000,000, will give us no -knowledge of the quantity yearly converted into rubbish. In order to -arrive at this, we must ascertain the number of houses pulled down -in the course of the twelvemonth; and I find, by the Returns of the -Registrar-General, that the buildings removed between 1841 and 1851 -have been as follows:-- - - -DECREASE IN THE NUMBER OF HOUSES THROUGHOUT LONDON BETWEEN 1841 AND -1851. - - ----------------------------+-----------+--------- - | Total | Annual - |Decrease in| Average - | 10 Years. |Decrease. - ----------------------------+-----------+--------- - St. Martin’s | 116 | 11·6 - St. James’s, Westminster | 130 | 13·0 - St. Giles’s | 181 | 18·1 - Strand | 389 | 38·9 - Holborn | 86 | 8·6 - East London | 11 | 1·1 - West London | 265 | 26·5 - London, City of | 592 | 59·2 - Whitechapel | 2 | ·2 - St. Saviour’s, Southwark | 46 | 4·6 - St. Olave’s | 158 | 15·8 - ----------------------------+-----------+--------- - Total | 1976 | 197·6 - ----------------------------+-----------+--------- - -Thus, then, we perceive that there have been, upon an average, very -nearly 200 houses annually pulled down in London within the last ten -years, and I find, on inquiry among those who are likely to be the -best-informed on such matters, that each house so pulled down will -yield from 40 to 50 loads of rubbish; so that, altogether, the quantity -of refuse bricks, slates, tiles, chimney-pots, &c., annually produced -in London must be no less than 8000 loads. - -But the above estimate refers only to those houses which have been -pulled down and never rebuilt; so that, in order to arrive at the gross -quantity of this kind of rubbish yearly produced in the metropolis, -we must add to the preceding amount the quantity accruing from such -houses as are pulled down and built up again, or newly fronted and -repaired, which are by far the greater number. These, I find, may be -estimated at between 5 and 10 per cent. of the gross number of houses -in the metropolis. In some quarters (the older parts of London, for -instance,) the proportion is much higher, while in the suburbs, or -newer districts, it is scarcely half per cent. Each of the houses so -new-fronted or repaired may be said to yield, on an average, 10 loads -of rubbish, and, at this rate, the yearly quantity of refuse bricks, -mortar, &c., proceeding from such a source, will be 150,000 loads per -annum; so that the total amount of rubbish produced in London by the -demolition and reparation of houses would appear to be about 160,000 -loads yearly. - -The quantity of refuse _oyster shells_ may easily be found by the -number of oysters annually sold in Billingsgate-market. These, from -the returns which I obtained from the market salesmen, and printed -at p. 63 of the first volume of this work, appear to be, in round -numbers, 500,000,000; and, calculating that one-third of this quantity -is sent into the country, the total number of shells remaining in the -metropolis may be estimated at about 650,000,000. Reckoning, then, that -500 shells go to the bushel (the actual number was found experimentally -to be between 525 and 550), and consequently that 20,000 are contained -in every load, we may conclude that the gross quantity of refuse oyster -shells annually produced in London average somewhere about 30,000 -loads. That this is an approximation to the true quantity there can be -little doubt, for, on inquiry at one of the largest dust-yards, I was -informed by the hill-man that the quantity of oyster-shells collected -with the refuse dust from houses in the vicinity of Shoreditch, -Whitechapel, and other localities at the east-end of the metropolis, -averages 6 bushels to the load of dust; about the west-end, however, -half a bushel or a bushel to each load is the average ratio; while -from the City there is none, the house “dust” there being free from -oyster-shells. In taking one district, however, with another, I am -assured that the average may be safely computed at 2 bushels of -oyster-shells to every 3 loads of dust; hence, as the gross amount of -house-dust is equal to 900,000 tons or loads per annum, the quantity of -refuse oyster-shells collected yearly by the dustmen may be taken at -15,000 loads. But, besides these, there is the quantity got rid of by -the costermongers, which seldom or never appear in the dust-bins. The -costers sell about 124,000,000 oysters per annum, and thus the extra -quantity of shells resulting from these means would be about 12,400 -loads; so that the gross quantity of refuse oyster-shells actually -produced in London may be said to average between 25,000 and 30,000 -loads per annum. - -There still remains the quantity of _refuse earth_ to be calculated; -this may be estimated as follows:-- - -1. _Foundations of Houses._--Each house that is built requires the -ground to be excavated from two to three yards deep, the average area -of each being about nine yards square. This gives between 160 and 200 -cubic yards of earth removed from the foundation of each house. A cubic -yard of earth is a load, so that there are between 160 and 200 loads of -earth displaced in the building of every new house. - -The following statement shows-- - - -THE NUMBER OF HOUSES BUILT THROUGHOUT LONDON BETWEEN 1841 AND 1851. - - --------------------+---------------+----------- - | Total No. | Average - | of Houses | No. of - | built in 10 | Houses - | Years. | built per - | | Year. - --------------------+---------------+----------- - West Districts | 9,624 | 962·4 - North Districts | 13,778 | 1377·8 - Central Districts | 349 | 34·9 - East Districts | 8,343 | 834·3 - South Districts | 14,807 | 1480·7 - --------------------+---------------+----------- - Total | 46,901 | 4690·1 - --------------------+---------------+----------- - -Hence, estimating the number of new houses built yearly in the -metropolis at 4500, the total quantity of earth removed for the -foundations of the buildings throughout London would be 800,000 loads -per annum. - -2. _The Cuttings of Railways._--The railways formed within the area of -the metropolis during the last ten years have been--the Great Northern; -the Camden Town, and Bow; the West India Docks and Bow; and the North -Kent Lines. The extension of the Southampton Railway from Vauxhall to -Waterloo-bridge, as well as the Richmond Line, has also been formed -within the same period, but for these no cuttings have been made. - -The Railway Cuttings made within the area of the Metropolis Proper -during the last ten years have been to the following extent:-- - - ------------------------+--------+-----------------+--------+--------- - | Length |Width of Cutting.| Depth |Quantity - RAILWAYS. | of +---------+-------+ of |of earth - |Cutting.| At | At |Cutting.|Removed. - | | top. | bottom.| | - ------------------------+--------+--------+--------+--------+--------- - | Miles. | Yards. | Yards. | Yards. | Loads. - Great Northern | 1-1/2 | 12 | 10 | 10 | 290,400 - Camden Town and Bow | 1-1/2 | 12 | 10 | 10 | 290,400 - West India Docks and Bow| 2 | 15 | 10 | 12 | 528,000 - North Kent | 2 | 15 | 10 | 12 | 528,000 - ------------------------+--------+--------+--------+--------+--------- - -Hence, the gross quantity of earth removed from railway cuttings within -the last ten years has been 1,636,800 loads, or say, in round numbers, -160,000 loads per annum. - -3. _The Cutting of Roads and Streets._--According to a Return presented -to Parliament, there were 200 miles of new streets formed within the -metropolitan police district between the years 1839-49; but in the -formation of these no earth has been taken away; on the contrary a -considerable quantity has been required for their construction. In the -case of the lowering of Holborn-hill, that which was removed from the -top was used to fill up the hollow. - -4. _The Formation of Parks._--The only park that has been constructed -during the last ten years in the metropolis is Victoria Park, at the -east end of the town; but I am informed that, in the course of the -works there, no earth was carted away, the soil which was removed from -one part being used for the levelling of another. - -5. _Pipe and Sewer Works._--The earth displaced in the course of these -operations is usually put back into the ground whence it was taken, -excepting in the formation of some new sewer, and then a certain -proportion has to be carted away. Upon inquiry among those who are -likely to be best informed, I am assured that 1000 loads may be taken -as the quantity carted away in the course of the last year. - -6. _Well-sinking._--In this there has been but little done. Those who -are best informed assure me that within the last ten years no such -works of any magnitude have been executed. - -The account as to the quantity of rubbish removed in London, then, -stands thus:-- - - Loads - _Refuse Earthen Materials._ per Annum. - Potsherds and Pansherds 9,000 - Old bricks, tiles, slates, mortar, &c. 160,000 - Oyster-shells 25,000 - - _Refuse Earth._ - Foundations of houses 800,000 - Railway cuttings 160,000 - Pipe and sewer laying 1,000 - --------- - 1,155,000 - -Thus, then, we perceive that the gross quantity of rubbish that has to -be annually removed throughout the metropolis is upwards of 1,000,000 -loads per annum. - -Now what is done with the vast amount of refuse matter? Whither is it -carried? How is it disposed of? - -_The rubbish from the house building or removing_ is of no value to the -master carter, and is shot gratuitously wherever there is the privilege -of shooting it; this privilege, however, is very often usurped. Great -quantities used to be shot in what were, until these last eight years, -Bishop Bonner’s Fields, but now Victoria Park. At the present time this -sort of rubbish is often slily deposited in localities generally known -as “the ruins,” being places from which houses, and indeed streets, -have been removed, and the sites left bare and vacant. - -But the main localities for the deposition of this kind of refuse are -in the fields round about the metropolis. Each particular district -appears to have its own special “shoot,” as it is called, for rubbish, -of which the following are the principal. - - -_Rubbish shoots._ - - The rubbish of Kensington and Chelsea is shot in the Pottery Grounds - and Kensington-fields. - - The rubbish of St. George’s Hanover-square, Marylebone, and - Paddington, is shot in the fields about Notting-hill and Kilburn. - - The rubbish of Westminster, Strand, Holborn, St. Martin’s, St. - Giles’s, St. James’s, Westminster, West London, and Southwark, is shot - in Cubitt’s fields at Millbank and Westminster improvements. - - The rubbish of Hampstead is shot in the fields at back of - Haverstock-hill. - - The rubbish of Saint Pancras is shot in the Copenhagen-fields. - - The rubbish of Islington, Clerkenwell, and St. Luke’s, is shot in the - Eagle Wharf-road and Shepherdess-fields. - - The rubbish of East London and City is shot in the Haggerstone-fields. - - The rubbish of Whitechapel, St. George’s in the East, and Stepney, is - shot in Stepney fields. - - The rubbish of Hackney, Bethnal-green, and Shoreditch, is shot in the - Bonkers-pond, Hackney-road. - - The rubbish of Poplar is shot in the fields at back of New Town, - Poplar. - - The rubbish of Bermondsey is shot in the Bermondsey fields. - - The rubbish of Newington, Camberwell, and Lambeth, is shot in - Walworth-common and Kennington-fields. - - The rubbish of Wandsworth is shot in Potters-hole, Wandsworth-common. - - The rubbish of Greenwich and Lewisham is shot in Russia-common, near - Lewisham. - - The rubbish of Rotherhithe is used for ballast. - -The quantity of rubbish annually shot in each of the above-mentioned -localities appears to range from 5000 up to as high as 30,000 and -40,000 loads. - -Of the earth removed in forming the foundation of new houses, between -one-fourth and one-sixth of the whole is used to make the gardens at -the back, and the bed of the roads in front of them, while the entire -quantity of the soil displaced in the execution of the “cuttings” -of railways is carted away in the trucks of the company to form -embankments in other places. Hence there would appear to be about from -160,000 to 200,000 loads of refuse bricks, potsherds, pansherds, and -oyster-shells, and about 600,000 loads of refuse earth deposited every -year in the fields or “shoots” in the vicinity of the metropolis. - -The refuse earth displaced in forming the foundations of houses is -generally carted away by the builders’ men, so that it is principally -the refuse bricks, &c., that the rubbish-carters are engaged in -removing; these they usually carry to the shoots already indicated, or -to such other localities where the hard core may be needed for forming -the foundation of roads, or the rubbish be required for certain other -purposes. - -The principal _use to which the “rubbish” is put_ is for levelling, -when the hollow part of any newly-made road has to be filled up, or -garden or lawn ground has to be levelled for a new mansion. Rubbish, at -one time, was in demand for the ballasting of small coasting vessels. -For such ballasting 2_d._ a ton has to be paid to the corporation -of the Trinity House. This rubbish has been used, but sometimes -surreptitiously, for ballast, unmixed with other things. It is, -however, light and inferior ballast, and occupies more space than the -gravel ballast from the bed of the Thames. - -Suppose that a collier requires ballast to the extent of 60 tons; if -house rubbish be used it will occupy the hold to a greater height -by about 10 inches than would the ballast derived from the bed of -the Thames. The Thames ballast is supplied at 1_s._ a ton; the -rubbish-ballast, however, was only 3_d._ to 6_d._ a ton, but now it -is seldom used unless to mix with manure, which might be considered -too wet and soft, and likely to ferment on the voyage to a degree -unpleasant even to the mariners used to such freights. The rubbish, I -am told, checks the fermentation, and gives consistency to the manure. - -I am assured by a tradesman, who ships a considerable quantity of -stable manure collected from the different mews of the metropolis, -that comparatively little rubbish is now used for ballast (unless in -the way I have stated); even for mixing, but a few tons a week are -required up and down the river, and perhaps a small quantity from the -wharfs on the several canals. Nothing was ever paid for the use of -this rubbish as ballast, the carters being well satisfied to have the -privilege of shooting it. Two of the principal shoots by the river side -were at Bell-wharf, Shadwell, and off Wapping-street. The rubbish of -Rotherhithe, it will be seen, is mainly “shot” as ballast. - -The “_hard-core_” is readily got rid of; sometimes it is shot -gratuitously (or merely with a small gratuity for beer to the men); -but if it have to be carted three or four miles, it is from 2_s._ -6_d._ to 3_s._ a load. This is used for the foundations of houses, -the groundwork of roads, and other purposes where a hard substratum -is required. The hard-core on a new road is usually about nine inches -deep. There are on an average 20 miles of streets, 15 yards wide, -formed annually in London. Hence there would be upwards of 100,000 -loads of hard-core required for this purpose alone. Where the soil is -of a gravelly nature, but little hard rubbish is needed. Oyster-shells -_did_ form a much greater portion than they do now of the hard -substratum of roads. Eight or nine years ago the costermongers could -sell their oyster-shells for 6_d._ a bushel. Now they cannot, or do -not, sell them at all; and the law not only forbids their deposit in -any place whatever, but forbids their being scattered in the streets, -under a penalty of 5_l._ But as the same law provides no place where -these shells may be deposited, the costermongers are in what one of -them described to me as “a quandary.” One man, who with his wife kept -two stalls in Tottenham Court-road, one for fish (fresh and dried) and -for shell-fish, and the other for fruit and vegetables, told me that -he gave “one of those poor long-legged fellows who were neither men nor -boys, and who were always starving and hanging about for a two-penny -job, two-pence to carry away a hamper-full of shells and get rid of -them as he best could. O, where he put them, sir,” said the man, “I -don’t know, I wouldn’t know; and I shouldn’t have mentioned it to you, -only I saw you last winter and know you’re inquiring for an honest -purpose.” - -Another costermonger who has a large barrow of oysters and mussels, -and sometimes of “wet fish” near King’s-cross, and at the junction of -Leather-lane with Back-hill, Hatton-garden, was more communicative: “If -you’ll walk on with me, sir,” he said, “_I’ll_ show you where they’re -shot. You may mention my name if you like, sir; I don’t care a d---- -for the crushers; not a blessed d----.” He accordingly conducted me -to a place which seemed adapted for the special purpose. At the foot -of Saffron-hill and the adjacent streets runs the Fleet-ditch, now -a branch of the common sewers; not covered over as in other parts, -but open, noisome, and, as the dark water flows on, throwing up a -sickening stench. The ditch is indifferently fenced, so that any one -with a little precaution may throw what he pleases into it. “There, -sir,” said my companion, “there’s the place where more oyster-shells -is thrown than anywhere in London. They’re thrown in in the dark.” -Assuredly the great share of blame is not to those who avail themselves -of such places for illegal purposes, but to those who leave such -filthy receptacles available. The scattered oyster-shells along all -the approaches, on both sides, to this part of the open Fleet-ditch, -evince the use that is made of it in violation of the law. Many of the -costers, however, keep the shells by them till they amount to several -bushels, and then give the rubbish-carters a few pence to dispose of -them for them. - -Some of the costermongers, again, obtain leave to deposit their -oyster-shells in the dustmen’s yards, where quantities may be seen -whitening the dingy dust-heaps, and a large quantity are collected with -the house-dust and ashes, together with the broken crockery from the -dust-bins of the several houses. The oyster-shells are carted away with -the pansherds, &c., for the purposes I have mentioned. - - * * * * * - -I now come to deal with the rubbish-carters, that is to say, with the -labourers engaged in the removal of the “hard” species of refuse; -of which we have seen there are between 160,000 and 200,000 loads -annually carted away; the refuse earth, or “soft dirt,” being generally -removed by the builders’ men, and the refuse, crockeryware, &c., by the -dustmen, when collecting the dust from the “bins” of the several houses. - -The master _Rubbish-Carters_ are those who keep carts and horses to -be hired for carting away the old materials when houses or walls are -pulled down. They are also occasionally engaged in carrying away the -soil or rubbish thrown up from the foundations of buildings; the -excavations of docks, canals, and sewers; the digging of artesian -wells, &c. This seems to comprise what in this carrying or removing -trade is accounted “rubbish.” - -Perhaps not one of these tradesmen is solely a rubbish-carter, for they -are likewise the carters of new materials for the use of builders, -such as lime, bricks, stone, gravel, slates, timber, iron-work, -chimney-pieces, &c. Some of them are public carmen; licensed carmen -if they work, or ply, in the City; but beyond the City boundaries no -licence is necessary. This complication perplexes the inquiry, but I -purpose to confine it, as much as possible, to the rubbish-carters -proper, having defined what may be understood by “rubbish.” These -carters are also employed in digging, pick-axing, &c., at the -buildings, the rubbish of which they are engaged to remove. - -Among the conveyors of rubbish are no distinctions as to the kind. -Any of them will one week cart old bricks from a house which has been -pulled down, and the next week be busy in removing the soil excavated -where the foundations and cellars of a new mansion have been dug. - -From inquiries made in each of the different districts of the -metropolis, there appear to be from 140 to 150 tradesmen who, with the -carting of bricks, lime, and other building commodities, add also that -of rubbish-carting. These “masters” among them find employment for 840 -labouring men, some of whom I find to have been in the service of the -same employer upwards of 20 years. - -The Post-Office Directory, under the head of rubbish-carters, gives -the names of only 35 of the principal masters, of whom several are -marked as scavagers, dust-contractors, nightmen, and road-contractors. -The occupation abstract of the census, on the other hand, totally -ignores the existence of any such class of workmen, masters as well -as operatives. I find, however, by actual visitation and inquiry in -each of the metropolitan districts, and thus learning the names of the -several masters as well as the number of men in their employment, that -there may be said to be, in round numbers, 150 master rubbish-carters, -employing among them 840 operatives throughout London. - -A large proportion of this number of labouring men, however, are -casual hands, who have been taken on when the trade was busy during -the summer (which is the “brisk season” of rubbish-cartage), and who -are discharged in the slack time; during which period they obtain jobs -at dust-carting or scavaging, or some such out-door employment. Among -the employers there are scarcely any who are purely rubbish-carters, -the large majority consisting of dust and road-contractors, carmen, -dairymen, and persons who have two or three horses and carts at their -disposal. When a master builder or bricklayer obtains a contract, he -hires horses and carts to take away any rubbish which may previously -have been deposited. The contract of the King’s Cross Terminus of -the Great Northern Railway, for instance, has been undertaken by Mr. -W. Jay, the builder; and, not having sufficient conveyances to cart -the rubbish away, he has hired horses and carts of others to assist -in the removal of it. The same mode is adopted in other parts of the -metropolis, where any improvements are going on. The owners of horses -and carts let them out to hire at from 7_s._ for one horse, to 14_s._ -for two per day. If, however, the job be unusually large, the master -rubbish-carters often take it by contract themselves. - -Although the _operative rubbish-carters_ may be classed among unskilled -labourers, they are, perhaps, less miscellaneous, as a body, than -other classes of open-air workers. Before they can obtain work of the -best description it is necessary that they should have some knowledge -of the management of a horse in the drawing of a loaded carriage, or -of the way in which the animal should be groomed and tended in the -stable. I was told by an experienced carman, that he, or any one with -far less than his experience, could in a moment detect, merely by the -mode in which a man would put the harness on a horse and yoke him to -the cart, whether he was likely to prove a master of his craft in that -line or not. My informant had noticed, more especially many years ago, -when labour was not so abundantly obtainable as it was last year, -that men out of work would offer him their services as carmen even if -they had never handled a whip in their lives, as if little more were -wanted than to walk by the horse’s side. An experienced carter knows -how to ease and direct the animal when heavily burdened, or when the -road is rugged; and I am assured by the same informant, that he had -known one of his horses more fatigued after traversing a dozen miles -with a “yokel” (as he called him), or an incompetent man, than the -animal had been after a fifteen miles’ journey with the same load -under the care of a careful and judicious driver. This knowledge of -the management of a horse is most essential when men are employed to -work “single-handed,” or have confided to them singly a horse and cart; -when they work in gangs it is not insisted upon, except as regards the -“carman,” or the man having charge of the horse or the team. - -The master rubbish-carters generally are more particular than they used -to be as to the men to whom they commit the care of their horses. It -may be easy enough to learn to drive a horse and cart, but a casual -labourer will now hardly get employment in rubbish-carting of a “good -sort” unless he has attained that preliminary knowledge. The foreman of -one of the principal contractors said to me, “It would never do to let -a man learn his business by practising on our horses.” I mention this -to show, that although rubbish-carting is to be classed among unskilled -labours, _some_ training is necessary. - -[Illustration: THE RUBBISH CARTER. - -[_From a Daguerreotype by_ BEARD.]] - -I am informed that one-third of the working rubbish-carters have been -rubbish-carters from their youth, or cart, car, or waggon-drivers, for -they all seem to have known changes; or they have been used to the care -of horses in the capacity of ostlers, stable-men, helpers, coaching-inn -porters, coachmen, grooms, and horse-breakers. Of the remainder, -one-half, I am informed, have “had a turn” at such avocations as -scavagery, bricklayers’ labouring, dock work, railway excavating, night -work, and the many toils to which such men resort in their struggles -to obtain bread, whatever may have been their original occupation, -which is rarely that of an artizan. The other, and what may be called -the greater half of the remaining number, is composed of agricultural -labourers who were rubbish-carters in the country, and of the many men -who have had the care of horses and vehicles in the provinces, and who -have sought the metropolis, depending upon their thews and sinews for a -livelihood, as porters, or carmen, or labourers in almost any capacity. -The most of these men at the plough, the harrow, the manure-cart, the -hay and corn harvests, have been practised carters and horse drivers -before they sought the expected gold in the streets of London. Full a -third of the whole body of rubbish-carters are Irishmen, who in Ireland -were small farmers, or cottiers, or agricultural labourers, or belonged -to some of the classes I have described. - -The mechanics among rubbish-carters I heard estimated, by men with -equal means of information, as one in twenty and one in fifteen. Among -these _quondam_ mechanics were more farriers, cart and wheel wrights, -than of other classes. - -It seems to be regarded as an indispensable thing that working -rubbish-carters should have one quality--bodily strength. I am told -that one employer, who died a few weeks ago, used to say to any -applicant for work, “It’s no use asking for it, if you wish to keep it, -unless you can lift a horse up when he’s down.” - -As I have shown of the scavagers, &c., the employers in rubbish-carting -may be classed as “honourable” and “scurfs.” The men do not use the -word “honourable,” nor any equivalent term, but speak of their masters, -though with no great distinctiveness, as being either “good,” or -“scurfs.” As in other branches of unskilled labour where there are no -trade societies or general trade regulations among the operatives, -there are few distinctive appellations. - -From the facts I have collected in connection with this trade, it would -appear that there are 180 master rubbish-carters in the metropolis, -about 140 of whom pay 18_s._ or more per week as wages, while the -remaining 40 pay less than that amount. The latter constitute what the -men term the scurf portion of the trade; so that the honourable masters -among the rubbish-carters may be said to comprise seven-ninths of the -whole. - -I will first treat of the circumstances, characteristics, and wages of -the men employed in the honourable trade. - -And first, as regards the _division of labour_ among the operative -rubbish-carters, the work is as simple as possible. - -There are-- - -1. _The Rubbish-Carters_ proper, or “carmen,” who are engaged -principally in conveying the refuse brick or earth to the several -shoots. - -2. _The Rubbish-Shovellers_, or “gangers,” who are engaged principally -in filling the cart with the rubbish to be removed. Generally speaking, -the two offices are performed by the same individual, who is both -carter and shoveller, and it is only in large works that the gangers -are employed. - -Master builders and others who require the aid of rubbish-carters for -the removal of earth or any other kind of rubbish from ground about to -be built upon, or from old buildings about to be repaired or pulled -down, either hire horses, carts, and carmen, by the day, of the master -rubbish-carters, or pay a certain price per load for the removal of the -rubbish. If the job be likely to last some length of time, the builders -pay the masters so much per load for carting away the rubbish; but -if the job be only for a short period, the horses, carts, and carmen -are hired of the masters for the time. The price paid to the master -rubbish-carter ranges from 2_s._ 6_d._ to 3_s._ 6_d._ per load for the -removal of rubbish and bringing back such bricks, lime, or sand as may -be required for the building. The master rubbish-carter, in all cases, -pays the men engaged in the removal of the rubbish. - -The operative rubbish-carters (except in a very few instances) never -work in gangs, either in the construction of new buildings or in -old buildings about to be pulled down or repaired. In digging the -foundations of new houses, the master builders, or speculators, -building upon their own ground employ their own excavators, and engage -rubbish-carters to remove the refuse earth, the latter being merely -occupied in carting it away. - -The principle of simple co-operation or gang-work occasionally -prevails; and, when this is the case, the gang is employed in -shovelling and picking, while the carman, as the shovellers throw out -the rubbish, fills or shovels the rubbish into the cart. - -Each rubbish-carter will, on an average, convey away from two to five -loads a day, according to the distance he has to take it. Calculating -850 men to remove four loads per diem for five months in a year, the -gross quantity of rubbish annually removed would be very nearly 326,000 -loads. - -In the regular trade _the hours of daily labour_ are twelve, or from -six to six; but the men are allowed half an hour for breakfast, an -hour for dinner, and half an hour for tea, and almost invariably leave -at half-past five, so postponing the “tea” half-hour until after the -termination of their work. In winter the hours are generally “between -the lights,” but on very short, dark, or foggy days, lanterns are used. -The men employed by one firm “often made up,” I was told by one of -them, “for lost time, by shovelling by moonlight.” The carman, however, -has to get to his stable in the summer at four o’clock in the morning, -and to tend his horse after he has done work at night; so that the -usual hours of labour with him are fifteen and sixteen per day, as well -as Sunday-work. - - -TABLE SHOWING THE NUMBER OF OPERATIVE RUBBISH-CARTERS EMPLOYED -THROUGHOUT LONDON, THE WAGES RECEIVED BY THEM, THE NUMBER OF WEEKS THEY -ARE EMPLOYED, AS WELL AS THE QUANTITY OF RUBBISH REMOVED BY THEM IN THE -COURSE OF THE YEAR. - - ---------------------------------+------------------------------------------------- - |No. of Operative - |Rubbish-Carting. - | - | |No. of Shovellers - | |working in Gangs. - | | - | | |Quantity of Rubbish - | | |carted Daily. - | | | - | | | |Quantity of Rubbish - | | | |carted Annually. - | | | | - | | | | |No. of days in the - | | | | |week each Operative - Master Rubbish | | | | |is employed at - Carters. | | | | |Rubbish-Carting. - | | | | | - | | | | | |No. of weeks during - | | | | | |the year each Operative - | | | | | |is engaged in - | | | | | |Removing Rubbish. - | | | | | | - | | | | | | |Weekly Wages of - | | | | | | |Rubbish-Carters. - | | | | | | | - | | | | | | | |Weekly Wages of - | | | | | | | |the Operatives - | | | | | | | |working in Gangs - | | | | | | | |at Rubbish-Carting. - ---------------------------------+---+--+----+------+--+---+----+------------------- - | | |lds.|loads.| | |_s._|_s._ - { Mr. J. Bird | 5 |..| 15 | 2340 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - { -- Hough | 3 |..| 9 | 1404 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - _Kensington._ { -- Dubbins | 3 |..| 9 | 1404 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - { -- Taylor | 3 |..| 12 | 1872 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - { -- Gale | 3 |..| 12 | 1872 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - { -- G. Bird |10 |..| 20 | 3120 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Nicholls |10 |..| 20 | 3120 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - { -- Emmerson | 5 |..| 15 | 2340 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - _Chelsea._ { -- Freeman | 5 |..| 15 | 2340 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - { -- Pattison | 2 |..| 6 | 936 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - { -- Porter | 6 |..| 18 | 2808 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Rawlins | 4 |..| 16 | 1248 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - _St. George’s, { -- Wells | 2 |..| 8 | 624 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - Hanover-sq._ { -- Watkins | 5 |..| 15 | 1170 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - { -- Liddiard | 5 |..| 15 | 1170 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Farmer | 4 |..| 16 | 1920 | 6| 20| 18 | .. - _Westminster._ { -- Bugbee | 6 | 4| 30 | 2340 | 6| 13| 18 | 18 - { -- Reddin | 6 | 4| 30 | 2340 | 6| 13| 18 | 18 - { -- Francis | 5 |..| 20 | 3120 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Chadwick | 3 |..| 15 | 2340 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - _Westminster { -- Francis | 5 |..| 20 | 3120 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - Improvements._ { -- Farmer | 5 |..| 20 | 3120 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - { -- Duggan | 8 |..| 40 | 6240 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- T. Cooper | 3 | 3| 24 | 1872 | 6| 13| 18 | 20 - _St. Martin’s._ { -- Wall | 2 | 2| 16 | 1248 | 6| 13| 18 | 20 - { -- Duggan | 4 |..| 16 | 1248 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - _St. James’s, { -- Nicolls | 5 |..| 20 | 1560 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - Westminster._ { -- Wells | 2 |..| 8 | 624 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - { -- Watkins | 5 |..| 15 | 810 | 6| 9| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Freeman | 3 |..| 12 | 2808 | 6| 39| 18 | .. - { -- Curmock | 4 |..| 16 | 2496 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - _Mary-le-bone._{ -- Nicolls | 8 |..| 24 | 1872 | 3| 26| 18 | .. - { -- Watkins |10 |..| 40 | 4160 | 4| 26| 18 | .. - { -- Perkins | 5 |..| 20 | 3120 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - { -- Culverwell | 5 |..| 20 | 3120 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Rutty | 3 |..| 12 | 360 | 5| 6| 18 | .. - _West London._ { -- Kitchener | 3 |..| 15 | 360 | 6| 4| 18 | .. - { -- Wickham | 3 |..| 12 | 240 | 5| 4| 18 | .. - { -- Porter | 4 |..| 16 | 864 | 6| 9| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Crook | 3 |..| 6 | 468 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - { -- M’Carthy | 6 |..| 30 | 4680 | 6| 26| 20 | .. - _West London { -- Reddin | 5 |..| 25 | 3900 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - Improvements._ { -- Rooke | 6 |..| 30 | 4680 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - { -- Bugbee | 5 |..| 25 | 3900 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - { -- Chadwick | 5 |..| 25 | 3900 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Bateman | 3 |..| 12 | 288 | 6| 4| 18 | .. - _London { -- Tame | 4 |..| 12 | 216 | 6| 3| 18 | .. - City._ { -- Walker | 2 |..| 8 | 144 | 6| 3| 18 | .. - { -- Harmadu | 3 |..| 9 | 216 | 6| 4| 18 | .. - { -- Bindy | 2 |..| 6 | 72 | 3| 4| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - _London City { -- Duggan |10 |..| 50 | 7800 | 6| 26| 16 | .. - Improvements._ { -- Bugbee |20 |..|100 |15600 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - { -- Gould |10 |..| 50 | 7800 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Booth | 5 |..| 20 | 360 | 3| 6| 18 | .. - _Shoreditch._ { -- Styles | 2 |..| 8 | 96 | 3| 4| 18 | .. - { -- Wood | 5 |..| 20 | 780 | 3| 13| 18 | .. - { -- Gould | 5 |..| 20 | 1560 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Calvert | 2 |..| 8 | 240 | 3| 10| 15 | .. - _Bethnal { -- Newman | 2 |..| 6 | 234 | 3| 13| 16 | .. - Green._ { -- Rooke | 4 |..| 16 | 624 | 3| 13| 18 | .. - { -- Tilley | 3 |..| 12 | 936 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Newman | 3 |..| 9 | 216 | 3| 8| 16 | .. - _Whitechapel._ { -- Tomkins | 2 |..| 6 | 234 | 3| 13| 18 | .. - { -- Abbott | 2 |..| 6 | 90 | 3| 5| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Clarke | 6 |..| 18 | 360 | 4| 5| 16 | .. - _St. George’s { -- Calvert | 4 |..| 16 | 192 | 3| 4| 15 | .. - in the East._ { -- Newman | 3 |..| 12 | 216 | 3| 6| 16 | .. - { -- Tomkins | 2 |..| 6 | 108 | 3| 6| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Abbott | 6 |..| 18 | 432 | 3| 8| 18 | .. - _Stepney._ { -- Newman | 4 |..| 16 | 288 | 3| 6| 16 | .. - { -- Potter | 3 |..| 12 | 180 | 3| 5| 16 | .. - { -- Church | 3 |..| 12 | 216 | 3| 6| 15 | .. - - { -- Curmock | 3 |..| 12 | 936 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - _Paddington._ { -- Tame | 6 |..| 18 | 432 | 3| 8| 18 | .. - { -- Humphries | 6 |..| 18 | 702 | 3| 13| 16 | .. - { -- Nicolls | 3 |..| 12 | 268 | 3| 13| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Seal & | | | | | | | | - { Jackson | 2 |..| 6 | 936 | 6| 26| 20 | .. - _Hampstead._ { -- Kirtland | 1 |..| 3 | 468 | 6| 26| 20 | .. - { -- Hingston | 1 |..| 3 | 117 | 3| 13| 20 | .. - { -- Batterbury | 1 |..| 3 | 117 | 3| 13| 20 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Smith | 2 |..| 8 | 384 | 4| 12| 18 | .. - { -- Perkins | 8 |..| 24 | 1872 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - _St. Pancras._ { -- Reddin | 6 |..| 24 | 2304 | 6| 16| 18 | .. - { -- Jay | 6 |..| 24 | 2304 | 6| 16| 18 | .. - { -- M. Rose | 3 |..| 12 | 468 | 3| 13| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Eldred | 4 |..| 20 | 1920 | 6| 16| 16 | .. - _Islington._ { -- Croot | 3 |..| 12 | 936 | 6| 13| 16 | .. - { -- Speller | 2 |..| 8 | 288 | 6| 6| 16 | .. - { -- J. Rose | 5 |..| 20 | 1560 | 6| 13| 16 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Piper | 3 |..| 9 | 702 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - _Hackney._ { -- Rumball | 6 |..| 18 | 2808 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - { -- Booth | 5 |..| 15 | 1170 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Duggan | 3 |..| 12 | 936 | 6| 13| 16 | .. - { -- Freeman | 4 |..| 16 | 624 | 3| 13| 18 | .. - _St. Giles’s._ { -- Bugbee | 2 |..| 8 | 768 | 6| 16| 18 | .. - { -- Wall | 2 |..| 8 | 288 | 6| 6| 19 | .. - { -- Mildwater | 2 |..| 6 | 180 | 6| 5| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Reddin |10 |..| 50 | 3900 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - _St. Giles’s { -- Bugbee |10 |..| 50 | 3900 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - Improvements._ { -- North | 3 |..| 12 | 432 | 6| 6| 18 | .. - { -- Nicolls | 5 |..| 20 | 1560 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Piper | 4 |..| 16 | 384 | 6| 4 | 18 | .. - _Strand._ { -- Reddin | 5 |..| 20 | 480 | 6| 4 | 18 | .. - { -- Ellis | 3 |..| 12 | 180 | 3| 5 | 18 | .. - { -- Cooper | 3 |..| 12 | 108 | 3| 3 | 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Lovell | 2 |..| 8 | 312 | 3| 13| 18 | .. - _Holborn._ { -- M’Carthy | 6 |..| 24 | 1872 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - { -- Wells | 3 |..| 12 | 468 | 3| 13| 18 | .. - { -- Ellis | 3 |..| 12 | 324 | 3| 9| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - _Holborn { -- Reddin |20 |..| 80 | 6240 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - and New { -- Bugbee |10 |..| 40 | 3120 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - Oxford-street { -- Nicolls | 5 |..| 20 | 480 | 3| 8| 18 | .. - Improvements._ { -- Ellis | 6 |..| 24 | 936 | 3| 13| 18 | .. - { -- T. Brown | 3 |..| 12 | 624 | 4| 13| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Wood | 4 |..| 16 | 576 | 6| 6| 18 | .. - { -- Johnstone | 3 |..| 15 | 360 | 6| 4| 17 | .. - _Clerkenwell._ { -- Clarkson | 6 |..| 24 | 432 | 6| 3| 16 | .. - { -- North | 3 |..| 12 | 144 | 3| 4| 18 | .. - { -- J. Brown | 2 |..| 6 | 180 | 6| 5| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Rhodes | 5 |..| 20 | 500 | 5| 5| 18 | .. - _St. Luke’s._ { -- Wood | 5 |..| 20 | 360 | 3| 6| 18 | .. - { -- Dodd | 5 |..| 20 | 1200 | 6| 10| 16 | .. - { -- Gould |10 |..| 30 | 2340 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Pratt & | | | | | | | | - { Sewell | 3 |..| 9 | 351 | 3| 13| 18 | .. - _East London._ { -- Tomkins | 2 |..| 6 | 234 | 3| 13| 18 | .. - { -- Crook | 2 |..| 6 | 234 | 3| 13| 18 | .. - { -- Abbott | 2 |..| 8 | 384 | 6| 8| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Pine | 3 |..| 12 | 324 | 3| 9| 18 | .. - { -- Monk | 3 |..| 12 | 780 | 5| 13| 18 | .. - _Poplar._ { -- Tingey | 2 |..| 8 | 240 | 3| 10| 18 | .. - { -- Gabriel | 4 |..| 16 | 624 | 3| 13| 18 | .. - { -- Jones | 3 |..| 12 | 192 | 4| 4| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - _St. George’s,_{ -- Reddin |10 |..| 40 | 3120 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - { -- G. Whitten | 2 |..| 10 | 780 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - _St. Olave’s,_ { -- Webbon | 3 |..| 12 | 936 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - { -- Reddin |10 |..| 40 | 3120 | 6| 13| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - _St. { -- Bugbee | 2 |..| 6 | 72 | 3| 4| 18 | .. - Saviour’s, { -- Ryder | 2 |..| 6 | 72 | 3| 4| 18 | .. - Southwark._ { -- Wright | 1 |..| 3 | 36 | 3| 4| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Peake | 5 |..| 20 | 3120 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - { -- Duckett |12 |..| 36 | 5616 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - _Bermondsey._ { -- Elworthy | 8 |..| 24 | 3744 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - { -- Slee | 5 |..| 20 | 3120 | 6| 26| 18 | .. - { -- Adams | 4 | 2| 20 | 4680 | 6| 39| 18 | 18 - | | | | | | | | - { -- Gutteris | 3 |..| 9 | 270 | 6| 5| 18 | .. - _Newington._ { -- Crawley | 2 |..| 8 | 256 | 4| 8| 18 | .. - { -- Martainbody| 6 |..| 24 | 960 | 4| 10| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Nicholson | 5 |..| 15 | 1170 | 6| 13| 17 | .. - _Wandsworth._ { -- Mears | 3 |..| 6 | 468 | 6| 13| 17 | .. - { -- Parsons | 4 |..| 16 | 864 | 6| 9| 17 | .. - { -- Easton | 3 |..| 15 | 720 | 6| 8| 17 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- J. Whitton |10 |..| 40 | 2080 | 4| 13| 19 | .. - _Lambeth._ { -- G. Whitton | 8 |..| 24 | 1248 | 4| 13| 19 | .. - { -- Kenning | 2 |..| 10 | 390 | 3| 13| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Hook | 6 |..| 18 | 540 | 3| 10| 18 | .. - { -- Michel | 2 |..| 8 | 384 | 6| 8| 18 | .. - _Camberwell._ { -- Marsland | 2 |..| 8 | 128 | 4| 4| 18 | .. - { -- Walton | 2 |..| 6 | 144 | 4| 6| 18 | .. - { -- Evans | 1 |..| 3 | 90 | 6| 5| 18 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Walker |10 |..| 30 | 3240 | 6| 18| 15 | .. - { -- Brown | 8 |..| 24 | 936 | 3| 13| 18 | .. - _Rotherhithe._ { -- Hobman | 2 |..| 36 | 1404 | 3| 13| 18 | .. - { -- East | 6 |..| 18 | 702 | 3| 13| 18 | .. - { -- Stevens | 5 |..| 20 | 1560 | 6| 13| 15 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Jeffry | 2 |..| 10 | 600 | 6| 10| 15 | .. - _Greenwich._ { -- Turtle | 5 |..| 15 | 720 | 6| 8| 14 | .. - { -- Hiscock | 2 |..| 6 | 432 | 6| 12| 17 | .. - { -- Allen | 2 |..| 10 | 780 | 6| 13| 12 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Connall | 5 |..| 10 | 1560 | 6| 26| 16 | .. - { -- Waller | 3 |..| 6 | 468 | 6| 13| 15 | .. - { -- Miller | 6 |..| 12 | 936 | 6| 13| 15 | .. - { -- Fuller | 8 |..| 16 | 960 | 6| 10| 15 | .. - _Woolwich._ { -- Barnes | 4 |..| 12 | 648 | 6| 9| 15 | .. - { -- Sharpe |12 |..| 36 | 1404 | 3| 13| 15 | .. - { -- Taylor | 8 |..| 24 | 2016 | 6| 14| 15 | .. - { -- Ginno | 5 |..| 20 | 780 | 3| 13| 15 | .. - { -- Millard | 4 |..| 10 | 390 | 3| 13| 15 | .. - { -- Graham | 3 |..| 9 | 270 | 3| 10| 15 | .. - | | | | | | | | - { -- Peakes | 5 |..| 15 | 810 | 6| 9| 15 | .. - _Lewisham._ { -- Wellard | 3 |..| 12 | 936 | 6| 13| 15 | .. - { -- Fleckell | 6 |..| 18 | 1404 | 6| 13| 15 | .. - { -- Hollis | 4 |..| 12 | 288 | 3| 8| 15 | .. - ----------------+---+--+----+------+--+---+----+---- - Total |840|15|3134|259831| | | | - -The rubbish-carters are _paid by week_, 18_s._ to 20_s._ being the -weekly amount; and by _the load_, which is indeed piece-work. The -payment to the operatives by the load varies from 6_d._ to 1_s._ -6_d._, for it is necessarily regulated by the distance to be traversed. -If the rubbish have to be carted a mile to its destination--or, as -the men call it, to “the shoot”--of course it is to be so conveyed at -a proportionally lower rate than if it had to be driven two or three -miles. The employment of men by the load, however, becomes less every -year, and the reason, I am assured, is this:--The great stress of the -labour falls upon the horse. If the animal be strong and manageable, -a man, for the sake of conveying an extra load a day, might overtax -its powers, injure it gradually, and deteriorate its strength and its -value. The operative carters, on their part, have complained that -sometimes even “good” employers have set them to work by the load with -“hard old horses,” which no management could get out of their slow, -long-accustomed pace. Thus a man might clear by the piece-work but -1_s._ 6_d._ a day, with a horse not worth 15_l._; while another carter, -with a superior animal worth twice as much, might clear 3_s._ or 3_s._ -6_d._ Some “hard” masters, I was informed, liked these old horses, -because they were bought cheap, and though they brought in less than -superior animals they were easier kept; while if less were earned by -the piece-work with such horses, less was paid in wages; and if the -horse broke its leg, or was killed, or injured, it was more easily -replaced. This mode of employment is, as I have said, less and less -carried into effect; but it is still one of the ways in which a working -carter may be made a sufferer, because a principal accessary of his -work--the horse--may not be capable of the requisite exertion. - -_The nominal wages_ of the rubbish-carters in the best employ are from -18_s._ to 20_s._ a week; in the worse-paid trade 15_s._ is the more -general price; but even as little as 12_s._ is given by some masters. - -_The actual wages_ are the same as the nominal in the honourable trade, -with the addition of perquisites in beer to the men of from 1_s._ -to 2_s._ weekly, and of “findings,” especially to the carmen, of an -amount I could not ascertain, but perhaps realizing 6_d._ a week. One -carman put all he found on one side to buy new year’s clothes for his -children, and on new year’s eve last year he had 48_s._ 0-1/2_d._, -“money, and what brought money;” but this is far from an usual case. - -The rate of wages paid to the operative rubbish-carters throughout the -different districts of London, I find, by inquiries in each locality, -to be by no means uniform. For instance, at Hampstead the wages are -unexceptionally 20_s._ per week; while at Kensington, Chelsea, and -indeed the whole of the west districts of London, they are 18_s._ -weekly; in St. Martin’s parish, however, 19_s._ a week is paid by two -masters. In the north districts again, 18s. a week is generally paid; -with the exception of Hampstead, where the weekly wages for the same -labour are as high as 20_s._, and Islington, where they are as low as -16_s._ In the central districts, too, the wages are generally 18_s._; -the lower rate of 17_s._ and 16_s._ per week being paid in certain -places by “cutting” and “grasping” individuals, who form isolated -exceptions to the rule. In a certain portion of the eastern districts, -such as Bethnal Green, St. George’s in the East, and Stepney, 16_s._ -and 15_s._ a week appears to be the rule; while in Shoreditch and -Poplar 18_s._ is paid by all the masters. The southern districts of -the metropolis are equally irregular in their rates of wages. Lewisham -pays as low as 15_s._, and Woolwich the same weekly sum, with one -exception. Wandsworth, on the other hand, pays uniformly 17_s._; while -in Southwark, Bermondsey, Newington, and Camberwell, the wages paid by -all are 18_s._ In Lambeth as much as 19_s._ is given by two masters out -of three; whereas, in Greenwich one master pays 14_s._, and the other -even as low as 12_s._ a week. When I come to treat of the lower-paid -trade, I shall explain the causes of the above difference as regards -wages. - -The analysis of the facts I have collected on this subject is as -follows:--Out of 180 masters, employing among them 840 men, there are-- - - Wages - per - Week. - 5 masters employing 11 men, and paying 20_s._ - 5 „ „ 30 „ „ 19_s._ - 127 „ „ 605 „ „ 18_s._ - 6 „ „ 20 „ „ 17_s._ - 16 „ „ 70 „ „ 16_s._ - 19 „ „ 97 „ „ 15_s._ - 1 „ „ 5 „ „ 14_s._ - 1 „ „ 2 „ „ 12_s._ - -Hence, three-fourths of the operatives may be said to receive 18_s._ -weekly, and about one-sixth 16_s._ - -_The perquisites_ in this trade are more in beer than in money, nor are -they derived from the employers, unless exceptionally. They are given -to the rubbish-carters by the owners of the premises where they work, -and may, in the best trade, amount, in beer or in money to buy beer, -to from 1_s._ 6_d._ to 2_s._ weekly per man. The other perquisites are -what is found in the digging of the rubbish for the carts, and in the -shooting of it. As in other trades of a not dissimilar character, there -appears to be no fixed rule as to “treasure trove.” One man told me -that in digging or shovelling each man kept what he found; another said -the men drank it. Anything found, however, when the cart is emptied is -the perquisite of the carman. “It’s luck as is everything;” said one -carman. “There was a mate of mine as hadn’t not no better work nor me, -once found an old silver coin, like a bad half-crown, as a gen’lman -he knowed gave him five good shillings for, and he found a silver -spoon as fetched 1_s._ 9_d._, in one week, and that same week on the -same ground _I_ got nothing but five bad ha’pennies. I once worked in -the City where the Sun office now is, just by the Hall of Commerce in -Threadneedle-street, and something was found in the Hall as now is; it -was a French church once; and an old gent gave us on the sly 1_s._ a -day for beer, to show him or tell him of anything we turned up queer. -We did show him things as we thought queer, and they looked queer, but -he all’us said ‘Chi-ish,’ or ‘da-amn.’ From what I’ve heard him say to -another old cove as sometimes was with him, they looked for something -Roman Catholic.” My informant no doubt meant “Roman,” as in digging the -foundations of the Hall of Commerce a tesselated Roman pavement was -found at a great depth. - -Among these workmen are _no Trade Societies, no Benefit or Sick-Clubs_, -and, indeed, no measures whatever for the upholding of accustomed -wages, or providing “for a rainy day,” unless individually. If a -rubbish-carter be sick, the men in the same employ, whatever their -number, 10 or 40, contribute on the Saturday evenings 6_d._ each, -towards his support, until the patient’s convalescence. There are no -Houses of Call. - -The _payment is in the master’s yard_ on the Saturday evening, and -always in money. There are no drawbacks, unless for any period during -the hours of regular labour, when a man may have been absent from his -work. Fines there are none, except in large establishments among the -carmen where many horses are kept, and then, if a man do not keep his -regular stable-hours in the mornings, especially the Sunday mornings, -he is fined 6_d._ These fines are spent by the carmen generally, and -most frequently in beer. - -The _usual way of applying for work_ is to call at the yards or -premises, or, more frequently, to take a round in the districts where -it is known that buildings or excavations are being carried on, to -inquire of the men if a hand be wanted. Sometimes a foreman may be -there who has authority to “put on” new hands; if not, the applicant, -with the prospect of an engagement in view, calls upon any party he may -be directed to. Several men told me that when they were engaged nothing -was said about character. The employers seem to be much influenced by -the applicant’s appearance. - -I must now give a brief description of the rubbish-carter, and the -scene of his labours. - -Any one who observes, and does not merely see, the labour of the -rubbish-carter, will have been struck with the stolid indifference with -which these men go about their work, however much the scene of their -labours, from its historical associations, may interest the better -informed. So it was when the rubbish carters were employed in removing -the ruins of the old Houses of Parliament, and of that portion of the -Tower which suffered from the ravages of the fire; and so it would -be if they were directed to-morrow to commence the demolition and -rubbish-carting of Westminster Abbey, the Temple Church, or St. Paul’s, -even in their present integrity. - -Sometimes the scene of the rubbish-carter’s industry presents what -may be called a “piteous aspect.” This was not long ago the case in -Cannon-street, City, and the adjacent courts and alleys; when the -houses had been cleared of their furniture, the windows were removed -(giving the house what may be styled a “blind” look); most of the -doors had been taken away, as well as some of the floors. Large -cyphers, scrawled in whitewash on the walls and woodwork, intimated the -different “lots,” and all spoke of desertion; the only moving thing to -be seen, perhaps, was some flapping paper, torn from the sides of a -room and which fluttered in the wind. - -A scene of exceeding bustle follows the apparent desolateness of -the premises. When the whole has been disposed of to the several -purchasers, the further and final work of demolition begins. Baskets -filled with the old bricks are rapidly lowered by ropes and pulleys -into the carts below, it being the carter’s business to empty them, -and then up the empty baskets are drawn, as if by a single jerk. The -sound of the hammer used in removing and separating the old bricks of -the building, the less frequent sound of the pick-axe, the rumble of -the stones and bricks into the cart, the noise of the pulleys, the -shouts of the men aloft, crying “be-low there!” the half-articulate -exclamations of the carters choked with dust, form a curious medley -of noises. The atmosphere is usually a cloud of dust, which sticks to -the men’s hair like powder. The premises are boarded round, and if -adjoining a thoroughfare the boards are closely fitted, to prevent the -curious and the loiterers obstructing the current of passengers. The -work within is confined to the labourers; “no persons admitted except -on business” seems a rule rigidly enforced. The only men inside who -appear idle are the over-lookers, or surveyors. They stand with their -hands in their breeches’ pockets; and a stranger to the business might -account them uninterested spectators, but for the directions they -occasionally give, now quietly, and now snappishly; while the Irishmen -show an excessive degree of activity, the assumption of which never -deceives an overlooker. - -From twelve to one is the customary dinner-hour, and then all is quiet. -On visiting some new buildings at Maida-hill, I found seven men, out -of about 30, all fast asleep in the nooks and corners of the piles of -bricks and rubbish, the day being fine. The others were eating their -dinners at the public-houses or at their own homes. - -In the progress of pulling down, the work of removal goes on very -rapidly where a strong force is employed--the number varying from about -twelve to 30 men. A four-storied house is often pulled down to its -basement, and the contents of the walls, floors, &c., removed, in ten -days or a fortnight. - -As the work of demolition goes on, the rubbish-carter loads the cart -with the old bricks, mortar, and refuse which the labourers have -displaced. In some places, where a number of buildings is being -removed at the same time, an inclined plane or road is formed by the -rubbish-carters, up and down which the horses and vehicles can proceed. -Until such means of carriage have been employed, the rubbish from the -interior foundation is often shot in a mound within the premises, and -carried off when the way has been formed, excepting such portion as may -be retained for any purpose. - -In hot weather, many of the rubbish-carters in the fair trade work in -their shirts, a broad woollen belt being strapped round the waist, -which, they say, supports “the small of the back” in their frequent -bending and stooping. Some wear woollen night-caps at this work when -there is much dust; and nearly all the men in the honourable trade -wear the “strong men’s” half-boots, laced up in the front, as the best -protectors of the feet from the intrusion of rubbish. - -In the cold weather, the rubbish-carter’s working dress is usually a -suit of strong drab-white fustian. The suit comprises a jacket with -two large pockets. The cost of such a suit, new, at a slop-tailor’s, -is from 28_s._ to 35_s._; from a good shop, and of better materials, -40_s._ to 55_s._ Some prefer stout corduroy to fustian trowsers; and -some work in short smock-frocks. - -Having thus shown the nature of the work, the class of men -employed, and the amount of remuneration, I proceed to describe the -characteristics of the rubbish-carters employed by the honourable -masters; I will then describe the state of the labourers who are -_casually_ rather than _constantly_ employed; and finally speak of the -condition and habits of the lower-paid workers under the cheap masters. - -_The Ability to Read and Write._--I think I heard of fewer instances of -defective education among the rubbish-carters than among other classes -of unskilled labourers. The number of men who could read and not write, -I found computed at about one-half. It appears that the children of -these men are very generally sent to school, which is certainly a -healthful sign as to the desire of the parents to do justice to their -offspring. As among other classes, I met with uneducated men who had -exaggerated notions of the advantages of the capability of reading and -writing, and men who possessed such capability representing it as a -worthless acquirement. - -The _majority of the Rubbish-Carters_ in the honourable trade are, I -am informed, _really married men_, and have families “born in lawful -wedlock.” One decent and intelligent man, to whom I was referred, -said (his wife being present and confirming his statement): “I don’t -know how it is, sir, but they say one scabbed sheep will affect a -flock.” “Oh! it’s dreadful,” said the wife; “but some way it seems -to run in places. Now, we’ve lived among people much in our own way -of life in Clerkenwell, and Pentonville, and Paddington. Well, we’ve -reason to believe, that there wasn’t much living together unmarried in -Clerkenwell or Pentonville, but a goodish deal in Paddington. I don’t -know why, for they seemed to live one with another, just as men do -with their wives. But if there’s daughters, sir, as is growing up and -gets to know it, as they’re like enough to do, ain’t it a bad example? -Yes, indeed,” said the wife, “and I’m told they call going together in -that bad way--they ought all to be punished--without ever entering a -church or chapel, getting ‘ready married.’” I inquired if they were not -perhaps married quietly at the Registrar’s office? “O, that,” said Mrs. -B----, “ain’t like being married at all. _I_ would never have consented -to such a way, but I’m pretty certain they don’t as much as do that. -No, sir,” (in answer to another inquiry), “I hope, and think, it ain’t -so bad among young couples as it was, but its bad enough as it is, -God he knows.” The proportions of Wedlock and Concubinage I could not -learn, for the woman, I was assured, always took the man’s name; and -both man and woman, unless in their cups or their quarrels, declared -they were man and wife, only there was no good in wasting money to get -their “marriage lines” all for no use. - -_The Politics of the rubbish-carters_ are, I am assured by some of the -best informed among them, of no fixity, or principle, or inclination -whatever, as regards one-half of the entire body; and that the other -half, whether ignorant or not, are Chartists, the Irish generally -excepted; and they, I understood, as I had learned on previous -occasions, had no political opinions, unless such as were entertained -by their priests. Strong, rude, and ignorant as many of these carters -are, I am told that few of them took part in any public manifestation -of opinion, or in any disturbance, unless they were out of work. “I -think I know them well,” one of their body said to me, “and as long as -they have pretty middling of work, it’ll take a very great thing indeed -to move ’em. If they was longish out of work and felt a pinch, very -likely they’d be found ready for anything.” - -_With respect to Free Trade_, I am told that these men sometimes -discuss it, and formerly discussed it far more frequently among -themselves, but that it was not above one in a dozen, and of the better -sort only, who cared to talk about it either now or then. There seems -no doubt that the majority, whether they understand its principles -and working or not, are favourable to it; I may say, from all I could -learn, that the _great_ majority are. I heard of one rubbish-carter, -formerly a small farmer, who left London for some other employment, in -the spring, contending, and taking pains to enforce his conviction, -that Free Trade would ruin the best interests of rubbish-carters, as -year by year there would be more agricultural labourers resorting to -the great towns to look for such work as rubbish-carting, for every -farmer would employ more Irish labourers at his own terms, and even the -8_s._ a week, the extent of the earnings of the agricultural labourers -in some parishes, would be undersold by the Irish. Last winter, he -said, very many countrymen came to London, and would do so the next, -and more and more every year, and so make labour cheaper. - -As far as I could extend my inquiries and observations, this man’s -arguments--although I cannot say I heard any one offer to controvert -them--were not considered sound, nor his facts fully established. There -were certainly great numbers of good hands out of employment last -winter, and many new applicants for work; “but buildings,” I was told -by a carman, “are of course always slacker carried on in the winter. -Now, this year, so far (beginning of October), things seem to promise -pretty well in our business, and so if it’s good this winter and was -bad the last, why, as there’s the same Free Trade, it seems as if it -had nothing to do with it. There’s not so much building going on now -as there was a few years ago, but trade’s steadier, I think.” - -Other rubbish-carters, in the best trade, said that they had found -little difference for six or eight years, only as bread was cheaper or -dearer; and, if Free Trade made bread cheap, no man ought to say a word -against it, “no matter about anything else.” Of course I give these -opinions as they came to me. - -_As to Food_, these labourers, when in full work, generally live what -they consider _well_; that is, they eat meat and have beer to their -meals every day. Three of them told me that they could not say what -their living cost separately, as they took all their meals at home -with their families, their wives laying out the money. One couple had -six children, and the husband said they cost him about 17_s._ a week -in food, or about 2_s._ 6_d._ per head, reckoning a pint of beer a -day for himself, and not including the youngest, which was an infant -at the breast. The father earned 22_s._ weekly, and the eldest child, -a boy, 3_s._ 6_d._ a week for carrying out and collecting the papers -for a news’-agent. The wife could earn nothing, although an excellent -washerwoman, the cares of her family occupying her whole time. She -always had “the cold shivers,” she said, “if ever she thought of -John’s being out of work, but he was a steady man, and had been pretty -fortunate.” If these men were engaged on a job at any distance, they -sometimes breakfasted before starting, or carried bread and butter with -them, and eat it to a pint of coffee if near enough to a coffee-shop, -but in some places they were not near enough. Their dinners they -carried with them, generally cold meat and bread, in a basin covered -with a plate, a handkerchief being tied round it so as to keep the -plate firm and afford a hold to the bearer. “It’s not always, you see, -sir,” said a rubbish-carter, “that there’s a butcher’s shop near enough -to run to and buy a bit of steak and get it dressed at a tap-room -fire, just for buying a pint of beer, and have a knife and fork, and -a plate, and salt found you into the bargain, and pepper and mustard -too, if you’ll give the girl or the man 1_d._ a week or so. But we’re -glad to get a good cold dinner. O, as to beer, it would be a queer -out-of-the-way place indeed where a landlord didn’t send out a man to -a building with beer.” One single man, who told me he was only a small -eater, gave me the following as his _daily_ bill of fare, as he rarely -took any meals at his lodgings: - - _s._ _d._ - Half-quartern loaf 0 2-3/4 - Butter 0 1 - Coffee (twice a day) 0 3 - Eleven o’clock beer, sometimes a pint and - sometimes half-a-pint, but often obtained - as a perquisite (average) 0 1-1/2 - 1/2 lb. of beef steak, or a chop, or four or - five pennyworth of cold meat from a - cook-shop (average) 0 5 - Potatoes 0 1 - Dinner beer 0 2 - Bread and cheese and beer for supper 0 4 - ------------ - 1 8-1/4 - -This was the average cost of his daily food, while on Sundays he -generally paid 1_s._ 6_d._ for breakfast and tea, and a good dinner off -a hot joint with baked potatoes from the oven, along with the family -and other lodgers. He had a good walk every Sunday morning, he said, -but liked to sleep away the afternoon. He found his own Sunday beer, -costing 4_d._ dinner and supper, but he didn’t eat anything at supper, -as he wasn’t inclined after resting all day, and so his weekly expenses -in food were:-- - - _s._ _d._ - Six working days, at 1_s._ 8-1/4_d._ a day 10 1-1/2 - Sunday 1 10 - ------------ - Week’s food 11 11-1/2 - -To this, in the way of drink or luxuries, I might add, the carter said, -2_d._ a day for gin (although he wasn’t a drinker and was very seldom -tipsy), “for I treat a friend to a quartern one day and may-be he -stands treat the next.” Also 4_d._ for Sunday gin, as he and the other -men took a glass just before dinner for an appetite, and he took one -after dinner to send him asleep. Add, too, 3_d._ a week for tobacco. -In all 1_s._ 7_d._, which swells the weekly cost of eating, drinking, -and smoking to 13_s._ 6-1/2_d._ His washing was 4_d._ a week (he washed -his working jacket and trowsers himself), his rent 2_s._ 6_d._ for a -bed to himself; so that, 16_s._ 4-1/2_d._ being spent out of an earning -of 18_s._, he had but 1_s._ 5-1/2_d._ a week left for his clothes, -shoes, &c. If he wanted a shilling or two for anything, he said, he -knocked off his supper, and then nothing was allowed in his reckoning -for perquisites, so he might be 2_s._ in hand, at least 2_s._, every -week in a regular way of living. This man expressed his conviction -that no man, who had to work hard, could live at smaller cost than he -did. That numbers of men did so, he admitted, but he “couldn’t make it -out.” The two ways of living which I have described may be taken as -the modes prevalent among this class of labourers, who seek to live -“comfortably.” Others who “rough it” live at less cost, dining, for -instance, off a pennyworth of pudding and half a pint of beer. - -I ascertained that among the rubbish-carters, _those most frequently -attendant on public worship are the Irish Roman Catholics_, and such -Englishmen as had been agricultural labourers in rural parishes, and -had been reared in the habit of church-going; a habit in which, but -not without many exceptions, they still persevere. Among London-bred -labourers such habits are rarely formed. - -_The abodes of the better description of rubbish-carters_ are not -generally in those localities which are crowded with the poor. They -reside in the streets off the Edgeware and Harrow-roads, as building -has been carried on to a very great extent in Westbourne, Maida-hill, -&c.; in Portland-town, Camden-town, Somers-town, about King’s-cross; -in Islington, Pentonville, and Clerkenwell; off the Commercial and -Mile-end-roads; in Walworth, Camberwell, Kennington, and Newington; -and, indeed, in all the quarters where building has been prosecuted on -an extensive scale. I was in some of their apartments, and found them -tidy and comfortable-looking: one was especially so. Some stone-fruit -on the mantel-shelf shone as if newly painted, and the fender and -fire-irons glittered from their brightness to the fire of the small -grate. The husband, however, was in good earnings, and the wife cleared -about 5_s._ weekly on superior needlework. There was one thing painful -to observe--the contrast between the robust and sun-burnt look of the -husband, and the delicate and pallid, not to say sickly, appearance -of the wife. The rents for unfurnished apartments vary from 2_s._ to -5_s._, but rarely the latter, unless the wife take in a little washing. -I heard of some at 2_s._, but very few; 2_s._ 6_d._ to 3_s._ 6_d._ are -common prices. - -_I heard of no partiality for amusements among the rubbish-carters_, -beyond what my informant spoke of--a visit to the play. Some, I was -told, but principally the younger men, never missed going to a fair, -which was not too far off. I think not quite one-half of those I spoke -to, with the best earnings, had been to the Exhibition. Of the worst -paid, I am told, not one in 50 went; one man told me that he had no -amusements but his pipe and his beer. Some of them, I was assured, -drank half a gallon of beer in a day, but at intervals, so as not to -be intoxicated. “A hand at cribbage” is a favourite public-house game -among a few of these men; but not above one in half-a-dozen, I was -assured, “knew the cards,” and not one in two dozen played them. - -These, then, are the characteristics of the labouring rubbish-carters -employed in the honourable trade. - -A fine-looking man, upwards of six feet in stature and of proportionate -bulk, with so smart a set to his bushy whiskers, and a look of such -general tidiness (after he had left off work in the evening), that -he might have been taken for a life-guardsman had it not been for a -slight slouch of the shoulders, and a very unmilitary gait, gave me the -following account:-- - -“I’m a London man,” he said, “and though I’m not yet 25, I’ve kept -myself for the last five years. I’ve worked at rubbish-carting and -general ground-work (digging for pipe-laying, &c.,) as we nearly all -do, but mainly at rubbish-carting, and I’m at that now. My friends are -in the same line, so I helped them: I was big enough, and was brought -up that way. O, yes, I can read and write, but I haven’t time, or very -seldom, to read anything but a newspaper now and again. I’m a carman -now, and have a very good master. I’ve served him, more or less, for -three years. I have had 25_s._ a week, and I have had 29_s._, but -that included over-work. Two hours extra work a day makes an extra -day in the week, you see, sir. O, yes, I might have saved money, and -I’m trying to save 25_l._ now to see if I can’t raise a horse and -cart, and begin for myself in a small way, general jobbing. I’ve been -used to cart mould, and gravel, and turf for gentlemen’s gardens, or -when gardens have been laid out in new buildings, as well as rubbish, -for the same master. Last year I set to work in hard earnest in the -same way, and this is where it is that always stops me. Mr. ---- [his -employer] is very busy now, and things look pretty well about here -[Camden-town], but I don’t know how it is in other parts. It was the -same last year, but trade fell off in the winter, and I was three -months out of work. O, that’s a common case, especial with young men, -for of course the old hands has the preference. That’s where it is, -you see, sir; it’s a _uncertain_ trade. It’s always that new shoes is -wanted, but it ain’t always new houses. My money all went, and then all -my things went to the pawn, and when I got fairly to work again, I had -a shirt and a shilling left, and owed some little matters. I’d saved -well on to 50_s._, and could have gone on saving, but for being thrown -out. Then, when you get into regular wages again, there’s your uncle -to meet, and there’s always something wanted--a pair of half-boots, or -a new shirt, or a new tool, or something; so one loses heart about it, -and I can’t abear not to appear respectable. - -“I pay 2_s._ a week for my lodging, but it’s only for half a bed. The -house is let out that way to single men like me, so each bed brings -in 4_s._ a week. There’s two beds in the room where I sleep; I don’t -know how many in all. Why, yes, it’s a respectable sort of a place, but -I don’t much like it. There’s plenty such places; some’s decent and -some’s not. Oh, certainly, a place of your own’s best, if it’s ever -so humble, but it wouldn’t suit a man like me. I may work one week -at Paddington, and the next at Bow, and if I had a furnished room at -Paddington, what good would it be if I went to work at Bow? Only the -bother and expense of removing my sticks again and again. O, people -that find lodgings for such as me, know that well enough, and makes a -prey of us, of course. - -“I take my meals at a public-house or a coffee-shop. O yes, I live -well enough. I have meat every day to dinner; a man like me must keep -up his strength, and you can’t do that without good meat. It’s all -nonsense about vegetables and all that, as if men’s stomachs were like -cows’. I have bread and butter and tea or coffee for breakfast and tea, -sometimes a few cresses with it just to sweeten the blood, which is -the proper use of vegetables. A pint of beer or so for supper, but I -don’t care about supper, though now and then I take a bit of bread and -cheese with a nice fresh onion to it. Well, I’m sure I can’t say what -I lay out in my living in a week; sometimes more and sometimes less. -I keep no account; I pay my way as I go on. Some weeks when I get my -Saturday night’s wage, I have from 2_s._ 6_d._ to 6_s._ 6_d._ left from -last Saturday night’s money, but that’s only when I’ve had nothing to -lay out beyond common. Now, last week I was 4_s._ 9_d._ to the good, -and this week I shall be about the ditto; but then I want a waistcoat -and a silk handkerchief for my neck for Sunday wear; so I must draw on -my Saturday night. There’s a gentleman takes care of my money for me, -and I carry him what I have over in a week, and he takes care of it -for me. I did a good deal of work about his houses--he has a block of -them--and his own place, and I’ve gardened for him; and from what I’ve -heard, my money’s safer with him than with a Savings’ Bank. When I want -to draw he likes to be satisfied what it’s for, and he’s lent me as -much as 33_s._ in different sums, when I was hard up. He’s what I call -a real gentleman. He says if I ever go to him tipsy to draw, and says -it quite solemn like, he’ll take me by the scruff of the neck and kick -me out; though [laughing] he can’t be much above five foot, and has -gray hairs, and seems a feeble sort of a man, I mean of a gentleman. He -enters all I pay in a book. Here it is, sir, for this year, if you’d -like to see it. I wasn’t able to put anything by for a goodish bit. I -lost my book once, but I knew how much, and so did Mr. ----, and he put -it down in a lump. - - £ _s._ _d._ - July 18 In hand 1 3 0 - 25 Received 0 3 6 - Aug. 9 „ 0 3 6 - 23 „ 0 5 0 - Sept. 13 „ 0 9 6 - 20 „ 0 4 0 - 27 „ 0 4 0 - ------------- - £2 12 6 - -“If I can’t save a little to start myself on when I’m a single man, I -can’t ever after, I fancy; so I’m a trying. - -“No, my expenses, over and above my living and lodging and washing, and -all that, ain’t heavy. Yes, I’m very fond of a good play, very. Some -galleries is 6_d._, and some 3_d._; but then there’s refreshment and -that, so it costs 1_s._ a time. Perhaps I go once a week, but only in -autumn and winter, when nights get long, and we leave work at half-past -five. The last time I was at the play was at the Marylebone, but there -was some opera pieces that don’t suit me; such stuff and nonsense. I -like something very lively, or else a deep tragedy. Sadler’s Wells is -the place, sir. I mean to go there to-morrow night. Yes, I’m very fond -of the pantomimes. Concerts I’ve been at, but don’t care for them. -They’re as dear at 2_d._ as an egg a penny, and an egg’s only a bite. - -“Well, I’ve gone to church sometimes, but a carman hasn’t time, for he -has his horses to attend to on Sunday mornings, and that uses up his -morning. No, I never go now. Work must be done. It ain’t my fault. I’m -sure, if I could have my wish, I’d never do anything on a Sunday. - -“Yes, there’s far too many as undersells us in work. I know that, but -I don’t like to think about them or to talk about them.” [He seemed -desirous to ignore the very existence of the scurf rubbish-carters.] -“They’re Irish many of them. They’re often quarrelsome and -blood-thirsty, but I know many decent men among the Irishmen in our -gangs. There’s good and bad among them, as there is among the English. -There’s very few of the Irish that are carmen; they haven’t been much -used to horses. - -“I have done a little as a nightman when I worked for Mr. ----. He was -a parish contractor, and undertook such jobs, and liked to put strong -men on to them. I didn’t like it. I can’t think it’s a healthy trade. I -can’t say, but I heard it represented, that in this particular calling -there was a great deal of under-contracting going on when the railway -undertakings generally received a severe check, and when a great -number of hands were thrown out of employment, and sought employment -in rubbish-carting generally, and apart from railway-work. These hands -suffered greatly for a long time. The tommy-shops and the middle-man -system were enough to swallow the largest amount of railway wages, so -that very few had saved money, and they were willing to work for very -low wages. A good many of these people went to endeavour to find work -at the large new docks being erected at Great Grimsby, near Boston, in -Lincolnshire. Some of the more prudent were able to raise the means of -emigrating, and from one cause or other the pressure of this surplus -labour among rubbish-carters and excavators, as regards the metropolis, -became relieved.” - - -OF CASUAL LABOUR IN GENERAL, AND THAT OF THE RUBBISH-CARTERS IN -PARTICULAR. - -The subject of casual labour is one of such vast importance in -connection with the welfare of a nation and its people, and one of -which the causes as well as consequences seem to be so utterly ignored -by economical writers and unheeded by the public, that I purpose -here saying a few words upon the matter in general, with the view of -enabling the reader the better to understand the difficulties that -almost all unskilled and many skilled labourers have to contend with in -this country. - -By _casual_ labour I mean such labour as can obtain only _occasional_ -as contradistinguished from _constant_ employment. In this definition -I include all classes of workers, literate and illiterate, skilled and -unskilled, whose professions, trades, or callings expose them to be -employed temporarily rather than continuously, and whose incomes are in -a consequent degree fluctuating, casual, and uncertain. - -In no country in the world is there such an extent, and at the same -time such a diversity, of casual labour as in Great Britain. This is -attributable to many causes--commercial and agricultural, natural and -artificial, controllable and uncontrollable. - -I will first show what are the causes of casual labour, and then point -out its effects. - -The causes of casual labour may be grouped under two heads:-- - -I. _The Brisk and Slack Seasons, and Fit Times_, or periodical increase -and decrease of work in certain occupations. - -II. _The Surplus Hands_ appertaining to the different trades. - -First, as to the briskness or slackness of employment in different -occupations. This depends in different trades on different causes, -among which may be enumerated-- - -A. The weather. - -B. The seasons of the year. - -C. The fashion of the day. - -D. Commerce and accidents. - -I shall deal with each of these causes _seriatim_. - -A. The labour of thousands is influenced by the _weather_; it is -suspended or prevented in many instances by stormy or rainy weather; -and in some few instances it is promoted by such a state of things. - -Among those whose labour cannot be executed on _wet days_, or -executed but imperfectly, and who are consequently deprived of their -ordinary means of living on such days, are--paviours, pipe-layers, -bricklayers, painters of the exteriors of houses, slaters, fishermen, -watermen (plying with their boats for hire), the crews of the river -steamers, a large body of agricultural labourers (such as hedgers, -ditchers, mowers, reapers, ploughmen, thatchers, and gardeners), -costermongers and all classes of street-sellers (to a great degree), -street-performers, and showmen. - -With regard to the degree in which agricultural (or indeed in this -instance woodland) labour may be influenced by the weather, I may -state that a few years back there had been a fall of oaks on an estate -belonging to Col. Cradock, near Greta-bridge, and the poor people, -old men and women, in the neighbourhood, were selected to strip off -the bark for the tanners, under the direction of a person appointed -by the proprietor: for this work they were paid by the basket-load. -The trees lay in an open and exposed situation, and the rain was so -incessant that the “barkers” could scarcely do any work for the whole -of the first week, but kept waiting under the nearest shelter in the -hopes that it would “clear up.” In the first week of this employment -nearly one-third of the poor persons, who had commenced their work with -eagerness, had to apply for some temporary parochial relief. A rather -curious instance this, of a parish suffering from the casualty of a -very humble labour, and actually from the attempt of the poor to earn -money, and do work prepared for them. - -On the other hand, some few classes may be said to be benefited by -the rain which is impoverishing others: these are cabmen (who are -the busiest on _showery_ days), scavagers, umbrella-makers, clog and -patten-makers. I was told by the omnibus people that their vehicles -filled better in hot than in wet weather. - -But the labour of thousands is influenced also by the _wind_; an -easterly wind prevailing for a few days will throw out of employment -20,000 dock labourers and others who are dependent on the shipping -for their employment; such as lumpers, corn-porters, timber-porters, -ship-builders, sail-makers, lightermen, watermen, and, indeed, almost -all those who are known as ’long-shoremen. The same state of things -prevails at Hull, Bristol, Liverpool, and all our large ports. - -_Frost_, again, is equally inimical to some labourers’ interests; -the frozen-out market-gardeners are familiar to almost every one, -and indeed all those who are engaged upon the land may be said to be -deprived of work by severely cold weather. - -In the weather alone, then, we find a means of starving thousands -of our people. Rain, wind, and frost are many a labourer’s natural -enemies, and to those who are fully aware of the influence of -“the elements” upon the living and comforts of hundreds of their -fellow-creatures, the changes of weather are frequently watched with a -terrible interest. I am convinced that, altogether, a wet day deprives -not less than 100,000, and probably nearer 200,000 people, including -builders, bricklayers, and agricultural labourers, of their ordinary -means of subsistence, and drives the same number to the public-houses -and beer-shops (on this part of the subject I have collected some -curious facts); thus not only decreasing their income, but positively -increasing their expenditure, and that, perhaps, in the worst of ways. - -Nor can there be fewer dependent on the winds for their bread. If we -think of the vast number employed either directly or indirectly at the -various ports of this country, and then remember that at each of these -places the prevalence of a particular wind must prevent the ordinary -arrival of shipping, and so require the employment of fewer hands; we -shall have some idea of the enormous multitude of men in this country -who can be starved by “a nipping and an eager air.” If in London -alone there are 20,000 people deprived of food by the prevalence of -an easterly wind (and I had the calculation from one of the principal -officers of the St. Katherine Dock Company), surely it will not be too -much to say that throughout the country there are not less than 50,000 -people whose living is thus precariously dependent. - -Altogether I am inclined to believe, that we shall not be over the -truth if we assert there are between 100,000 and 200,000 individuals -and their families, or half a million of people, dependent on the -elements for their support in this country. - - * * * * * - -But this calculation refers to those classes only who are deprived of a -certain number of _days’_ work by an alteration of the weather, a cause -that is essentially _ephemeral_ in its character. The other series of -natural events influencing the demand for labour in this country are of -a more _continuous_ nature--the stimulus and the depression enduring -for weeks rather than days. I allude to the _second_ of the four -circumstances above-mentioned as inducing briskness or slackness of -employment in different occupations, viz.:-- - -B. The seasons. - -These are the seasons of the year, and not the arbitrary seasons of -fashion, of which I shall speak next. - -The following classes are among those exposed to the uncertainty of -employment, and consequently of income, from the above cause, since it -is only in particular seasons that particular works, such as buildings, -will be undertaken, or that open-air pleasure excursions will be -attempted: carpenters, builders, brickmakers, painters, plasterers, -paper-hangers, rubbish-carters, sweeps, and riggers and lumpers, the -latter depending mainly on the arrival of the timber ships to the -Thames (and this, owing to the ice in the Baltic Sea and in the river -St. Lawrence, &c., takes place only at certain seasons of the year), -coal-whippers and coal-porters (the coal trade being much brisker in -winter), market-porters, and those employed in summer in steam-boat, -railway, van, and barge excursions. - -Then there are the casualties attending agricultural labour, for, -although the operations of nature are regular “even as the seed time -follows the harvest,” there is, almost invariably, a smaller employment -of labour after the completion of the haymaking, the sheep-shearing, -and the grain-reaping labours. - -For the hay and corn harvests it is well known that there is a -periodical immigration of Irishmen and women, who clamour for the -_casual_ employment; others, again, leave the towns for the same -purpose; the same result takes place also in the fruit and pea-picking -season for the London green-markets; while in the winter such people -return some to their own country, and some to form a large proportion -of the casual class in the metropolis. A tall Irishman of about 34 -or 35 (whom I had to see when treating of the religion of the street -Irish) leaves his accustomed crossing-sweeping at all or most of the -seasons I have mentioned, and returns to it for the winter at the end -of October; while his wife and children are then so many units to add -to the casualties of the street sale of apples, nuts, and onions, by -overstocking the open-air markets. - -The autumnal season of hop-picking is the grand rendezvous for the -vagrancy of England and Ireland, the stream of London vagrancy flowing -freely into Kent at that period, and afterwards flowing back with -increased volume. Men, women, and children are attracted to the hop -harvest. The season is over in less than a month, and then the casual -labourers engaged in it (and they are nearly all casual labourers) -must divert their industry, or their endeavours for a living, into -other channels, swelling the amount of casualty in unskilled work or -street-trade. - -Numerically to estimate the influence of the seasons on the -labour-market of this country is almost an overwhelming task. Let us -try, however: there are in round numbers one million agricultural -labourers in this country; saying that in the summer four labourers -are employed for every three in the winter, there would be 250,000 -people and their families, or say 1,000,000 of individuals, deprived -of their ordinary subsistence in the winter time; this, of course, -does not include those who come from Ireland to assist at the -harvest-getting--how many these may be I have no means of ascertaining. -Added to these there are the natural vagabonds, whom I have before -estimated at another hundred thousand (see p. 408, vol. i.), and who -generally help at the harvest work or the fruit or hop-picking. - -Then there are the carpenters, who are 163,000 in number; the builders, -9200; the brickmakers, 18,000; the painters, 48,200; the coal-whippers, -9200; the coal-miners, 110,000; making altogether 350,000 people, and -estimating that for every four hands employed in the brisk season, -there are only three required in the slack, we have 80,000 more -families, or 300,000 people, deprived of their living by the casualty -of labour; so that if we assert that there are, at the least, including -agricultural labourers, 1,250,000 people thus deprived of their usual -means of living, we shall not be very wide of the truth. - -The next cause of the briskness or slackness of different employments -is-- - -C. Fashion. - -The London fashionable season is also the parliamentary season, and is -the “briskest” from about the end of February to the middle of July. - -The workmen most affected by the aristocratic, popular, or general -fashions, are-- - -Tailors, ladies’ habit-makers, boot and shoe-makers, hatters, -glovers, milliners, dress-makers, mantua-makers, drawn and straw -bonnet-makers, artificial flower-makers, plumassiers, stay-makers, -silk and velvet weavers, saddlers, harness-makers, coach-builders, -cabmen, job-coachmen, farriers, livery stable keepers, poulterers, -pastry-cooks, confectioners, &c., &c. - -The above-mentioned classes may be taken, according to the Occupation -Abstract of the last Census, at between 500,000 and 600,000; and, -assuming the same ratio as to the difference of employment between the -brisk and the slack seasons of the trades, or, in other words, that -25 per cent. less hands are required at the slack than at the brisk -time of these trades, we have another 150,000 people, who, with their -families, may be estimated altogether at say 500,000, who are thrown -out of work at a certain season, and have to starve on as best they can -for at least three months in the year. - -The last-mentioned of the causes inducing briskness or slackness of -employment are-- - -D. Commerce and Accidents. - -_Commerce_ has its periodical fits and starts. The publishers, for -instance, have their season, generally from October to March, as people -read more in winter than in summer; and this arrangement immediately -effects the printers and bookbinders; there is no change, however, as -regards the newspapers and periodicals. Again, the early importation -to this country of the new foreign fruits gives activity to the dock -and wharf labourers and porters and carmen. Thus the arrival here, -generally in autumn, of the nut, chestnut, and grape (raisin) produce -of Spain; of the almond crops in Portugal, Spain, and Barbary; the date -harvest in Morocco, and different parts of Africa; the orange gathering -in Madeira, and in St. Michael’s, Terceira, and other islands of the -Azores; the fig harvest from the Levant; the plum harvest of the south -of France; the currant picking of Zante, Ithaca, and other Ionian -Islands;--all these events give an activity, as new fruit is always -most saleable, to the traders in these southern productions; and more -shopmen, shop-porters, wharf labourers, and assistant lightermen are -required--casually required--for the time. - -I was told by a grocer, with a country connection, and in a large -way of business, that for three weeks or a month before Christmas he -required the aid of four fresh hands, a shopman, an errand-boy, and two -porters (one skilled in packing), for whom he had nothing to do after -Christmas. If in the wide sweep of London trade there be 1000 persons, -including the market salesmen, the retail butchers, the carriers, &c., -so circumstanced, then 4000 men are _casually_ employed, and for a very -brief time. - -The brief increase of the carrying business generally about Christmas, -by road, water, or railway, is sufficiently indicated by the foregoing -account. - -The employment, again, in the cotton and woollen manufacturing -districts may be said to depend for its briskness on commerce rather -than on the seasons. - -_Accidents_, or extraordinary social events, promote casual labour and -then depress it. Often they depress without having promoted it. - -During the display of the Great Exhibition, there were some thousands -employed in the different capacities of police, packing, cleaning, -porterage, watching, interpreting, door-keeping and money-taking, -cab-regulating, &c.; and after the close of the Exhibition how -many were retained? Thus the Great Exhibition fostered casual, or -uncertain labour. Foreign revolutions, moreover, affect the trade of -England: speculators become timid and will not embark in trade or in -any proposed undertaking; the foreign import and export trades are -paralysed; and fewer clerks and fewer labourers are employed. Home -political agitations, also, have the same effect; as was seen in -London during the corn-law riots, about 35 years ago (when only eight -members of the House of Commons supported a change in those laws); the -Spafields riots in 1817; the affair in St. Peter’s-field, Manchester, -in 1819; the disturbances and excitement during the trial of Queen -Caroline, in 1820-1, and the loss of life on the occasion of her -funeral in 1821; the agitation previously to the passing of the Reform -Bill had a like effect; the meeting on Kennington Common on the 10th -of April;--in all these periods, indeed, employment decreased. Labour -is affected also by the death of a member of the royal family, and -the hurried demand for general mourning, but in a very small degree -to what was once the case. A West-End tailor employing a great number -of hands did not receive a single order for mourning on the death of -Queen Adelaide; while on the demise of the Princess Charlotte (in 1817) -thousands of operative tailors, throughout the three kingdoms, worked -day and night, and for double wages, on the general mourning. Gluts -in the markets, an increase of heavy bankruptcies and “panics,” such -as were experienced in the money market in 1825-6, and again in 1846, -with the failure of banks and merchants, likewise have the effect of -augmenting the mass of casual labour; for capitalists and employers, -under such circumstances, expend as little as possible in wages or -employment until the storm blows over. Bad harvests have a similar -depressing effect. - -There are also the consequences of changes of taste. The abandonment -of the fashions of gentlemen’s wearing swords, as well as embroidered -garments, flowing periwigs, large shoe-buckles, all reduced able -artizans to poverty by depriving them of work. So it was, when, to -carry on the war with France, Mr. Pitt introduced a tax on hair powder. -Hundreds of hair-dressers were thrown out of employment, many persons -abandoning the fashion of wearing powder rather than pay the tax. There -are now city gentlemen, who can remember that when clerks, they had -sometimes to wait two or three hours for “their turn” at a barber’s -shop on a Sunday morning; for they could not go abroad until their -hair was dressed and powdered, and their queues trimmed to the due -standard of fashion. So it has been, moreover, in modern times in the -substitution of silk for metal buttons, silk hats for stuff, and in the -supersedence of one material of dress by another. - -These several causes, then, which could only exist in a community of -great wealth and great poverty have rendered, and are continually -rendering, the labour market uncertain and over-stocked; to what extent -they do and have done this, it is, of course, almost impossible to -say _precisely_; but, even with the strongest disposition to avoid -exaggeration, we may assert that there are in this country no less -than 125,000 families, or 500,000 people, who depend on the weather -for their food; 300,000 families, or 1,250,000 people, who can -obtain employment only at particular seasons; 150,000 more families, -or 500,000 people, whose trade depends upon the fashionable rather -than the natural seasons, are thrown out of work at the cessation of -the brisk time of their business; and, perhaps, another 150,000 of -families, or 500,000 people, dependent on the periodical increase and -decrease of commerce, and certain social and political accidents which -tend to cause a greater or less demand for labour. Altogether we may -assert, with safety, that there are at the least 725,000 families, or -three millions of men, women, and children, whose means of living, far -from being certain and constant, are of a precarious kind, depending -either upon the rain, the wind, the sunshine, the caprice of fashion, -or the ebbings and flowings of commerce. - - * * * * * - -But there is a still more potent cause at work to increase the amount -of _casual_ labour in this country. Thus far we have proceeded on -the assumption that at the brisk season of each trade there is full -employment for all; but this is far from being the case in the great -majority, if not the whole, of the instances above cited. In almost all -occupations there is in this country a _superfluity of labourers_, and -this alone would tend to render the employment of a vast number of the -hands of a casual rather than a regular character. In the generality -of trades the calculation is that one-third of the hands are fully -employed, one-third partially, and one-third unemployed throughout the -year. This, of course, would be the case if there were twice too many -work-people; for suppose the number of work-people in a given trade -to be 6000, and the work sufficient to employ (fully) only half the -quantity, then, of course, 2000 might be occupied their whole time, -2000 more might have work sufficient to occupy them half their time, -and the remaining 2000 have no work at all; or the whole 4000 might, -on the average, obtain three months’ employment out of the twelve; -and this is frequently the case. Hence we see that a surplusage of -hands in a trade tends to change the employment of the great majority -from a state of constancy and regularity into one of casualty and -precariousness. - -Consequently it becomes of the highest importance that we should -endeavour to ascertain what are the circumstances inducing a surplusage -of hands in the several trades of the present day. A _surplusage of -hands_ in a trade may proceed from three different causes, viz.:-- - -1. The alteration of the hours, rate, or mode of working, or else the -term of hiring. - -2. The increase of the hands themselves. - -3. The decrease of the work. - -Each of these causes is essentially distinct; in the first case there -is neither an increase in the number of hands nor a decrease in the -quantity of work, and yet a surplusage of labourers is the consequence, -for it is self-evident that if there be work enough in a given trade -to occupy 6000 men all the year round, labouring twelve hours per -day for six days in the week, the same quantity of work will afford -occupation to only 4000 men, or one-third less, labouring between -fifteen and sixteen hours per diem for seven days in the week. The -same result would, of course, take place, if the workman were made to -labour one-third more _quickly_, and so to get through one-third more -work in the same time (either by increasing their interest in their -work, by the invention of a new tool, by extra supervision, or by the -subdivision of labour, &c., &c.), the same result would, of course, -ensue as if they laboured one-third longer hours, viz., one-third of -the hands must be thrown out of employment. So, again, by altering the -_mode or form of work_, as by producing on the large scale, instead -of the small, a smaller number of labourers are required to execute -the same amount of work; and thus (if the market for such work be -necessarily limited) a surplusage of labourers is the result. Hence we -see that the alteration of the hours, rate, or mode of working may tend -as positively to overstock a country with labourers as if the labourers -themselves had unduly increased. - -But this, of course, is on the assumption that both the quantity of -work and the number of hands remain the same. The next of the three -causes, above mentioned as inducing a surplusage of hands, is that -which arises from a positive _increase in the number of labourers_, -while the quantity of work remains the same or increases at a less rate -than the labourers; and the third cause is, where the surplusage of -labourers arises not from any alteration in the number of hands, but -from a positive _decrease in the quantity of work_. - -These are distinctions necessary to be borne clearly in mind for the -proper understanding of this branch of the subject. - -In the first case both the number of hands and the quantity of work -remain the same, but the term, rate, or mode of working is changed. - -In the second, hours, rate, or mode of working remain the same, as well -as the quantity of work, but the number of hands is increased. - -And in the third case, neither the number of hands nor the hours, rate, -or mode of working is supposed to have been altered, but the work only -to have decreased. - -The surplusage of hands will, of course, be the same in each of these -cases. - -I will begin with the first, viz., that which induces a surplusage -of labourers in a trade by enabling fewer hands to get through the -ordinary amount of work. This is what is called the “economy of labour.” - -There are, of course, only three modes of economizing labour, or -causing the same quantity of work to be done by a smaller number of -hands. - -1st. By causing the men to work _longer_. - -2nd. By causing the men to work _quicker_, and so get through more work -in the same time. - -3rd. By _altering the mode_ of work, or hiring, as in the “large -system of production,” where fewer hands are required; or the custom -of temporary hirings, where the men are retained only so long as their -services are needed, and discharged immediately afterwards. - -First, of that mode of economizing labour which depends on an _increase -of either the ordinary hours or days for work_. This is what is usually -termed over-work and Sunday-work, both of which are largely creative -of surplus hands. The hours of labour in mechanical callings are -usually twelve, two of them devoted to meals, or 72 hours (less by the -permitted intervals) in a week. In the course of my inquiries for the -_Chronicle_, I met with slop cabinet-makers, tailors, and milliners who -worked sixteen hours and more daily, their toil being only interrupted -by the necessity of going out, if small masters, to purchase materials, -and offer the goods for sale; or, if journeymen in the slop trade, to -obtain more work and carry what was completed to the master’s shop. -They worked on Sundays also; one tailor told me that the coat he worked -at on the previous Sunday was for the Rev. Mr. ----, who “little -thought it,” and these slop-workers rarely give above a few minutes to -a meal. Thus they toil 40 hours beyond the hours usual in an honourable -trade (112 hours instead of 72), in the course of a week, or between -three and four days of the regular hours of work of the six working -days. In other words, two such men will in less than a week accomplish -work which should occupy three men a full week; or 1000 men will -execute labour fairly calculated to employ 1500 at the least. A paucity -of employment is thus caused among the general body, by this system -of over-labour decreasing the share of work accruing to the several -operatives, and so adding to surplus hands. - -Of over-work, as regards excessive labour, both in the general and -fancy cabinet trade, I heard the following accounts, which different -operatives concurred in giving; while some represented the labour as of -longer duration by at least an hour, and some by two hours, a day, than -I have stated. - -The labour of the men who depend entirely on “the slaughter-houses” -for the purchase of their articles is usually seven days a week -the year through. That is, seven days--for Sunday work is all but -universal--each of 13 hours, or 91 hours in all; while the established -hours of labour in the “honourable trade” are six days of the week, -each of 10 hours, or 60 hours in all. Thus 50 per cent. is added to -the extent of the production of low-priced cabinet-work, merely from -“over-hours;” but in some cases I heard of 15 hours for seven days in -the week, or 105 hours in all. - -Concerning the hours of labour in this trade, I had the following -minute particulars from a garret-master who was a chair-maker:-- - -“I work from six every morning to nine at night; some work till ten. -My breakfast at eight stops me for ten minutes. I can breakfast in -less time, but it’s a rest; my dinner takes me say twenty minutes at -the outside; and my tea, eight minutes. All the rest of the time I’m -slaving at my bench. How many minutes’ rest is that, sir? Thirty-eight; -well, say three-quarters of an hour, and that allows a few sucks at a -pipe when I rest; but I can smoke and work too. I have only one room -to work and eat in, or I should lose more time. Altogether I labour -14-1/4 hours every day, and I must work on Sundays--at least 40 Sundays -in the year. One may as well work as sit fretting. But on Sundays I -only work till it’s dusk, or till five or six in summer. When it’s -dusk I take a walk. I’m not well-dressed enough for a Sunday walk when -it’s light, and I can’t wear my apron on that day very well to hide -patches. But there’s eight hours that I reckon I take up every week one -with another, in dancing about to the slaughterers. I’m satisfied that -I work very nearly 100 hours a week the year through; deducting the -time taken up by the slaughterers, and buying stuff--say eight hours -a week--it gives more than 90 hours a week for my work, and there’s -hundreds labour as hard as I do, just for a crust.” - -The East-end turners generally, I was informed, when inquiring into -the state of that trade, labour at the lathe from six o’clock in the -morning till eleven and twelve at night, being 18 hours’ work per day, -or 108 hours per week. They allow themselves two hours for their meals. -It takes them, upon an average, two hours more every day fetching and -carrying their work home. Some of the East-end men work on Sundays, and -not a few either, said my informant. “Sometimes I have worked hard,” -said one man, “from six one morning till four the next, and scarcely -had any time to take my meals in the bargain. I have been almost -suffocated with the dust flying down my throat after working so many -hours upon such heavy work too, and sweating so much. It makes a man -drink where he would not.” - -This system of over-work exists in the “slop” part of almost every -business--indeed, it is the principal means by which the cheap trade is -maintained. Let me cite from my letters in the _Chronicle_ some more of -my experience on this subject. As regards the London mantua-makers, I -said:--“The workwomen for good shops that give fair, or tolerably fair -wages, and expect good work, can make six average-sized mantles in a -week, _working from ten to twelve hours a day_; but the slop-workers, -by toiling from thirteen to sixteen hours a day, will make _nine_ such -sized mantles in a week. In a season of twelve weeks 1000 workers -for the slop-houses and warehouses would at this rate make 108,000 -mantles, or 36,000 more than workers for the fair trade. Or, to put it -in another light, these slop-women, by being compelled, in order to -live, to work such over-hours as inflict lasting injury on the health, -supplant, by their over-work and over-hours, the labour of 500 hands, -working the regular hours.” - -The following are the words of a chamber-master, working for the cheap -shoe trade:-- - -“From people being obliged to work twice the hours they once _did_ -work, or that in reason they _ought_ to work, a glut of hands is the -consequence, and the masters are led to make reductions in the wages. -They take advantage of our poverty and lower the wages, so as to -undersell each other, and command business. My daughters have to work -fifteen hours a day that we may make a bare living. They seem to have -no spirit and no animation in them; in fact, such very hard work takes -the youth out of them. They have no time to enjoy their youth, and, -with all their work, they can’t present the respectable appearance they -ought.” “I” (interposed my informant’s wife) “often feel a faintness -and oppression from my hard work, as if my blood did not circulate.” - -The better class of artizans denounce the system of Sunday working as -the most iniquitous of all the impositions. They object to it, not -only on moral and religious grounds, but economically also. “Every -600 men employed on the Sabbath,” say they, “deprive 100 individuals -of a week’s work. Every six men who labour seven days in the week -must necessarily throw one other man out of employ for a whole week. -The seventh man is thus deprived of his fair share of work by the -overtoiling of the other six.” This Sunday working is a necessary -consequence of the cheap slop-trade. The workmen cannot keep their -families by their six days’ labour, and therefore they not only, under -that system, get less wages and do more work, but by their extra labour -throw so many more hands out of employment. - -Here then, in the over-work of many of the trade, we find a vast cause -of surplus hands, and, consequently, of casual labour; and that the -work in these trades has not proportionately increased is proven by the -fact of the existence of a superfluity of workmen. - -Let us now turn our attention to the second of the causes above cited, -viz., _the causing of men to work quicker_, and so to accomplish -more in the same time. There are several means of attaining this end; -it may be brought about either (_a_) by making the workman’s gains -depend directly on the quantity of work executed by him, as by the -substitution of piece-work for day-work; (_b_) by the omission of -certain details or parts necessary for the perfection of the work; -(_c_) by decreasing the workman’s pay, and so increasing the necessity -for him to execute a greater quantity of work in order to obtain the -same income; (_d_) increasing the supervision, and encouraging a spirit -of emulation among the workpeople; (_e_) by dividing the labour into a -number of simple and minute processes, and so increasing the expertness -of the labourers; (_f_) by the invention of some new tool or machine -for expediting the operations of the workman. - -I shall give a brief illustration of each of these causes _seriatim_, -showing how they tend to produce a surplusage of hands in the trades -to which they are severally applied. And first, as to _making the -workman’s gains depend directly on the quantity of work executed by -him_. - -Of course there are but two direct modes of paying for labour--either -by the day or by the piece. Over-work by day-work is effected by means -of what is called the “strapping system” (as described in the _Morning -Chronicle_ in my letter upon the carpenters and joiners), where a whole -shop are set to race over their work in silence one with another, each -striving to outdo the rest, from the knowledge that anything short of -extraordinary exertion will be sure to be punished with dismissal. -Over-work by piece-work, on the other hand, is almost a necessary -consequence of that mode of payment--for where men are paid by the -quantity they do, of course it becomes the interest of a workman to do -more than he otherwise would. - -“Almost all who work by the day, or for a fixed salary, that is to -say, those who labour for the gain of others, not for their own, -have,” it has been well remarked, “no interest in doing more than the -smallest quantity of work that will pass as a fulfilment of the mere -terms of their engagement. Owing to the insufficient interest which -day labourers have in the result of their labour, there is a natural -tendency in such labour to be extremely inefficient--a tendency -only to be overcome by vigilant superintendence on the part of the -persons who _are_ interested in the result. The ‘master’s eye’ is -notoriously the only security to be relied on. But superintend them -as you will, day labourers are so much inferior to those who work by -the piece, that, as was before said, the latter system is practised in -all industrial occupations where the work admits of being put out in -definite portions, without involving the necessity of too troublesome -a surveillance to guard against inferiority (or scamping) in the -execution.” But if the labourer at piece-work is made to produce a -greater quantity than at day-work, and this solely by connecting his -own interest with that of his employer, how much more largely must the -productiveness of workmen be increased when labouring wholly on their -own account! Accordingly it has been invariably found that whenever -the operative unites in himself the double function of capitalist -and labourer, as the “garret-master” in the cabinet trade, and the -“chamber-master” in the shoe trade, making up his own materials or -working on his own property, his productiveness, single-handed, is -considerably greater than can be attained even under the large system -of production, where all the arts and appliances of which extensive -capital can avail itself are brought into operation. - -As regards the increased production by _omitting certain details -necessary for the due perfection of the work_, it may be said that -“scamping” adds at least 200 per cent. to the productions of the -cabinet-maker’s trade. I ascertained, in the course of my previous -inquiries, several cases of this over-work from scamping, and adduce -two. A very quick hand, a little master, working, as he called it, “at -a slaughtering pace,” for a warehouse, made 60 plain writing-desks in a -week of 90 hours; while a first-rate workman, also a quick hand, made -18 in a week of 70 hours. The scamping hand said he must work at the -rate he did to make 14_s._ a week from a slaughter-house; and so used -to such style of work had he become, that, though a few years back he -did West-end work in the best style, he could not now make eighteen -desks in a week, if compelled to finish them in the style of excellence -displayed in the work of the journeyman employed for the honourable -trade. Perhaps, he added, he couldn’t make them in that style at all. -The frequent use of rosewood veneers in the fancy cabinet, and their -occasional use in the general cabinet trade gives, I was told, great -facilities for scamping. If in his haste the scamping hand injure the -veneer, or if it have been originally faulty, he takes a mixture of -gum shellac and “colour” (colour being a composition of Venetian red -and lamp black), which he has ready by him, rubs it over the damaged -part, smooths it with a slightly-heated iron, and so blends it with -the colour of the rosewood that the warehouseman does not detect the -flaw. In the general, as contradistinguished from the fancy, cabinet -trade I found the same ratio of “scamping.” A good workman in the -better-paid trade made a four-foot mahogany chest of drawers in five -days, working the regular hours, and receiving, at piece-work price, -35_s._ A scamping hand made five of the same size in a week, and had -time to carry them for sale to the warehouses, wait for their purchase -or refusal, and buy material. But for the necessity of doing this the -scamping hand could have made seven in the 91 hours of his week, though -of course in a very inferior manner. “They would hold together for a -time,” I was assured, “and that was all; but the slaughterer cared only -to have them viewly and cheap.” These two cases exceed the average, and -I have cited them to show what _can_ be done under the scamping system. - -We now come to the _increased rate of working induced by a reduction of -the ordinary rate of remuneration of the workman_. Not only is it true -that over-work makes under-pay, but the converse of the proposition -is equally true, that under-pay makes over-work--that is to say, -it is true of those trades where the system of piece-work or small -mastership admits of the operative doing the utmost amount of work -that he is able to accomplish; for the workman in such cases seldom -or never thinks of reducing his expenditure to his income, but rather -of increasing his labour, so as still to bring his income, by extra -production, up to his expenditure. Hence we find that, as the wages -of a trade descend, so do the labourers extend their hours of work -to the utmost possible limits--they not only toil earlier and later -than before, but the Sunday becomes a work-day like the rest (amongst -the “sweaters” of the tailoring trade Sunday labour, as I have shown, -is almost universal); and when the hours of work are carried to the -extreme of human industry, then more is sought to be done in a given -space of time, either by the employment of the members of their own -family, or apprentices, upon the inferior portion of the work, or else -by “scamping it.” “My employer,” I was told by a journeyman tailor -working for the Messrs. Nicoll, “reduces my wages one-third, and the -consequence is, I put in two stitches where I used to give three.” “I -must work from six to eight, and later,” said a pembroke-table-maker -to me, “to get 18_s._ now for my labour, where I used to get 54_s._ a -week--that’s just a third. I could in the old times give my children -good schooling and good meals. Now children have to be put to work -very young. I have four sons working for me at present.” Not only, -therefore, does any stimulus to extra production make over-work, and -over-work make under-pay; but under-pay, by becoming an additional -provocative to increased industry, again gives rise in its turn to -over-work. Hence we arrive at a plain unerring law--_over-work makes -under-pay and under-pay makes over-work_. - -But the above means of increasing the rate of working refer solely -to those cases where the extra labour is induced by making it the -_interest_ of the workman so to do. The other means of extra production -is _by stricter supervision of journeymen, or those paid by the day_. -The shops where this system is enforced are termed “strapping-shops,” -as indicative of establishments where an undue quantity of work is -expected from a journeyman in the course of the day. Such shops, though -not directly making use of cheap labour (for the wages paid in them -are generally of the higher rate), still, by exacting more work, may -of course be said, in strictness, to encourage the system now becoming -general, of less pay and inferior skill. These strapping establishments -sometimes go by the name of “scamping shops,” on account of the time -allowed for the manufacture of the different articles not being -sufficient to admit of good workmanship. - -Concerning this “_strapping_” system I received the following -extraordinary account from a man after his heavy day’s labour. Never in -all my experience had I seen so sad an instance of overwork. The poor -fellow was so fatigued that he could hardly rest in his seat. As he -spoke he sighed deeply and heavily, and appeared almost spirit-broken -with excessive labour:-- - -“I work at what is called a strapping shop,” he said, “and have worked -at nothing else for these many years past in London. I call ‘strapping’ -doing as much work as a human being or a horse possibly can in a day, -and that without any hanging upon the collar, but with the foreman’s -eyes constantly fixed upon you, from six o’clock in the morning to six -o’clock at night. The shop in which I work is for all the world like -a prison; the silent system is as strictly carried out there as in a -model gaol. If a man was to ask any common question of his neighbour, -except it was connected with his trade, he would be discharged there -and then. If a journeyman makes the least mistake, he is packed off -just the same. A man working at such places is almost always in fear; -for the most trifling things he’s thrown out of work in an instant. -And then the quantity of work that one is forced to get through is -positively awful; if he can’t do a plenty of it, he don’t stop long -where I am. No one would think it was possible to get so much out of -blood and bones. No slaves work like we do. At some of the strapping -shops the foreman keeps continually walking about with his eyes on all -the men at once. At others the foreman is perched high up, so that he -can have the whole of the men under his eye together. I suppose since -I knew the trade that a _man does four times the work that he did -formerly_. I know a man that’s done four pairs of sashes in a day, and -one is considered to be a good day’s labour. What’s worse than all, the -men are every one striving one against the other. Each is trying to -get through the work quicker than his neighbours. Four or five men are -set the same job, so that they may be all pitted against one another, -and then away they go every one striving his hardest for fear that the -others should get finished first. They are all bearing along from the -first thing in the morning to the last at night, as hard as they can -go, and when the time comes to knock off they are ready to drop. I was -hours after I got home last night before I could get a wink of sleep; -the soles of my feet were on fire, and my arms ached to that degree -that I could hardly lift my hand to my head. Often, too, when we get -up of a morning, we are more tired than when we went to bed, for we -can’t sleep many a night; but we mustn’t let our employers know it, or -else they’d be certain we couldn’t do enough for them, and we’d get the -sack. So, tired as we may be, we are obliged to look lively, somehow -or other, at the shop of a morning. If we’re not beside our bench the -very moment the bell’s done ringing, our time’s docked--they wont -give us a single minute out of the hour. If I was working for a fair -master, I should do nearly one-third, and sometimes a half, less work -than I am now forced to get through, and, even to manage that much, I -shouldn’t be idle a second of my time. It’s quite a mystery to me how -they _do_ contrive to get so much work out of the men. But they are -very clever people. They know how to have the most out of a man, better -than any one in the world. They are all picked men in the shop--regular -‘strappers,’ and no mistake. The most of them are five foot ten, and -fine broad-shouldered, strong-backed fellows too--if they weren’t they -wouldn’t have them. Bless you, they make no words with the men, they -sack them if they’re not strong enough to do all they want; and they -can pretty soon tell, the very first shaving a man strikes in the shop, -what a chap is made of. Some men are done up at such work--quite old -men and gray with spectacles on, by the time they are forty. I have -seen fine strong men, of 36, come in there and be bent double in two or -three years. They are most all countrymen at the strapping shops. If -they see a great strapping fellow, who they think has got some stuff -about him that will come out, they will give him a job directly. We are -used for all the world like cab or omnibus horses. Directly they’ve -had all the work out of us, we are turned off, and I am sure, after my -day’s work is over, my feelings must be very much the same as one of -the London cab horses. As for Sunday, it is _literally_ a day of rest -with us, for the greater part of us lay a-bed all day, and even that -will hardly take the aches and pains out of our bones and muscles. When -I’m done and flung by, of course I must starve.” - -The next means of inducing a quicker rate of working, and so -economizing the number of labourers, is by the _division_ and -_subdivision of labour_. In perhaps all the skilled work of London, of -the better sort, this is more or less the case; it is the case in a -much smaller degree in the country. - -The nice subdivision makes the operatives perfect adepts in their -respective branches, working at them with a greater and a more assured -facility than if their care had to be given to the whole work, and in -this manner the work is completed in less time, and consequently by -fewer hands. - -In illustration of the extraordinary increased productiveness induced -by the division of labour, I need only cite the well-known cases:-- - -“It is found,” says Mr. Mill, “that the productive power of labour is -increased by carrying the separation further and further; by breaking -down more and more every process of industry into parts, so that each -labourer shall confine himself to an even smaller number of simple -operations. And thus, in time, arise those remarkable cases of what is -called the division of labour, with which all readers on subjects of -this nature are familiar. Adam Smith’s illustration from pin-making, -though so well-known, is so much to the point, that I will venture -once more to transcribe it. ‘The business of making a pin is divided -into eighteen distinct operations. One man draws out the wire, another -straightens it, a third cuts it, a fourth points it, and a fifth grinds -it at the top for receiving the head; to make the head requires two -or three distinct operations; to put it on, is a peculiar business; -to whiten the pins is another; it is even a trade by itself to put -them into the paper. I have seen a small manufactory where ten men -only were employed, and where some of them, consequently, performed -two or three distinct operations. But though they were very poor, and -therefore but indifferently accommodated with the necessary machinery, -they could, when they exerted themselves, make among them about twelve -pounds of pins in a day. There are in a pound upwards of 4000 pins of a -middling size. - -“‘Those ten persons, therefore, could make among them upwards of 48,000 -pins in a day. Each person, therefore, making a tenth part of 48,000 -pins, might be considered as making 4800 pins in a day. But if they -had all wrought separately and independently, and without any of them -having been educated to this peculiar business, they certainly could -not each of them have made 20, perhaps not one pin in a day.’” - -M. Say furnishes a still stronger example of the effects of division -of labour, from a not very important branch of industry certainly, -the manufacture of playing cards. “It is said by those engaged in the -business, that each card, that is, a piece of pasteboard of the size of -the hand, before being ready for sale, does not undergo fewer than 70 -operations, every one of which might be the occupation of a distinct -class of workmen. And if there are not 70 classes of work-people in -each card manufactory, it is because the division of labour is not -carried so far as it might be; because the same workman is charged -with two, three, or four distinct operations. The influence of this -distribution of employment is immense. I have seen a card manufactory -where thirty workmen produced daily 15,500 cards, being above 500 cards -for each labourer; and it may be presumed that if each of these workmen -were obliged to perform all the operations himself, even supposing him -a practised hand, he would not, perhaps, complete two cards in a day; -and the 30 workmen, instead of 15,500 cards, would make only 60.” - -One great promoter of the decrease of manual labour is to be found in -the economy of labour from a very different cause to any I have pointed -out as tending to the increase of surplus hands and casual labour, -viz., to _the use of machinery_. - -In this country the use of machinery has economised the labour both -of man and horse to a greater extent than is known in any other land, -and that in nearly all departments of commerce or traffic. The total -estimated machine power in the kingdom is 600,000,000 of human beings, -and this has been all produced within the last century. In agriculture, -for example, the threshing of the corn was the peasant’s work of the -later autumn and of a great part of the winter, until towards the -latter part of the last century. The harvest was hardly considered -complete until the corn was threshed by the peasants. On the first -introduction of the threshing machines, they were demolished in many -places by the country labourers, whose rage was excited to find that -their winter’s work, instead of being regular, had become _casual_. - -But the use of these machines is now almost universal. It would, of -course, be the height of absurdity to say that threshing machines -could possibly increase the number of threshers, even as the reaping -machines cannot possibly increase the number of reapers; their effect -is rather to displace the greater number of labourers so engaged, and -hence indeed the “economy” of them. It is not known what number of -men were, at any time, employed in threshing corn. Their displacement -was gradual, and in some of the more remote parts of the provinces, -the flails of the threshers may be heard still, but if a threshing -machine--for they are of different power--do the work, as has been -stated, of six labourers, the economization or displacement of manual -labour is at once shown to be the economization and displacement of the -whole labour (for a season) of a country side; thus increasing surplus -hands. - -In other matters--in the unloading vessels by cranes, in _all_ branches -of manufactures, and even in such minor matters as the grinding of -coffee berries, and the cutting and splitting of wood for lucifer -matches, an immense amount of manual labour has been minimized, -economized, or displaced by steam machinery. On my inquiry into the -condition of the London sawyers, I found that the labour of 2000 men -had been displaced by the steam saw-mills of the metropolis alone. -At one of the largest builder’s I saw machines for making mortises -and tenons, for sticking mouldings, and, indeed, performing all -the operations of the carpenter--one such machine doing the work, -perhaps, of a hundred men. I asked the probable influence that such -an instrument was likely to have on the men? “Ruin them all,” was -the laconic reply of the superintendent of the business! Within the -last year casks have been made by machinery--a feat that the coopers -declared impossible. Wheels, also, have been lately produced by steam. -I need, however, as I have so recently touched upon the subject, do -no more than call attention to the information I have given (p. 240, -vol. ii.) concerning the use of machinery in lieu of human labour. -It is there shown that if the public street-sweeping were effected, -throughout the metropolis, by the machines, nearly 196 of the 275 -manual labourers, now scavaging for the parish contractors, would -be thrown out of work, and deprived of 7438_l._, out of their joint -earnings, in the year. - -It is the fashion of political economists to insist on the general -proposition that machinery increases the demand for labour, rather than -decreases it; when they write unguardedly, however, they invariably -betray a consciousness that the benefits of machinery to manual -labourers are not quite so invariable as they would otherwise make out. -Here, for instance, is a confession from the pamphlet on “the Employer -and Employed,” published by the Messrs. Chambers, gentlemen who surely -cannot be accused of being averse to economical doctrines. It is true -the pamphlet is intended to show the evils of strikes to working men, -but it likewise points out the evils of mechanical power to the same -class when applied to certain operations. - -“Strikes also lead to _the superseding of hand labour by machines_,” -says this little work. “In 1831, on the occasion of a strike at -Manchester, several of the capitalists, afraid of their business being -driven to other countries, had recourse to the celebrated machinists, -Messrs. Sharp and Co. of Manchester, requesting them to direct the -inventive talents of their partner, Mr. Roberts, to the construction -of a self-acting mule, in order to emancipate the trade from galling -slavery and impending ruin. Under assurances of the most liberal -encouragement in the adoption of his invention, Mr. Roberts suspended -his professional pursuits as an engineer, and set his fertile genius -to construct a spinning automaton. In the course of a few months he -produced a machine, called the ‘Self-acting Mule,’ which, in 1834, was -in operation in upwards of 60 factories; _doing the work of the head -spinners so much better than they could do it themselves, as to leave -them no chance against it_. - -“In his work on the ‘Philosophy of Manufactures,’ Dr. Ure observes on -the same subject--‘The elegant art of calico-printing, which embodies -in its operations the most elegant problems of chemistry, as well as -mechanics, had been for a long period the sport of foolish journeymen, -who turned the liberal means of comfort it furnished them into weapons -of warfare against their employers and the trade itself. They were, -in fact, by their delirious combinations, plotting to kill the goose -which laid the golden eggs of their industry, or to force it to fly -off to a foreign land, where it might live without molestation. In -the spirit of Egyptian task-masters, the operative printers dictated -to the manufacturers the number and quality of the apprentices to be -admitted into the trade, the hours of their own labour, and the wages -to be paid them. At length capitalists sought deliverance from this -intolerable bondage in the resources of science, and were speedily -reinstated in their legitimate dominion of the head over the inferior -members. The four-colour and five-colour machines, which now render -calico-printing an unerring and expeditious process, are mounted in -all great establishments. It was under the high-pressure of the same -despotic confederacies, that self-acting apparatus for executing the -dyeing and rinsing operations has been devised.’ - -“The croppers of the West Riding of Yorkshire, and the hecklers or -flax-dressers, can unfold ‘a tale of wo’ on this subject. Their -earnings exceeded those of most mechanics; but the frequency of -strikes among them, and the irregularities in their hours and times of -working, compelled masters to substitute machinery for their manual -labour. _Their trades, in consequence, have been in a great measure -superseded._” - -It must, then, be admitted that machinery, _in some cases at least_, -does displace manual labour, and so tend to produce a surplusage -of labourers, even as over-work, Sunday-work, scamping-work, -strapping-work, piece-work, minutely-divided work, &c., have the same -effect so long as the quantity of work to be done remains unaltered. -_The extensibility of the market_ is the one circumstance which -determines whether the economy of labour produced by these means is -a blessing or a curse to the nation. To apply mechanical power, the -division of labour, the large system of production, or indeed any -other means of enabling a less number of labourers to do the same -amount of work _when the quantity of work to be done is limited in -its nature_, as, for instance, the threshing of corn, the sawing of -wood, &c., is necessarily to make either paupers or criminals of those -who were previously honest independent men, living by the exercise of -their industry in that particular direction. Economize your labour -one-half, in connection with a particular article, and you must sell -twice the quantity of that article or displace a certain number of -the labourers; that is to say, suppose it requires 400 men to produce -4000 commodities in a given time, then, if you enable 200 men to -produce the same quantity in the same time, you must get rid of 8000 -commodities, or deprive a certain number of labourers of their ordinary -means of living. Indeed, the proposition is almost self-evident, though -generally ignored by social philosophers: economize your labour at a -greater rate than you expand your markets, and you must necessarily -increase your paupers and criminals in precisely the same ratio. “The -division of labour,” says Mr. Mill, following Adam Smith, “is limited -by the extent of the market. If by the separation of pin-making into -ten distinct employments 48,000 pins can be made in a day, this -separation will only be advisable if the number of accessible consumers -is such as to require every day something like 48,000 pins. If there is -a demand for only 25,000, the division of labour can be advantageously -carried but to the extent which will every day produce that smaller -number.” Again, as regards the large system of production, the same -authority says, “the possibility of substituting the large system of -production for the small depends, of course, on the extent of the -market. The large system can only be advantageous when a large amount -of business is to be done; it implies, therefore, either a populous and -flourishing community, or a great opening for exportation.” But these -are mere glimmerings of the broad incontrovertible principle, that _the -economization of labour at a greater rate than the expansion of the -markets, is necessarily the cause of surplus labour in a community_. - -The effect of machinery in depriving the families of agricultural -labourers of their ordinary sources of income is well established. -“Those countries,” writes Mr. Thornton, “in which the class of -agricultural labourers is most depressed, have all one thing in common. -Each of them was formerly the seat of a flourishing manufacture -carried on by the cottagers at their own homes, which has now decayed -or been withdrawn to other situations. Thus, in Buckinghamshire and -Bedfordshire, the wives and children of labouring men had formerly very -profitable occupation in making lace; during the last war a tolerable -lacemaker, working eight hours a day, could easily earn 10_s._ or -12_s._ a week; the profits of this employment have been since so much -reduced by the use of machinery, that a pillow lacemaker must now work -twelve hours daily to earn 2_s._ 6_d._ a week.” - - * * * * * - -The last of the conditions above cited, as causing the same or a -greater amount of work to be executed with a less quantity of labour, -is _the large system of production_. Mr. Babbage and Mr. Mill have -so well and fully pointed out “the economy of labour” effected in -this manner, that I cannot do better than quote from them upon this -subject:-- - -“Even when no additional subdivision of the work,” says Mr. Mill, -“would follow an enlargement of the operations, there will be good -economy in enlarging them to the point at which every person to -whom it is convenient to assign a special occupation will have full -employment in that occupation.” This point is well illustrated by Mr. -Babbage:--“If machines be kept working through the 24 hours” [which is -evidently the only economical mode of employing them], “it is necessary -that some person shall attend to admit the workmen at the time they -relieve each other; and whether the porter or other servant so employed -admit one person or twenty, his rest will be equally disturbed. It will -also be necessary occasionally to adjust or repair the machine; and -this can be done much better by a workman accustomed to machine-making -than by the person who uses it. Now, since the good performance and the -duration of machines depend, to a very great extent, upon correcting -every shake or imperfection in their parts as soon as they appear, the -prompt attention of a workman resident on the spot will considerably -reduce the expenditure arising from the wear and tear of the machinery. -But in the case of a single lace-frame, or a single loom, this would -be too expensive a plan. Here, then, arises another circumstance, -which tends to enlarge the extent of the factory. It ought to consist -of such a number of machines as shall occupy the whole time of one -workman in keeping them in order. If extended beyond that number the -same principle of economy would point out the necessity of doubling or -tripling the number of machines, in order to employ the whole time of -two or three skilful workmen. Where one portion of the workman’s labour -consists in the exertion of mere physical force, as in weaving, and in -many similar arts, it will soon occur to the manufacturer that, if that -part were executed by a steam-engine, the same man might, in the case -of weaving, attend to two or more looms at once; and, since we already -suppose that one or more operative engineers have been employed, the -number of looms may be so arranged that their time shall be fully -occupied in keeping the steam-engine and the looms in order. - -“Pursuing the same principles, the manufactory becomes gradually -so enlarged that the expense of lighting during the night amounts -to a considerable sum; and as there are already attached to the -establishment persons who are up all night, and can therefore -constantly attend to it, and also engineers to make and keep in -repair any machinery, the addition of an apparatus for making gas to -light the factory leads to a new extension, at the same time that it -contributes, by diminishing the expense of lighting and the risk of -accidents from fire, to reduce the cost of manufacturing. - -“Long before a factory has reached this extent it will have been found -necessary to establish an accountant’s department, with clerks to pay -the workmen, and to see that they arrive at their stated times; and -this department must be in communication with the agents who purchase -the raw produce, and with those who sell the manufactured article. It -will cost these clerks and accountants little more time and trouble -to pay a large number of workmen than a small number, to check the -accounts of large transactions than of small. If the business doubled -itself it would probably be necessary to increase, but certainly not -to double, the number either of accountants or of buying and selling -agents. _Every increase of business would enable the whole to be -carried on with a proportionally smaller amount of labour._ As a -general rule, the expenses of a business do not increase by any means -proportionally to the quantity of business. Let us take as an example -a set of operations which we are accustomed to see carried on by one -great establishment--that of the Post Office. - -“Suppose that the business, let us say only of the London letter-post, -instead of being centralised in a single concern, were divided among -five or six competing companies. Each of these would be obliged to -maintain almost as large an establishment as is now sufficient for the -whole. Since each must arrange for receiving and delivering letters -in all parts of the town, each must send letter-carriers into every -street, and almost every alley, and this, too, as many times in the -day as is now done by the Post Office, if the service is to be as -well performed. Each must have an office for receiving letters in -every neighbourhood, with all subsidiary arrangements for collecting -the letters from the different offices and re-distributing them. I -say nothing of the much greater number of superior officers who would -be required to check and control the subordinates, implying not only -a greater cost in salaries for such responsible officers, but the -necessity, perhaps, of being satisfied in many instances with an -inferior standard of qualification, and so failing in the object.” - -But this refers solely to the “large system of business” as applied -to purposes of manufacture and distribution. In connection with -agriculture there is the same saving of labour effected. “The large -farmer,” says Mr. Mill, “has some advantage in the article of -buildings. It does not cost so much to house a great number of cattle -in one building, as to lodge them equally well in several buildings. -There is also some advantage in implements. A small farmer is not so -likely to possess expensive instruments. But the principal agricultural -implements, even when of the best construction, are not expensive. It -may not answer to a small farmer to own a threshing machine for the -small quantity of corn he has to thresh; but there is no reason why -such a machine should not in every neighbourhood be owned in common, or -provided by some person to whom the others pay a consideration for its -use. The large farmer can make some saving in cost of carriage. There -is nearly as much trouble in carrying a small portion of produce to -market, as a much greater produce; in bringing home a small, as a much -larger quantity of manure, and articles of daily consumption. There is -also the greater cheapness of buying things in large quantities.” - -A short time ago I went into Buckinghamshire to look into the allotment -system. And, in one parish of 1800 acres, I found that some years ago -there were seventeen farmers who occupied, upon the average, 100 acres -each, and who, previous to the immigration of the Irish harvest-men, -_constantly_ employed six men a-piece, or, in the aggregate, upwards -of 100 hands. Now, however, the farmers in the same parish occupy to -the extent of 300 acres each, and respectively employ only six men _and -a few extra hands at harvest time_. Thus the number of hands employed -by this system has been decreased one-half. I learned, moreover, from -a clergyman there, who had resided in Wiltshire, that the same thing -was going on in that county also; that small farms were giving way to -large farms, and that at least half the labourers had been displaced. -The agricultural labourers, at the time of taking the last census, -were 1,500,000 in number; so that, if this system be generally carried -out, there must be 750,000 labourers and their families, or 3,000,000 -people, deprived of their living by it. - -Sir James Graham, in his evidence before the Committee on Criminal -Commitments, has given us some curious particulars as to the decrease -of the number of hands required for agricultural purposes, where the -large system of production is pursued in place of the small: he has -told us how many hands he was enabled to get rid of by these means, the -proportion of labour displaced, it will be seen, amounted to about 10 -per cent. of the labouring population. In answer to a question relative -to the increase of population in his district, he replied:-- - -“I have myself taken _very strong means to prevent it_, for it so -happens that my whole estate came out of lease in the year 1822, after -the currency of a lease of fourteen years; and by _consolidation of -farms, and the destruction of cottages, I have diminished, upon my own -property, the population to the extent of from 300 to 400 souls_.” - -“On how many acres?--On about 30,000 acres.” [This is at the rate of -one in every 100 acres]. - -“What was the whole extent of population?--It was under 4000 before I -reduced it. - -“What became of those 300 or 400?--The greater part of them, being -small tenants, were enabled to find farms on the estates of other -proprietors, who pursued the opposite course of subdividing their -estates for the purpose of obtaining higher nominal rents; _others -have become day labourers_, and as day labourers, I have reason to -know, they are more thriving than they were on my estate as small -farmers, subject to a high rent, which their want of capital seldom -enabled them to pay; two or three of these families went to America. - -“Have you any out of work?--None entirely out of work, some only -partially employed; but since the _dispersion of this large mass of -population_, the supply of labour has not much exceeded the demand, -for _whenever I removed a family, I pulled down the house_, and the -parochial jealousy respecting settlements is an ample check on the -influx of strangers.” - -Similar to the influence of the large system of production in its -displacement of labourers, as enabling a larger quantity of work to be -executed by one establishment with a smaller number of hands than would -be required were the amount of work to be divided into a number of -smaller establishments,--similar to this mode of economizing labour, is -that mode of work which, by altering the produce rather than the mode -of production, and by substituting an article that requires less labour -for one that required more, gets rid of a large quantity of labour, -and, consequently, adds to the surplusage of labourers. An instance of -this is in the substitution of pasturage for tillage. “_Plough less and -graze more_,” says Sir J. Graham, the great economist of labour, simply -because fewer people will be required to attend to the land. But this -plan of grazing instead of ploughing was adopted in this country some -centuries back, and with what effect to the labourers and the people -at large, the following extract from the work of Mr. Thornton, on -over-population, will show:-- - -“The extension of the woollen manufacture was raising the price of -wool; and the little attendance which sheep require was an additional -motive for causing sheep farming to be preferred to tillage. Arable -land, therefore, began to be converted into pasture; and the -seemingly-interminable corn fields, which, like those of Germany at -this day, probably extended for miles without having their even surface -broken by fences or any other visible boundaries, disappeared. After -being sown with grass they were surrounded and divided by inclosures, -to prevent the sheep from straying, and to do away with the necessity -of having shepherds always on the watch. By these changes the quantity -of work to be done upon a farm was exceedingly diminished, and most -of the servants, whom it had been usual to board and lodge in the -manor and farm-houses, were dismissed. This was not all. The married -farm-servants were ousted from their cottages, which were pulled down, -and their gardens and fields were annexed to the adjoining meadows. The -small farmers were treated in the same way, as their leases fell in, -_and were sent to join the daily increasing crowd of competitors for -work that was daily increasing in quantity_. - -“Even freeholders were in some instances ejected from their lands. This -social revolution had probably commenced even before the prosperity -of the peasantry had reached its climax; but in 1487 it attracted the -notice of Parliament, and an Act was passed to restrain its progress; -for already it was observed that inclosures were becoming ‘more -frequent, whereby arable land, _which could not be manured without -people and families, was turned into pasture, which was easily rid by -a few herdsmen_;’ and that ‘tenancies for years, lives, and at will, -whereupon most of the yeomanry lived, were turned into demesnes’[35]. -In 1533[36], an Act was passed strongly condemning the practice of -‘accumulating’ farms, which it was declared had reduced ‘a marvellous -multitude’ of the people to poverty and misery, and left them no -alternative but to steal, or to die ‘pitifully’ of cold and hunger. In -this Act it was stated that single farms might be found with flocks of -from 10,000 to 20,000 sheep upon them; and it was ordained that no man -should keep more than 2000 sheep, except upon his own land, or rent -more than two farms. - -“Two years later it was enacted that the king should have a moiety of -the profits of land converted (subsequently to a date specified) from -tillage to pastures, until a suitable house was erected, and the land -was restored to tillage. In 1552, a law[37] was made which required -that on all estates as large a quantity of land as had been kept in -tillage for four years together at any time since the accession of -Henry VIII., should be so continued in tillage. But these, and many -subsequent enactments of the same kind, had not the smallest effect in -checking the consolidation of farms. We find Roger Ascham, in Queen -Elizabeth’s reign, lamenting the dispersion of families, the ruin of -houses, the breaking up and destruction of ‘the noble yeomanry, the -honour and strength of England.’ Harrison also speaks of towns pulled -down for sheep-walks; ‘and of the tenements that had fallen either down -or into the lord’s hands;’ or had been ‘brought and united together by -other men, so that in some one manor, seventeen, eighteen, or twenty -houses were shrunk.’[38] - -“‘Where have been a great many householders and inhabitants,’ says -Bishop Latimer, ‘there is now but a shepherd and his dog.’[39] And in a -curious tract, published in 1581, by one William Stafford, a husbandman -is made to exclaim, ‘Marry, these inclosures do and undo us all, for -they make us pay dearer for our land that we occupy, and causeth that -we can have no land to put to tillage; all is taken up for pasture, -either for sheep or for grazing of cattle, insomuch that I have known -of late a dozen ploughs, within less compass than six miles about me, -laid down within this seven years; and where threescore persons or -upwards had their livings, now one man, with his cattle, hath all. -Those sheep is the cause of all our mischief, for they have driven -husbandry out of the country, by which was increased before all kinds -of victuals, and now altogether sheep, sheep, sheep.’[40] While numbers -of persons were thus continually driven from their homes, and deprived -of their means of livelihood, we need not be at a loss to account for -the increase of vagrancy, without ascribing it to the increase of -population.” - -As an instance, within our time, of the same mode of causing a -surplusage of labourers, and so adding to the quantity of casual labour -in the kingdom, viz., by the extension of pasturage and consequent -diminution of tillage, we may cite the “clearances,” as they were -called, which took place, some few years back, in the Highlands of -Scotland. “It is only within the last few years,” says the author -above quoted, “that the strathes and glens of Sutherland have been -_cleared of their inhabitants, and that the whole country has been -converted into one immense sheepwalk_, over which the traveller may -proceed for 40 miles together without seeing a tree or a stone wall, or -anything, but a heath dotted with sheep and lambs[41].... The example -of Sutherland is imitated in the neighbouring counties. During the -last four years _some hundreds of families_ have been ‘weeded’ out of -Ross-shire, and nearly 400 more have received notice to quit next year. -Similar notice has been given to 34 families in Cromarty, and only the -other day eighteen families, who were living in peace and comfort, in -Glencalvie, in Ross-shire, were expelled from the farms occupied for -ages by themselves and their forefathers, to make room for sheep.” And -still we are told to “_plough less and graze more!_” - - * * * * * - -We now come to the last-mentioned of the circumstances inducing a -surplusage of labourers, and, consequently, augmenting the amount of -casual labour throughout the kingdom, viz., by _altering the mode of -hiring the labourers_. At page 236 of the present volume, I have said, -in connection with this part of the subject,-- - -“Formerly the mode of hiring farm-labourers was by the year, so that -the employer was bound to maintain the men when unemployed. But now -weekly hirelings and even journey-work, or hiring by the day, prevail, -and the labourers being paid mere subsistence-money only when wanted -are necessitated to become either paupers or thieves when their -services are no longer required. It is, moreover, this change from -yearly to weekly and daily hirings, and the consequent discarding of -men when no longer wanted, that has partly caused the immense mass -of surplus labourers, who are continually vagabondizing through the -country, begging or stealing as they go--men for whom there is but -some two or three weeks’ work (harvesting, hop-picking, and the like) -throughout the year.” - -Blackstone, in treating of the laws relating to master and servant (the -greater part of the farm labourers or farm servants, as they were then -called, being included under the latter head), tells us at page 425 of -his first volume-- - -“The first sort of servants, acknowledged by the laws of England, are -MENIAL SERVANTS; so called from being _inter mœnia_ or domestic. The -contract between them and their masters arises upon the hiring. If -the hiring be generally, without any particular _time limited_, the -law construes it to be a _hiring for a year_ (Co. Lit. 42); upon a -principle of natural equity, that the servant shall serve, and the -master maintain him, throughout all the revolutions of the respective -seasons, as well when _there is work to be_ done, as _when there is -not_.” - -Mr. Thornton says, “until recently it had been common for farm -servants, even when married and living in their own cottages, to take -their meals with their master; and, what was of more consequence, in -every farm-house, many unmarried servants, of both sexes, were lodged, -as well as boarded. The latter, therefore, even if ill paid, might -be tolerably housed and fed, and many of them fared, no doubt, much -better than they could have done if they had been left to provide for -themselves, with treble their actual wages.” - -Formerly throughout the kingdom--and it is a custom _still_ prevalent -in some parts, more especially in the north--single men and women -seeking engagements as farm-servants, congregated at what were called -the “Hirings,” held usually on the three successive market days, -which were nearest to May-day and Martinmas-day. The hiring was -thus at two periods of the year, but the engagement was usually for -the twelvemonth. By the concurrent consent, however, of master and -servant, when the hiring took place, either side might terminate it at -the expiration of the six months, by giving due notice; or a further -hiring for a second twelvemonth could be legally effected without the -necessity of again going to the hirings. The servants, even before -their term of service had expired, could attend a hiring (generally -held under the authority of the town’s charter) as a matter of right; -the master and mistress having no authority to prevent them. The Market -Cross was the central point for the holding of the hirings, and the -men and women, the latter usually the most numerous, stood in rows -around the cross. The terms being settled, the master or mistress gave -the servant “a piece of money,” known as a “god’s penny” (the “handsel -penny”), the offer and acceptance of this god’s penny being a legal -ratification of the agreement, without any other step. In the old times -such engagements had almost always (as shown in the term “God’s penny”) -a character of religious obligation. At the earliest period, the -hirings were held in the church-yards; afterwards by the Market Cross. - -I have spoken of this matter more in the past than the present tense, -for the system is greatly changed as regards the male farm-servant, -though little as regards the female. Now the male farm-labourers, -instead of being hired for a specific term, are more generally hired -by week, by job, or by day; indeed, even “half-a-day’s” work is known. -At one period it was merely the married country labourers, residing -in their own cottages, who were temporarily engaged, but it is now -the general body, married and unmarried, old and young, with a few -exceptions. Formerly the farmer was bound to find work for six or -twelve months (for both terms existed) for his hired labourers. If -the land did not supply it, still the man must be maintained, and be -paid his full wages when due. By such a provision, the labour and wage -of the hired husbandman were regular and rarely _casual_; but this -arrangement is now seldom entered into, and the hired husbandman’s -labour is consequently generally casual and rarely regular. This -principle of hiring labourers only for so long as they are wanted, as -contradistinguished from the “_principle of natural equity_,” spoken -of by Blackstone, which requires that “the servant shall serve and the -master maintain him _throughout all the revolutions of the respective -seasons, as well when there is work to be done as when there is not_,” -has been the cause, perhaps, of more casual labour and more pauperism -and crime, in this country, than, perhaps, any other of the antecedents -before mentioned. The harvest is now collected solely by casual -labourers, by a horde of squalid immigrants, or the tribe of natural -and forced vagabonds who are continually begging or stealing their way -throughout the country; our hops are picked, our fruit and vegetables -gathered by the same precarious bands--wretches who, perhaps, obtain -some three months’ harvest labour in the course of the year. The ships -at our several ports are discharged by the same “_casual hands_,” who -may be seen at our docks scrambling like hounds for the occasional bit -of bread that is vouchsafed to them; there numbers loiter throughout -the day, even on the chance of _an hour’s employment_; for the term of -hiring has been cut down to the finest possible limits, so that the -labourer may not be paid for even a second longer than he is wanted. -And since he gets only bare subsistence money when employed, “What,” we -should ask ourselves, “_must_ be his lot when unemployed?” - - * * * * * - -I now come to consider the circumstances causing an undue increase -of the labourers in a country. Thus far we have proceeded on the -assumption that both the quantity of work to be done and the number -of hands to do it remained stationary, and we have seen that by the -mere alteration of the time, rate, and mode of working, a vast amount -of surplus, and, consequently, casual labour may be induced in a -community. We have now to ascertain how, still assuming the quantity of -work to remain unaltered, the same effect may be brought about by an -undue _increase of the number of labourers_. - -There are many means by which the number of labourers may be increased -besides that of a positive increase of the people. These are-- - -1. By the undue increase of apprentices. - -2. By drafting into the ranks of labour those who should be otherwise -engaged, as women and children. - -3. By the importation of labourers from abroad. - -4. By the migration of country labourers to towns, and so overcrowding -the market in the cities. - -5. By the depression of other trades. - -6. By the undue increase of the people themselves. - -Each and every of the first-mentioned causes are as effective a -circumstance for the promotion of surplus labour, as even the positive -extension of the population of the country. - -Let me begin with the undue increase of a trade by means of -_apprentices_. - -This is, perhaps, one of the chief aids to the cheap system. For it -is principally by apprentice labour that the better masters, as well -as workmen, are undersold, and the skilled labourer consequently -depressed to the level of the unskilled. But the great evil is, that -the cheapening of goods by this means causes an undue increase in the -trade. The apprentices grow up and become labourers, and so the trade -is glutted with workmen, and casual labour is the consequence. - -This apprentice system is the great bane of the printer’s trade. -Country printers take an undue number of boys to help them cheap; -these lads grow up, and then, finding wages in the provinces depressed -through this system of apprentice labour, they flock to the towns, and -so tend to glut the labour market, and consequently to increase the -number of casual hands. - -One cause of the increased surplus and casual labour in such trades -as dressing-case, work-box, writing-desk-making and other things in -the fancy cabinet trade (among the worst trades even in Spitalfields -and Bethnal Green), shoemaking, and especially of women and children’s -shoes, is the taking of many apprentices by small masters (supplying -the great warehouses). As journey-work is all but unknown in the slop -fancy cabinet trade, an apprentice, when he has “served his time,” -must start on his own account in the same wretched way of business, or -become a casual labourer in some unskilled avocation, and this is one -way in which the hands surely, although gradually, increase beyond the -demand. It is the same with the general slop cabinet-maker’s trade in -the same parts. The small masters supply the “slaughterhouses,” the -linen-drapers, &c., who sell cheap furniture; they work in the quickest -and most scamping manner, and do more work (which is nearly all done -on the chance of sale), as they must confine themselves to one branch. -The slop chair-makers cannot make tables, nor the slop table-makers, -chairs; nor the cheffonier and drawer-makers, bedsteads; for they have -not been taught. Even if they knew the method, and _could_ accomplish -other work, the want of practice would compel them to do it slowly, -and the slop mechanic can never afford to work slowly. Such classes -of little masters, then, to meet the demand for low-priced furniture, -rear their sons to the business, and frequently take apprentices, to -whom they pay small amounts. The hands so trained (as in the former -instances) are not skilled enough to work for the honourable trade, -so that they can only adopt the course pursued by their parents, or -masters, before them. Hence a rapid, although again gradual, increase -of surplus hands; or hence a resort to some unskilled labour, to be -wrought casually. This happens too, but in a smaller degree, in trades -which are not slop, from the same cause. Concerning the _apprentice -system_ in the boot and shoe trade, when making my inquiries into the -condition of the London workmen, I received the following statements:-- - -“My employer had seven apprentices when I was with him; of these, two -were parish apprentices (I was one), and the other five from the Refuge -for the Destitute, at Hoxton. With each Refuge boy he got 5_l._ and -three suits of clothes, and a kit (tools). With the parish boys of -Covent-garden and St. Andrew’s, Holborn, he got 5_l._ and two suits -of clothes, reckoning what the boy wore as one. My employer was a -journeyman, and by having all us boys he was able to get up work very -cheap, though he received good wages for it. We boys had no allowance -in money, only board, lodging, and clothing. The board was middling, -the lodging was too, and there was nothing to complain about in the -clothing. He was severe in the way of flogging. I ran away six times -myself, but was forced to go back again, as I had no money and no -friend in the world. When I first ran away I complained to Mr. ---- the -magistrate, and he was going to give me six weeks. He said it would do -me good; but Mr. ---- interfered, and I was let go. I don’t know what -he was going to give me six weeks for, unless it was for having a black -eye that my master had given me with the stirrup. Of the seven only -one served his time out. He let me off two years before my time was -up, as we couldn’t agree. The mischief of taking so many apprentices -is this:--The master gets money with them from the parish, and can -feed them much as he likes as to quality and quantity; and if they run -away soon, the master’s none the worse, for he’s got the money; and so -boys are sent out to turn vagrants when they run away, as such boys -have no friends. Of us seven boys (at the wages our employer got) one -could earn 19_s._, another 15_s._, another 12_s._, another 10_s._, -and the rest not less than 8_s._ each, for all worked sixteen hours -a day--that’s 4_l._ 8_s._ a week for the seven, or 225_l._ 10_s._ a -year. You must recollect I reckon this on nearly the best wages in -the women’s trade. My employer you may call a sweater, and he made -money fast, though he drank a good deal. We seldom saw him when he was -drunk; but he _did_ pitch into us when he was getting sober. Look how -easily such a man with apprentices can undersell others when he wants -to work as cheap as possible for the great slop warehouses. They serve -haberdashers so cheap that oft enough it’s starvation wages for the -same shops.” - -Akin to the system of using a large number of apprentices is that of -_employing boys and girls_ to displace the work of men, at the less -laborious parts of the trade. - -“It is probable,” said a working shoemaker to me, “that, independent -of apprentices, 200 additional hands are added to our already -over-burdened trade yearly. Sewing boys soon learn the use of the -knife. Plenty of poor men will offer to finish them for a pound and a -month’s work; and men, for a few shillings and a few weeks’ work, will -teach other boys to sew. There are many of the wives of chamber-masters -teach girls entirely to make children’s work for a pound and a few -months’ work, and there are many in Bethnal-green who have learnt the -business in this way. These teach some other members of their families, -and then actually set up in business in opposition to those who taught -them, and in cutting offer their work for sale at a much lower rate of -profit; and shopkeepers in town and country, having circulars sent to -solicit custom, will have their goods from a warehouse that will serve -them cheapest; then the warehouseman will have them cheap from the -manufacturer; and he in his turn cuts down the wages of the workpeople, -who fear to refuse offers at the warehouse price, knowing the low rate -at which chamber-masters will serve the warehouse.” - -As in all trades where lowness of wages is the rule, the boy system of -labour prevails among the cheap cabinet-workers. It prevails, however, -among the garret-masters, by very many of them having one, two, three -or four youths to help them, and so the number of boys thus employed -through the whole trade is considerable. This refers principally to -the general cabinet trade. In the fancy trade the number is greater, -as the boys’ labour is more readily available; but in this trade the -greatest number of apprentices is employed by such warehousemen as -are manufacturers, as some at the East end are, or rather by the men -that they constantly keep at work. Of these men, one has now eight and -another fourteen boys in his service, some apprenticed, some merely -“engaged” and dischargeable at pleasure. A sharp boy, in six or eight -months, becomes “handy;” but four out of five of the workmen thus -brought up can do nothing well but their own particular branch, and -that only well as far as celerity in production is considered. - -It is these boys who are put to make, or as a master of the better -class distinguished to me, not to _make_ but to put together, ladies’ -work-boxes at 5_d._ a piece, the boy receiving 2-1/2_d._ a box. -‘Such boxes,’ said another workman, ‘are nailed together; there’s no -dove-tailing, nothing of what I call _work_, or workmanship, as you -say, about them, but the deal’s nailed together, and the veneer’s -dabbed on, and if the deal’s covered, why the thing passes. The worst -of it is, that people don’t understand either good work or good wood. -Polish them up and they look well. Besides--and that’s another bad -thing, for it encourages bad work--there’s no stress on a lady’s -work-box, as on a chair or a sofa, and so bad work lasts far too long, -though not half so long as good; in solids especially, if not in -veneers.’ - -To such a pitch is this demand for children’s labour carried, that -there is a market in Bethnal-green, where boys and girls stand twice -a week to be hired as binders and sewers. Hence it will be easily -understood that it is impossible for the skilled and grown artizan -to compete with the labour of mere children, who are thus literally -brought into the market to undersell him! - -Concerning this market for boys and girls, in Bethnal-green, I -received, during my inquiries into the boot and shoe trade, the -following statements from shopkeepers on the spot:-- - -“Mr. H---- has lived there sixteen years. The market-days are Monday -and Tuesday mornings, from seven to nine. The ages of persons who -assemble there vary from ten to twenty, and they are often of the worst -character, and a decided nuisance to the inhabitants. A great many of -both sexes congregate together, and most market days there are three -females to one male. They consist of sewing boys, shoe-binders, winders -for weavers, and girls for all kinds of slop needlework, girls for -domestic work, nursing children, &c. No one can testify, for a fact, -that they (the females) are prostitutes; but, by their general conduct, -they are fit for anything. The market, some years since, was held -at the top of Abbey-street; but, on account of the nuisance, it was -removed to the other end of Abbey-street. When the schools were built, -the nuisance became so intolerable that it was removed to a railway -arch in White-street, Bethnal-green. There are two policemen on market -mornings to keep order, but my informant says they require four to -maintain anything like subjection.” - - * * * * * - -But _family work, or the conjoint labour of a workman’s wife and -children_, is an equally extensive cause of surplus and casual labour. - -A small master, working, perhaps, upon goods to be supplied at the -lowest rates to wholesale warehousemen, will often contribute to this -result by the way in which he brings up his children. It is less -expensive to him to teach them his own business, and he may even reap -a profit from their labour, than to have them brought up to some -other calling. I met with an instance of this in an inquiry among the -toy-makers. A maker of common toys brought up five children to his own -trade, for boys and girls can be made useful in such labour at an early -age. His business fell off rapidly, which he attributed to the great -and numerous packages of cheap toys imported from Germany, Holland, and -France, after the lowering of the duty by Sir Robert Peel’s tariff. -The chief profit to the toy-maker was derived from the labour, as the -material was of trifling cost. He found, on the change in his trade, -that he could not employ all his family. His fellow tradesmen, he said, -were in the same predicament; and thus surplus hands were created, so -leading to casualty in labour. - -“The system which has, I believe, the worst effect on the women’s trade -in the boot and shoe business throughout England is,” I said in the -_Morning Chronicle_, “chamber-mastering. There are between 300 and -400 chamber-masters. Commonly the man has a wife, and three or four -children, ten years old or upwards. The wife cuts out the work for -the binders, the husband does the knife-work, the children sew with -uncommon rapidity. The husband, when the work is finished at night, -goes out with it, though wet and cold, and perhaps hungry--his wife -and children waiting his return. He returns sometimes, having sold his -work at cost price, or not cleared 1_s._ 6_d._ for the day’s labour of -himself and family. In the winter, by this means, the shopkeepers and -warehouses can take the advantage of the chamber-master, buying the -work at their own price. By this means haberdashers’ shops are supplied -with boots, shoes, and slippers; they can sell women’s boots at 1_s._ -9_d._ per pair; shoes, 1_s._ 3_d._ per pair; children’s, 6_d._, 8_d._, -and 9_d._ per pair, getting a good profit, having bought them of the -poor chamber-master for almost nothing, and he glad to sell them at any -price, late at night, his children wanting bread, and he having walked -about for hours, in vain trying to get a fair price for them; thus, -women and children labour as well as husbands and fathers, and, with -their combined labours, they only obtain a miserable living.” - -The labour of the wife, and indeed the whole family--family work, as -it is called--is attended with the same evil to a trade, introducing -a large supply of fresh hands to the labour market, and so tending to -glut with workpeople each trade into which they are introduced, and -thus to increase the casual labour, and decrease the earnings of the -whole. - -“The only means of escape from the inevitable poverty,” I said in the -same letters, “which sooner or later overwhelms those in connection -with the cheap shoe trade, seems to the workmen to be by the employment -of his whole family as soon as his children are able to be put to the -trade--and yet this only increases the very depression that he seeks to -avoid. I give the statement of such a man residing in the suburbs of -London, and working with three girls to help him:-- - -“‘I have known the business,’ he said, ‘many years, but was not brought -up to it. I took it up because my wife’s father was in the trade, and -taught me. I was a weaver originally, but it is a bad business, and I -have been in this trade seventeen years. Then I had only my wife and -myself able to work. At that time my wife and I, by hard work, could -earn 1_l._ a week; on the same work we could not now earn 12_s._ a -week. As soon as the children grew old enough the falling off in the -wages compelled us to put them to work one by one--as soon as a child -could make threads. One began to do that between eight and nine. I have -had a large family, and with very hard work too. We have had to lie -on straw oft enough. Now, three daughters, my wife, and myself work -together, in chamber-mastering; the whole of us may earn, one week with -another, 28_s._ a week, and out of that I have eight to support. Out of -that 28_s._ I have to pay for grindery and candles, which cost me 1_s._ -a week the year through. I now make children’s shoes for the wholesale -houses and anybody. About two years ago I travelled from Thomas-street, -Bethnal-green, to Oxford-street, “on the hawk.” I then positively had -nothing in my inside, and in Holborn I had to lean against a house, -through weakness from hunger. I was compelled, as I could sell nothing -at that end of the town, to walk down to Whitechapel at ten at night. -I went into a shop near Mile-end turnpike, and the same articles -(children’s patent leather shoes) that I received 8_s._ a dozen for -from the wholesale houses, I was compelled to sell to the shopkeeper -for 6_s._ 6_d._ This is a very frequent case--very frequent--with -persons circumstanced as I am, and so trade is injured and only some -hard man gains by it.’” - -Here is the statement of a worker at “fancy cabinet” work on the same -subject:-- - -“The most on us has got large families. We put the children to work as -soon as we can. My little girl began about six, but about eight or nine -is the usual age.” _“Oh, poor little things,” said the wife, “they are -obliged to begin the very minute they can use their fingers at all.”_ -“The most of the cabinet-makers of the East end have from five to six -in family, and they are generally all at work for them. The small -masters mostly marry when they are turned of 20. You see our trade’s -coming to such a pass, that unless a man has children to help him he -can’t live at all. _I’ve worked more than a month together, and the -longest night’s rest I’ve had has been an hour and a quarter; aye, and -I’ve been up three nights a week besides._ I’ve had my children lying -ill, and been obliged to wait on them into the bargain. You see, we -couldn’t live if it wasn’t for the labour of our children, though it -makes ’em--poor little things!--old people long afore they are growed -up.” - -“Why, I stood at this bench,” said the wife, “with my child, only ten -years of age, from four o’clock on Friday morning till ten minutes -past seven in the evening, without a bit to eat or drink. I never sat -down a minute from the time I began till I finished my work, and then -I went out to sell what I had done. I walked all the way from here -[Shoreditch] down to the Lowther Arcade, to get rid of the articles.” -_Here she burst out in a violent flood of tears, saying, “Oh, sir, it -is hard to be obliged to labour from morning till night as we do, all -of us, little ones and all, and yet not be able to live by it either.”_ - -“And you see the worst of it is, this here children’s labour is of such -value now in our trade, that there’s more brought into the business -every year, so that it’s really for all the world _like breeding -slaves_. Without my children I don’t know how we should be able to get -along.” “There’s that little thing,” said the man, pointing to the girl -ten years of age before alluded to, as she sat at the edge of the bed, -“why she works regularly every day from six in the morning till ten at -night. She never goes to school. We can’t spare her. There’s schools -enough about here for a penny a week, but we could not afford to keep -her without working. If I’d ten more children I should be obliged to -employ them all the same way, and there’s hundreds and thousands of -children now slaving at this business. There’s the M----’s; they have -a family of eight, and the youngest to the oldest of all works at the -bench; and the oldest ain’t fourteen. I’m sure, of the 2500 small -masters in the cabinet line, you may safely say that 2000 of them, at -the very least, has from five to six in family, _and that’s upwards of_ -12,000 _children that’s been put to the trade since prices has come -down_. Twenty years ago I don’t think there was a child at work in our -business; and I am sure there is not a small master now whose whole -family doesn’t assist him. But what I want to know is, what’s to become -of the 12,000 children when they’re growed up, and come regular into -the trade? Here are all my young ones growing up without being taught -anything but a business that I know they must starve at.” - -In answer to my inquiry as to what dependence he had in case of -sickness, “Oh, bless you,” he said, “there’s nothing but the parish -for us. I _did_ belong to a Benefit Society about four years ago, but -I couldn’t keep up my payments any longer. I was in the society above -five-and-twenty year, and then was obliged to leave it after all. I -don’t know of one as belongs to any Friendly Society, and I don’t think -there is a man as can afford it in our trade now. They must all go to -the workhouse when they’re sick or old.” - -The following is from a journeyman tailor, concerning the employment of -women in his trade:-- - -“When I first began working at this branch, there were but very few -females employed in it: a few white waistcoats were given out to -them, under the idea that women would make them cleaner than men--and -so indeed they can. But since the last five years the sweaters have -employed females upon cloth, silk, and satin waistcoats as well, and -before that time the idea of a woman making a cloth waistcoat would -have been scouted. But since the increase of the puffing and the -sweating system, masters and sweaters have sought everywhere for such -hands as would do the work below the regular ones. Hence the wife has -been made to compete with the husband, and the daughter with the wife: -they all learn the waistcoat business, and must all get a living. If -the man will not reduce the price of his labour to that of the female, -why he must remain unemployed; and if the full-grown woman will not -take the work at the same price as the young girl, why she must remain -without any. The female hands, I can confidently state, have been -sought out and introduced to the business by the sweaters, from a -desire on their part continually to ferret out hands who will do the -work cheaper than others. The effect that this continual reduction has -had upon me is this: Before the year 1844 I could live comfortably, -and keep my wife and children (I had five in family) by my own labour. -My wife then attended to her domestic and family duties; but since -that time, owing to the reduction in prices, she has been compelled -to resort to her needle, as well as myself, for her living.” [On the -table was a bundle of crape and bombazine ready to be made up into -a dress.] “I cannot afford now to let her remain idle--that is, if I -wish to live, and keep my children out of the streets, and pay my way. -My wife’s earnings are, upon an average, 8_s._ per week. She makes -dresses. I never would teach her to make waistcoats, because I knew -the introduction of female hands had been the ruin of my trade. With -the labour of myself and wife now I can only earn 32_s._ a week, and -six years ago I could make my 36_s._ If I had a daughter I should be -obliged to make her work as well, and then probably, with the labour -of the three of us, we could make up at the week’s end as much money, -as, up to 1844, I could get by my own single hands. My wife, since she -took to dressmaking, has become sickly from over-exertion. Her work, -and her domestic and family duties altogether, are too much for her. -Last night I was up all night with her, and was compelled to call in a -female to attend her as well. The over-exertion now necessary for us to -maintain a decent appearance, has so ruined her constitution that she -is not the same woman as she was. In fact, ill as she is, she has been -compelled to rise from her bed to finish a mourning-dress against time, -and I myself have been obliged to give her a helping-hand, and turn to -at women’s work in the same manner as the women are turning to at men’s -work.” - -“The cause of the serious decrease in our trade,” said another tailor -to me, “is the employment given to workmen at their own homes; or, in -other words, to the ‘sweaters.’ The sweater is the greatest evil to -us; as the sweating system increases the number of hands to an almost -incredible extent--wives, sons, daughters, and extra women, all working -‘long days’--that is, labouring from sixteen to eighteen hours per day, -and Sundays as well. I date the decrease in the wages of the workman -from the introduction of piece-work and giving out garments to be made -off the premises of the master; for the effect of this was, that the -workman making the garment, knowing that the master could not tell -whom he got to do his work for him, employed women and children to -help him, and paid them little or nothing for their labour. This was -the beginning of the sweating system. The workmen gradually became -transformed from journeymen into ‘middlemen,’ living by the labour of -others. Employers soon began to find that they could get garments made -at a less sum than the regular price, and those tradesmen who were -anxious to force their trade, by underselling their more honourable -neighbours, readily availed themselves of this means of obtaining cheap -labour. The consequence was, that the sweater sought out where he could -get the work done the cheapest, and so introduced a fresh stock of -hands into the trade. Female labour, of course, could be had cheaper -than male, and the sweater readily availed himself of the services of -women on that account. Hence the males who had formerly been employed -upon the garments were thrown out of work by the females, and obliged -to remain unemployed, unless they would reduce the price of their work -to that of the women. It cannot, therefore, be said that the reduction -of prices originally arose from there having been more workmen than -there was work for them to do. There was no superabundance of hands -until female labour was generally introduced--and even if the workmen -had increased 25 per cent. more than what they were twenty years back, -still that extra number of hands would be required now to make the -same number of garments, owing to the work put into each article being -at least one-fourth more than formerly. So far from the trade being -over-stocked with male hands, if the work were confined to the men or -the masters’ premises, there would not be sufficient hands to do the -whole.” - -According to the last Census (1841, G.B.), out of a population of -18,720,000 the proportions of the people occupied and unoccupied were -as follows:-- - - Occupied 7,800,000 - Unoccupied (including women and children) 10,920,000 - -Of those who were occupied the following were the proportions:-- - - Engaged in productive employments[42] 5,350,000 - Engaged in non-productive employments 2,450,000 - -Of those who were engaged in productive employments, the proportion (in -round numbers) ran as follows:-- - - Men 3,785,000 - Women 660,000 - Boys and girls 905,000 - -Here, then, we find nearly one-fifth, or 20 per cent., of our producers -to be boys and girls, and upwards of 10 per cent. to be women. Such -was the state of things in 1841. In order to judge of the possible -and probable condition of the labour market of the country, if this -introduction of women and children into the ranks of the labourers be -persisted in, let us see what were the proportions of the 10,920,000 -men, women, and children who ten years ago still remained unoccupied -among us. The ratio was as follows:-- - - Men 275,000 - Women 3,570,000 - Boys and girls 7,075,000 - -Here the unoccupied men are about 5 per cent. of the whole, the -children nearly two-thirds, and the wives about one-third. Now it -appears that out of say 19,000,000 people, 8,000,000 were, in 1841, -occupied, and by far the greater number, 11,000,000, unoccupied. - -Who were the remaining eleven millions, and what were they doing? They, -of course, consisted principally of the unemployed wives and children -of the eight millions of people before specified, three millions and a -half of the number being females of twenty years of age and upwards, -and seven millions being children of both sexes under twenty. Of these -children, four millions, according to the “age abstract,” were under -ten years, so that we may fairly assume that, at the time of taking -the last census, _there were very nearly seven millions of wives and -children of a workable age still unoccupied_. Let us suppose, then, -that these seven millions of people are brought in competition with the -five million producers. What is to be the consequence? If the labour -market be overstocked at present with only five millions of people -working for the support of nineteen millions (I speak according to the -Census of 1841), what would it be if another seven millions were to be -dragged into it? And if wages are low now, and employment is precarious -on account of this, what will not both work and pay sink to when the -number is again increased, and the people clamouring for employment are -at least treble what they are at present? When the wife has been taught -to compete for work with the husband, and son and daughter to undersell -their own father, what will be the state of our labour market then? - - * * * * * - -But the labour of wives, and children, and apprentices, is not the -only means of glutting a particular trade with hands. There is another -system becoming every day more popular with our enterprising tradesmen, -and this is the _importation of foreign labourers_. In the cheap -tailoring this is made a regular practice. Cheap labour is regularly -imported, not only from Ireland (the wives of sweaters making visits -to the Emerald Isle for the express purpose), but small armies of -working tailors, ready to receive the lowest pittance, are continually -being shipped into this country. That this is no exaggeration let the -following statement prove:-- - -“I am a native of Pesth, having left Hungary about eight years ago. -By the custom of the country I was compelled to travel three years in -foreign parts, before I could settle in my native place. I went to -Paris, after travelling about in the different countries of Germany. -I stayed in Paris about two years. My father’s wish was that I should -visit England, and I came to London in June, 1847. I first worked for -a West end show shop--not _directly_ for them--but through the person -who is their middleman getting work done at what rates he could for the -firm, and obtaining the prices they allowed for making the garments. -I once worked four days and a half for him, finding my own trimmings, -&c., for 9_s._ For this my employer would receive 12_s._ 6_d._ He then -employed 190 hands; he _has_ employed 300. Many of those so employed -set their wives, children, and others to work, some employing as many -as five hands this way. The middleman keeps his carriage, and will give -fifty guineas for a horse. I became unable to work from a pain in my -back, from long sitting at my occupation. The doctor told me not to sit -much, and so, as a countryman of mine was doing the same, I employed -hands, making the best I could of their labour. I have now four young -women (all Irish girls) so employed. Last week one of them received -4_s._, another 4_s._ 2_d._, the other two 5_s._ each. They find their -board and lodging, but I find them a place to work in, a small room, -the rent of which I share with another tailor, who works on his own -account. There are not so many Jews come over from Hungary or Germany -as from Poland. The law of travelling three years brings over many, -but not more than it did. The revolutions have brought numbers this -year and last. They are Jew tailors flying from Russian and Prussian -Poland to avoid the conscription. I never knew any of these Jews go -back again. _There is a constant communication among the Jews, and -when their friends in Poland, and other places, learn they are safe in -England, and in work and out of trouble, they come over too. I worked -as a journeyman in Pesth, and got_ 2_s._ 6_d. a week, my board and -washing, and lodging, for my labour._ We lived well, everything being -so cheap. The Jews come in the greatest number about Easter. They try -to work their way here, most of them. Some save money here, but they -never go back; if they leave England it is to go to America.” - - * * * * * - -The labour market of a particular place, however, comes to be -overstocked with hands, not only from the introduction of an inordinate -number of apprentices and women and children into the trade, as well -as the importation of workmen from abroad, but the same effect is -produced by _the migration of country labourers to towns_. This, -as I have before said, is specially the case in the printer’s and -carpenter’s trades, where the cheap provincial work is executed chiefly -by apprentices, who, when their time is up, flock to the principal -towns, in the hopes of getting better wages than can be obtained in -the country, owing to the prevalence of the apprentice system of work -in those parts. The London carpenters suffer greatly from what are -called “improvers,” who come up to town to get perfected in their art, -and work for little or no wages. The work of some of the large houses -is executed mainly in this way; that of Mr. Myers was, for instance, -against whom the men lately struck. - -But the unskilled labour of towns suffers far more than the skilled -from the above cause. - -The employment of unskilled labourers in towns is being constantly -rendered more casual by the migrations from the country parts. -The peasants, owing to the insufficiency of their wages, and the -wretchedness of their dwellings and diet, in Wilts, Somerset, Dorset, -and elsewhere, leave their native places without regret, and swell -the sum of unskilled labour in towns. This is shown by the increase -of population far beyond the excess of births over deaths in those -counties where there are large manufacturing or commercial towns; -whilst in purely agricultural counties the increase of population -does not keep pace with the excess of births. “Thus in Lancashire,” -writes Mr. Thornton, in his work on Over-Population, “the increase of -the population in the ten years ending in 1841, was 330,210, and in -Cheshire, 60,919; whilst the excess of births was only 150,150 in the -former, and 28,000 in the latter. In particular towns the contrast -is still more striking. In Liverpool and Bristol the annual deaths -actually exceed the births, so that these towns are only saved from -depopulation by their rural recruits, yet the first increased the -number of its inhabitants in ten years by more than one-third, and -the other by more than one-sixth. In Manchester, the annual excess of -births could only have added 19,390 to the population between 1831 -and 1841; the actual increase was 68,375. The number of emigrants -(immigrants) into Birmingham, during the same period, may, in the same -way, be estimated at 40,000; into Leeds, at 8000; into the metropolis, -at 130,000. On the other hand, in Dorset, Somerset, and Devon, the -actual addition to the population, in the same decennial period, was -only 15,491, 31,802, and 39,253 respectively; although the excess of -births over deaths in the same counties was about 20,000, 38,600, and -48,700.” - -The unskilled labour market suffers, again, from the depression of -almost any branch of skilled labour; for whatever branch of labour be -depressed, and men so be deprived of a sufficiency of employment, one -especial result ensues--the unskilled labour market is glutted. The -skilled labourer, a tailor, for instance, may be driven to work for the -wretched pittance of an East end slop-tailor, but he cannot “turn his -hand” to any other description of skilled labour. He cannot say, “I -will make billiard-tables, or book-cases, or boots, or razors;” so that -there is no resource for him but in unskilled labour. The Spitalfields -weavers have often sought dock labour; the turners of the same -locality, whose bobbins were once in great demand by the silk-winders, -and for the fringes of upholsterers, have done the same; and in this -way the increase of casual labour increases the poverty of the poor, -and so tends directly to the increase of pauperism. - - * * * * * - -We have now seen what a vast number of surplus labourers may be -produced by an extension of time, rate, or mode of working, as well as -by the increase of the hands, by other means than by _the increase of -the people themselves_. If, however, we are increasing our workers at -a greater rate than we are increasing the means of work, the excess of -workmen must, of course, remain unemployed. But are we doing this? - -Let us test the matter on the surest data. In the first instance let us -estimate the increase of population, both according to the calculations -of the late Mr. Rickman and the returns of the several censuses. The -first census, I may observe, was taken in 1801, and has been regularly -continued at intervals of ten years. The table first given refers to -the population of England and Wales:-- - - -INCREASE IN THE POPULATION OF ENGLAND AND WALES. - - -------+-----------+---------+--------+---------+-------------------------- - |Population,| |Increase| Annual | - Years. |England and|Numerical| per |Increase | - | Wales. |Increase.| Cent. |per cent.| - -------+---------------------+--------+---------+ - [43]1570| 4,038,879 | | | | - 1600| 4,811,718 | 772,839| 19 | 0·6 | - 1630| 5,601,517 | 789,799| 16 | 0·5 | - 1670| 5,773,646 | 172,129| 3 | 0·08 |Increase per Cent. - 1700| 6,045,008 | 271,362| 5 | 0·2 | in 50 Years, - 1750| 6,517,035 | 472,027| 8 | 0·2 | from 1801 to 1851 = 101. - [44]1801| 8,892,536 |2,375,501| 37 | 0·7 | - 1811|10,164,068 |1,271,532| 14 | 1·4 |Annual average increase - 1821|11,999,322 |1,835,250| 18 | 1·8 | per Cent., 1·41. - 1831|13,896,797 |1,897,475| 16 | 1·6 | - 1841|15,914,148 |1,982,489| 14 | 1·4 | - 1851|17,922,768 |1,968,341| 13 | 1·3 | - -------+-----------+---------+------------------+-------------------------- - - -INCREASE IN THE POPULATION OF SCOTLAND. - - -------+-----------+---------+---------+--------+----------------------- - | | |Increase| Annual | - Years.|Population,|Numerical| per |Increase | - | Scotland. |Increase.| Cent. |per Cent.| - -------+-----------+---------+--------+---------+ - [45]1755| 1,265,380 | | | |Increase per Cent. - [46]1801| 1,608,420 | 343,040 | 27 | 0·6 | in 50 years, from - 1811| 1,805,864 | 197,444 | 12 | 1·3 | 1801 to 1851 = 78. - 1821| 2,091,512 | 285,657 | 16 | 1·6 | - 1831| 2,364,386 | 272,865 | 13 | 1·3 |Annual rate of Increase - 1841| 2,620,184 | 255,798 | 11 | 1·1 | per Cent., 1·16. - 1851| 2,870,784 | 245,237 | 10 | 1·0 | - -------+-----------+---------+--------+---------+----------------------- - - -INCREASE IN THE POPULATION OF IRELAND. - - --------+-----------+------------+---------+------------+------------------- - | | Numerical |Increase |Annual rate | - | | Increase | and |of Increase | - | | and |Decrease |and Decrease| - Years. |Population,| Decrease. |per Cent.| per Cent. | - | Ireland. +------------+---------+------------+ - | | † denotes Increase. | - | | * „ Decrease. | - --------+-----------+------------+---------+------------+ - 1731[47]| 2,010,221 | | | | - 1754[48]| 2,372,634 | †362,413 | †19 | |Total Decrease - 1767 | 2,544,276 | †171,642 | †7 | | in 30 Years, from - 1777 | 2,690,556 | †146,280 | †6 | | 1821 to 1851 = - 1785 | 2,845,932 | †155,376 | †6 | | 4 per Cent. - 1788 | 4,040,000 |†1,194,068 | †42 | | - 1805[49]| 5,395,456 |†1,355,456 | †34 | |Annual rate of - 1813[50]| 5,937,858 | †542,402 | †10 | | Decrease for - 1821[51]| 6,801,827 | †863,969 | †15 | †1·4 | 30 Years, from - 1831 | 7,767,401 | †965,574 | †14 | †1·3 | 1821 to 1851, - 1841 | 8,175,124 | †407,723 | †5 | †·5 | ·1 per Cent. - 1851 | 6,515,794 |*1,659,330 | *20 | *1·8 | - --------+-----------+------------+---------+------------+------------------- - - -INCREASE IN THE POPULATION OF THE UNITED KINGDOM. - - ------+-----------+---------+---------+---------+------------------ - | | |Decennial| Annual |Increase in 30 - | |Numerical|Increase |Increase | years, from 1821 - Years.|Population.|Increase.|per Cent.|per Cent.| to 1851 = 31 - ------+-----------+---------+---------+---------+ per Cent. - 1821 |20,892,670 | | | | - 1831 |24,028,584 |3,135,914| 15 | 1·4 |Annual Rate of - 1841 |26,709,456 |2,680,872| 11 | 1·1 | Increase ·9 - 1851 |27,309,346 | 599,890| 2 | 0·2 | per Cent. - ------+-----------+---------+---------+---------+------------------ - -Discarding, then, all conjectural results, and adhering solely to -the returns of the censuses, we find that, according to the official -numberings of the people _throughout the kingdom_, the increased rate -of population is, in round numbers, 10 per cent. every ten years; that -is to say, where 100 persons were living in the United Kingdom in 1821, -there are 130 living in the present year of 1851. The average increase -in England and Wales for the last 50 years may, however, be said to be -1·5 per cent. per annum, the population having doubled itself during -that period. - -How, then, does this rate of increase among the people, and -consequently the labourers and artizans of the country, correspond with -the rate of increase in the production of commodities, or, in plain -English, the means of employment? _This_ is the main inquiry. - -The only means of determining the total amount of commodities produced, -and consequently the quantity of work done in the country, is from -official returns, submitted to the Parliament and the public as part -of the “revenue” of the kingdom. These afford a broad and accurate -basis for the necessary statistics; and to get rid of any speculating -or calculating on the subject, I will confine my notice to such -commodities; giving, however, further information bearing on the -subject, but still derived from official sources, so that there may be -no doubt on the matter. The facts in connection with this part of the -subject are exhibited in the table given in the next page. - -The majority of the articles there specified supply the elements of -trade and manufacture in furnishing the materials of our clothing, in -all its appliances of decency, comfort, and luxury. The table relates, -moreover, to our commerce with other countries--to the ships which find -profitable employment, and give such employment to our people, in the -aggregate commerce of the nation. Under almost every head, it will be -seen, the increase in the means of labour has been more extensive than -has the increase in the number of labourers; in some instances the -difference is wide indeed. - -The annual rate of increase among the population has been ·9 per -cent. From 1801 to 1841 the population of the kingdom at the outside -cannot be said to have doubled itself. Yet the productions in cotton -goods _were not less than ten times greater in 1851 than in 1801_. The -increase in the use of wool from 1821 to 1851 was more than sixfold; -that of the population, I may repeat, _not_ twofold. In _twenty_ years -(1831 to 1851) the hides were more than doubled in amount as a means of -production; in _fifty_ years the population has not increased to the -same amount. Can any one, then, contend that the labouring population -has extended itself at a greater rate than the means of labour, or -that the vast mass of surplus labour throughout the country is owing -to the working classes having increased more rapidly than the means of -employing them? - - -TABLE SHOWING THE INCREASE IN THE PRODUCTIONS AND COMMERCE OF THE -UNITED KINGDOM, FROM 1801-1850. - - ----------------------------------+----------+----------+-------------+-----------+----------+ - | | | Increase | | | - | | |and Decrease | |Increase | - + denotes increase. | | |per Cent. | |per Cent. | - * „ decrease. | 1801. | 1811. | from 1801 | 1821. |from 1811 | - | | | to 1811. | |to 1821. | - ----------------------------------+----------+----------+-------------+-----------+----------+ - Soap in lbs. |55,500,000|80,000,000| + 44 | 97,000,000| + 21 | - Cotton „ |56,000,000|92,000,000| + 64 |137,000,000| + 49 | - Wool „ | | | | 10,000,000| | - Silk „ | 1,000,000| 1,500,000| + 50 | 2,250,000| + 50 | - Flax „ | | | | 55,000,000| | - Hemp „ | | | | | | - Hides „ | | | | | | - Official Value of Exports[52] in £|24,500,000|21,750,000| * 11 | 40,250,000| + 85 | - Official Value of Imports „| |25,500,000| | 29,750,000| + 17 | - Tonnage of Vessels belonging | | | | | | - to British Empire | | | | 2,560,203| | - Tonnage of Vessels entering | | | | | | - Ports | | | | 1,895,000| | - ----------------------------------+----------+----------+-------------+-----------+----------+ - - +-----------+------------+------------+---------+------------+---------+---------+----------- - | | Increase | | | | | | - | |and Decrease| |Increase | |Increase | Total | Average - | | per Cent. | |per Cent.| |per Cent.|Increase | Annual - | 1831. | from 1812 | 1841. |from 1831| 1850. |from 1841|per Cent.| Increase - | | to 1831. | |to 1841. | |to 1850. | | per Cent. - +-----------+------------+------------+---------+-----------+----------+---------+----------- - |127,500,000| + 31 |170,500,000 | + 34 |205,000,000 | 20 | 269 | 5·3 - |273,000,009| + 99 |437,000,000 | + 60 |664,700,000 | 52 | 1087 | 21·7 - | 30,000,000| + 200 | 53,000,000 | + 77 | 72,675,000 | 37 | 627 | 20·9 - | 4,250,000| + 89 | 5,000,000 | + 18 | 7,159,000 | 43 | 616 | 12·3 - |104,000,000| + 89 |151,000,000 | + 45 |204,000,000 | 35 | 271 | 9·0 - | 56,500,000| | 73,000,000 | + 29 |117,447,000 | 61 | 108 | 5·4 - | 26,000,000| | 51,000,000 | + 96 | 66,300,000 | 30 | 155 | 7·7 - | 60,000,000| + 49 |101,750,000 | + 70 |197,309,000 | 94 | 705 | 14·1 - | 48,250,000| + 62 | 62,750,000 | + 30 |100,460,000 | 60 | 294 | 7·3 - | | | | | | | | - | 2,581,964| + 1 | 3,512,480 | + 36 | 4,232,962 | 21 | 65 | 2·2 - | | | | | | | | - | 3,241,927| + 71 | 4,652,376 | + 44 | 7,110,476 | 53 | 274 | 9·1 - +-----------+------------+------------+---------+------------+---------+---------+----------- - -Thus, it is evident, that the means of labour have increased at -a more rapid pace than the labouring population. But the increase -in “property” of the country, in that which is sometimes called the -“staple” property, being the assured possessions of the class of -proprietors or capitalists, as well as in the profits, prove that, -if the labourers of the country have been hungering for want of -employment, at least the wealth of the nation has kept pace with the -increase of the people, while the profits of trade have exceeded it. - - -AMOUNT OF THE PROPERTY AND INCOME OF GREAT BRITAIN. - - Property assessed Annual Profits - Year. to Property-tax. of Trade. - 1815 £60,000,000 £37,000,000 - 1842 95,250,000 - 1844 ... 60,000,000 - Increase 58 per cent. - „ ... 62 per cent. - Annual rate of increase 1·7 per cent. 1·7 per cent. - -Here, then, we find, that the property assessed to the property tax has -increased 35,250,000_l._ in 27 years, from 1815 to 1842, or upwards of -1,000,000_l._ sterling a year; this is at the rate of 1·7 per cent. -every year, whereas the population of Great Britain has increased at -the rate of only 1·4 per cent. per annum. But the amount of assessment -under the property tax, it should be borne in mind, does not represent -the full value of the possessions, so that among this class of -proprietors there is far greater wealth than the returns show. - -As regards the annual profits of trade, the increase between the years -1815 and 1844 has been 23,000,000_l._ in 29 years. This is at the rate -of 1·7 per cent. per annum, and the annual increase in the population -of Great Britain is only 1·4 per cent. But the amount of the profits of -trade is unquestionably greater than appears in the financial tables of -the revenue of the country; consequently there is a greater increase of -wealth over population than the figures indicate. - -The above returns show the following results:-- - - Increase - per Cent. - per Ann. - Population of the United Kingdom ·9 - Productions from 21 to 5 - Exports 14 - Imports 5 - Shipping entering Ports 9 - Property 1·7 - Profits of trade 1·7 - -Far, very far indeed then, beyond the increase of the population, has -been the increase of the wealth and work of the country. - -And now, after this imposing array of wealth, let us contemplate -the reverse of the picture: let us inquire if, while we have been -increasing in riches and productions far more rapidly than we have been -increasing in people and producers--let us inquire, I say, if we have -been numerically increasing also in the sad long lists of paupers and -criminals. Has our progress in poverty and crime been “_pari passu_,” -or been more than commensurate in the rapidity of its strides? - - -TABLE SHOWING THE NUMBER OF PAUPERS IN ENGLAND AND WALES.[53] - - ------+-----------------+-------------------+---------------+------------- - |Number of |Numerical Increase | | - |Paupers relieved,| and Decrease. |Annual Increase|Increase per - Years.| Quarters |+ denotes Increase.| and Decrease |Cent. from - | ending Lady-day.|* „ Decrease.| per Cent. |1840 to 1848 - ------+-----------------+-------------------+---------------+ = 56. - 1840 | 1,199,529 | | | Annual - 1841 | 1,299,048 | + 99,519 | + 8 | Increase, - 1842 | 1,427,187 | + 128,139 | + 10 | 7 per Cent. - 1843 | 1,539,490 | + 112,303 | + 8 | - 1844 | 1,477,561 | + 938,071 | + 60 | - 1845 | 1,470,970 | * 6,591 | * 0·4 | - 1846 | 1,332,089 | * 38,881 | * 3 | - 1847 | 1,721,350 | + 389,261 | + 29 | - 1848 | 1,876,541 | + 155,191 | + 9 | - ------+-----------------+-------------------+---------------+----------- - -Here, then, we have an increase of 56 per cent. in less than ten years, -though the increase of the population of England and Wales, in the same -time, was but 13 per cent.; and let it be remembered that the increase -of upwards of 650,000 paupers, in nine years, has accrued since the New -Poor Law has been in what may be considered full working; a law which -many were confident would result in a diminution of pauperism, and -which certainly cannot be charged with offering the least encouragement -to it. Still in _nine_ years, our poverty increases while our wealth -increases, and our paupers grow nearly four times as quick as our -people, while the profits on trade nearly double themselves in little -more than a quarter of a century. - -We now come to the records of criminality:-- - - -TABLE SHOWING THE INCREASE IN THE NUMBER OF CRIMINALS IN ENGLAND AND -WALES FROM 1805-1850. - - ----+--------------+---------+---------+---------+---------+--------------- - | Annual | | | |Increase | - |Average Number| |Decennial| Annual |per Cent.| - | of Criminals |Numerical|Increase |Increase | in the | - | Committed. |Increase.|per Cent.|per Cent.|43 years.| - ----+--------------+---------+---------+---------+---------+--------------- - 1805| 4,605 | | | | |Annual Average - 1811| 5,375 | 770 | 17 | 2·8 | | Increase - 1821| 9,783 | 4408 | 82 | 8·2 | | per Cent., - 1831| 15,318 | 5535 | 57 | 5·7 | 504 | 11·7. - 1841| 22,305 | 6987 | 46 | 4·6 | | - 1850| 27,814 | 5509 | 25 | 3·6 | | - ----+--------------+---------+---------+---------+---------+--------------- - -From these results--and such figures are facts, and therefore stubborn -things--the people cannot be said to have increased beyond the wealth -or the means of employing them, for it is evident that _we increase in -poverty and crime as we increase in wealth, and in both far beyond our -increase in numbers_. The above are the bare facts of the country--it -is for the reader to explain them as he pleases. - - * * * * * - -As yet we have dealt with those causes of casual labour only which may -induce a surplusage of labourers without any _decrease taking place -in the quantity of work_. We have seen, first, how the number of the -unemployed may be increased either by altering the hours, rate, or mode -of working, or else by changing the term of hiring, and this while the -number of labourers remains the same; and, secondly, we have seen how -the same results may ensue from increasing the number of labourers, -while the conditions of working and hiring are unaltered. Under both -these circumstances, however, the actual quantity of work to be done -in the country has been supposed to undergo no change whatever; and -at present we have to point out not only how the amount of surplus, -and, consequently, of casual labour, in the kingdom, may be increased -by _a decrease of the work_, but also how the work itself may be made -to decrease. To know the causes of the one we must ascertain the -antecedents of the other. What, then, are the circumstances inducing -a decrease in the quantity of work? and, consequently, what the -circumstances inducing an increase in the amount of surplus and casual -labour? - -In the first place we may induce a large amount of casual labour _in -particular districts_, not by decreasing the gross quantity of work -required by the country, but by merely shifting the work into new -quarters, and so decreasing the quantity in the ordinary localities. -“The west of England,” says Mr. Dodd, in his account of the textile -manufactures of Great Britain, “was formerly, and continued to be till -a comparatively recent period, the most important clothing district in -England. The changes which the woollen manufacture, as respects both -localization and mode of management, has been and is now undergoing, -are very remarkable. Some years ago the ‘west of England cloths’ were -the test of excellence in this manufacture; while the productions of -Yorkshire were deemed of a coarser and cheaper character. At present, -although the western counties have not deteriorated in their product, -the West Riding of Yorkshire has made giant strides, by which equal -skill in every department has been attained; while the commercial -advantages resulting from coal-mines, from water-power, from canals -and railroads, and from vicinage to the eastern port of Hull and the -western port of Liverpool, give to the West Riding a power which -Gloucestershire and Somersetshire cannot equal. The steam-engine, -too, and various machines for facilitating some of the manufacturing -processes, have been more readily introduced into the former than into -the latter; a circumstance which, even without reference to other -points of comparison, is sufficient to account for much of the recent -advance in the north.” - -Of late years the products of many of the west of England clothing -districts have considerably declined. Shepton Mallet, Frome and -Trowbridge, for instance, which were at one time the seats of a -flourishing manufacture for cloth, have now but little employment for -the workmen in those parts; and so with other towns. “At several places -in Wiltshire, Somersetshire, and Gloucestershire, and others of the -western counties,” says Mr. Thornton, “most of the cottagers, fifty -years ago, were weavers, whose chief dependence was their looms, though -they worked in the field at harvest time and other busy seasons. By so -doing they kept down the wages of agricultural labourers, who had no -other employment; and now that they have themselves become dependent -upon agriculture, in consequence of the removal of the woollen -manufacture from the cottage to the factory” [as well as to the north -of England], “these reduced wages have become their own portion also;” -or, in other words, since the shifting of the woollen manufacture in -these parts, the quantity of casual labour in the cultivation of the -land has been augmented. - -The same effect takes place, of course, if the work be shifted to -the Continent, instead of merely to another part of our own country. -This has been the main cause of the misery of the straw-plaiters of -Buckinghamshire and Bedfordshire. “During the last war,” says the -author before quoted, “there were examples of women (the wives and -children of labouring men) earning as much as 22_s._ a week. The -profits of this employment have been so much reduced by the competition -of Leghorn hats and bonnets, that a straw-plaiter cannot earn much more -than 2_s._ 6_d._ in the week.” - -But the work of particular localities may not only decrease, and the -casual labour, in those parts, increase in the same proportion, by -shifting it to other localities (either at home or abroad), even while -the gross quantity of work required by the nation remains the same, -but the quantity of work may be less than ordinary at _a particular -time_, even while the same gross quantity annually required undergoes -no change. This is the case in those periodical gluts which arise from -over-production, in the cotton and other trades. The manufacturers, in -such cases, have been increasing the supplies at a too rapid rate in -proportion to the demand of the markets, so that, though there be no -decrease in the requirements of the country, there ultimately accrues -such a surplus of commodities beyond the wants and means of the people, -that the manufacturers are compelled to stop producing until such time -as the regular demand carries off the extra supply. And during all this -time either the labourers have to work half-time at half-pay, or else -they are thrown out of employment altogether. - -Thus far we have proceeded in the assumption that the actual quantity -of work required by the nation _does not decrease in the aggregate, but -only in particular places or at particular times_, owing to a greater -quantity than usual being done in other places or at other times[54]. -We have still to consider what are the circumstances which tend to -_diminish the gross quantity of work required by the country_. To -understand these we must know the conditions on which all work depends; -these are simply the conditions of demand and supply, and hence to -know what it is that regulates the demand for commodities, and what it -is that regulates the supply of them, is also to know what it is that -regulates the quantity of work required by the nation. - -Let me begin with the decrease of work arising from a _decrease of the -demand_ for certain commodities. This decrease of demand may proceed -from one of three causes:-- - - 1. An increase of cost. - 2. A change of taste or fashion. - 3. A change of circumstances. - -The _increase of cost_ may be brought about either by an increase in -the expense of production or by a tax laid upon the article, as in -the case of hair-powder, before quoted. Of the _change of taste or -fashion_, as a means of decreasing the demand for a certain article -of manufacture, and, consequently, of a particular form of labour, -many instances have already been given; to these the following may -be added:--“In Dorsetshire,” says Mr. Thornton, “the making of wire -shirt-buttons (now in a great measure superseded by the use of -mother-o’-pearl) once employed great numbers of women and children.” So -it has been with the manufacture of metal coat-buttons; the change to -silk has impoverished hundreds. - -The decrease of work arising from a _change of circumstances_ may be -seen in the fluctuations of the iron trade; in the railway excitement -the demand for labour in the iron districts was at least tenfold as -great as it is at present, and so again with the demand for arms during -war time; at such periods the quantity of work in that particular line -at Birmingham is necessarily increased, while the contrary effects, -of course, ensue immediately the requirements cease, and a large -mass of surplus and casual hands is the result. It is the same with -the soldiers themselves, as with the gun and sword makers; on the -disbanding of certain portions of the army at the conclusion of a -war, a vast amount of surplus labourers are poured into the country -to compete with those already in work, and either to drag down their -weekly earnings, or else, by obtaining _casual_ employment in their -stead, to reduce the gross quantity of work accruing to each, and so -to render their incomes not only less in amount but less constant and -regular. Within the last few weeks no less than 1000 policemen employed -during the Exhibition have been discharged, of course with a like -result to the labour market. - -The circumstances tending to _diminish the supply_ of certain -commodities, are-- - - 1. Want of capital. - 2. Want of materials. - 3. Want of labourers. - 4. Want of opportunity. - -The _decrease of the quantity of capital_ in a trade may be brought -about by several means: it may be produced by a want of security felt -among the moneyed classes, as at the time of revolutions, political -agitations, commercial depressions, or panics; or it may be produced -by a deficiency of enterprise after the bursting of certain commercial -“bubbles,” or the decline of particular manias for speculation, as on -the cessation of the railway excitement; so, again, it may be brought -about by a failure of the ordinary produce of the year, as with bad -harvests. - -The _decrease of the quantity of materials_, as tending to diminish the -supply of certain commodities, may be seen in the failure of the cotton -crops, which, of course, deprive the cotton manufacturers of their -ordinary quantity of work. The same diminution in the ordinary supply -of particular articles ensues when the men engaged in the production -of them “strike” either for an advance of wages, or more generally to -resist the attempt of some cutting employer to reduce their ordinary -earnings; and lastly, a like decrease of work necessarily ensues when -the _opportunity of working is changed_. Some kinds of work, as we -have already seen, depend on the weather--on either the wind, rain, or -temperature; while other kinds can only be pursued at certain seasons -of the year, as brick-making, building, and the like; hence, on the -cessation of the opportunities for working in these trades, there is -necessarily a great decrease in the quantity of work, and consequently -a large increase in the amount of surplus and therefore casual labour. - - * * * * * - -We have now, I believe, exhausted the several causes of that vast -national evil--casual labour. We have seen that it depends, - - First, upon certain times and seasons, fashions and accidents, which - tend to cause a periodical briskness or slackness in different - employments; - - And secondly, upon the number of surplus labourers in the country. - -The circumstances inducing surplus labour we have likewise ascertained -to be three. - - 1. An alteration in the hours, rate, or mode of working, as well as in - the mode of hiring. - - 2. An increase of the hands. - - 3. A decrease of the work, either in particular places, at particular - times, or in the aggregate, owing to a decrease either in the demand - or means of supply. - -Any one of these causes, it has been demonstrated, must necessarily -tend to induce an over supply of labourers and consequently a casualty -of labour, for it has been pointed out that an over supply of labourers -does not depend _solely_ on an increase of the workers beyond the means -of working, but that a decrease of the ordinary quantity of work, or a -general increase of the hours or rate of working, or an extension of -the system of production, or even a diminution of the term of hiring, -will also be attended with the same result--facts which should be borne -steadily in mind by all those who would understand the difficulties of -the times, and which the “economists” invariably ignore. - -On a careful revision of the whole of the circumstances before -detailed, I am led to believe that there is considerable truth in -the statement lately put forward by the working classes, that only -one-third of the operatives of this country are fully employed, while -another third are partially employed, and the remaining third wholly -unemployed; that is to say, estimating the working classes as being -between four and five millions in number, I think we may safely -assert--considering how many depend for their employment on particular -times, seasons, fashions, and accidents, and the vast quantity of -over-work and scamp-work in nearly all the cheap trades of the present -day, the number of women and children who are being continually -drafted into the different handicrafts with the view of reducing the -earnings of the men, the displacement of human labour in some cases by -machinery, and the tendency to increase the division of labour, and to -extend the large system of production beyond the requirements of the -markets, as well as the temporary mode of hiring--all these things -being considered, I say I believe we may safely conclude that, out of -the four million five hundred thousand people who have to depend on -their industry for the livelihood of themselves and families, there is -(owing to the extraordinary means of economizing labour which have been -developed of late years, and the discovery as to how to do the work of -the nation with fewer people) barely sufficient work for the _regular_ -employment of half of our labourers, so that only 1,500,000 are fully -and constantly employed, while 1,500,000 more are employed only half -their time, and the remaining 1,500,000 wholly unemployed, obtaining a -day’s work _occasionally_ by the displacement of some of the others. - -Adopt what explanation we will of this appalling deficiency of -employment, one thing at least is certain: we cannot _consistently with -the facts of the country_, ascribe it to an increase of the population -beyond the means of labour; for we have seen that, while the people -have increased during the last fifty years at the rate of ·9 per cent. -per annum, the wealth and productions of the kingdom have far exceeded -that amount. - - -OF THE CASUAL LABOURERS AMONG THE RUBBISH-CARTERS. - -The casual labour of so large a body of men as the rubbish-carters is a -question of high importance, for it affects the whole unskilled labour -market. And this is one of the circumstances distinguishing unskilled -from skilled labour. Unemployed cabinet-makers, for instance, do not -apply for work to a tailor; so that, with skilled labourers, only one -trade is affected in the slack season by the scarcity of employment -among its operatives. With unskilled labourers it is otherwise. If in -the course of next week 100 rubbish-carters were from any cause to be -thrown out of employment, and found an impossibility to obtain work at -rubbish-carting, there would be 100 fresh applicants for employment -among the bricklayer’s-labourers, scavagers, nightmen, sewermen, -dock-workers, lumpers, &c. Many of the 100 thus unemployed would, of -course, be willing to work at reduced wages merely that they might -subsist; and thus the hands employed by the regular and “honourable” -part of those trades are exposed to the risk of being underworked, -as regards wages, from the surplusage of labour in other unskilled -occupations. - -The employment of the rubbish-carters depends, in the first -instance, upon the _season_. The services of the men are called into -requisition when houses are being built or removed. In the one case, -the rubbish-carters cart away the refuse earth; in the other they -remove the old materials. The _brisk season_ for the builders, and -consequently for the rubbish-carters, is, as I heard several of them -express it, “when days are long.” From about the middle of April to the -middle of October is the _brisk_ season of the rubbish-carters, for -during those six months more buildings are erected than in the winter -half of the year. There is an advantage in fine weather in the masonry -becoming _set_; and efforts are generally made to complete at least the -carcase of a house before the end of October, at the latest. - -I am informed that the difference in the employment of labourers -about buildings is 30 per cent.--one builder estimated it at 50 per -cent.--less in winter than in summer, from the circumstance of fewer -buildings being then in the course of erection. It may be thought -that, as rubbish-carters are employed frequently on the foundation of -buildings, their business would not be greatly affected by the season -or the weather. But the work is often more difficult in wet weather, -the ground being heavier, so that a smaller extent of work only can -be accomplished, compared to what can be done in fine weather; and an -employer may decline to pay six days’ wages for work in winter, which -he might get done in five days in summer. If the men work by the piece -or the load the result is the same; the rubbish-carter’s employer has a -smaller return, for there is less work to be charged to the customer, -while the cost in keeping the horses is the same. - -Thus it appears that under the most favourable circumstances about -_one-fourth_ of the rubbish-carters, even in the honourable trade, may -be exposed to the evils of non-employment merely from the state of the -weather influencing, more or less, the custom of the trade, and this -even during _the_ six months’ employment out of the year; after which -the men must find some other means of earning a livelihood. - -There are, in round numbers, 850 operative rubbish-carters employed -in the brisk season throughout the metropolis; hence 212 men, at this -calculation, would be regularly deprived of work every year for six -months out of the twelve. It will be seen, however, on reference to -the table here given, that the average number of weeks each of the -rubbish-carters is employed throughout the twelve months is far below -26; indeed many have but three and four weeks work out of the 52. - -By an analysis of the returns I have collected on this subject I find -the following to have been the actual term of employment for the -several rubbish-carters in the course of last year:-- - - Employment in the - Men. Year. - - 9 had 39 weeks, or 9 months. - 214 „ 26 „ 6 „ - 4 „ 20 „ 5 „ - 10 „ 18 „ - 28 „ 16 „ 4 „ - 8 „ 14 „ - 353 „ 13 „ 3 „ - 4 „ 12 „ - 34 „ 10 „ - 29 „ 9 „ - 38 „ 8 „ 2 „ - 38 „ 6 „ - 27 „ 5 „ - 45 „ 4 „ 1 „ - 15 „ 3 „ - --- - 856 - -Hence about one-fourth of the trade appear to have been employed for -six months, while upwards of one-half had work for only three months -or less throughout the year--many being at work only three days in the -week during that time. - -The rubbish-carter is exposed to another casualty over which he can no -more exercise control than he can over the weather; I mean to what is -generally called _speculation_, or a rage for building. This is evoked -by the state of the money market, and other causes upon which I need -not dilate; but the effect of it upon the labourers I am describing is -this: capitalists may in one year embark sufficient means in building -speculations to erect, say 500 new houses, in any particular district. -In the following year they may not erect more than 200 (if any), and -thus, as there is the same extent of unskilled labour in the market, -the number of hands required is, if the trade be generally less -speculative, less in one year than in its predecessor by the number of -rubbish-carters required to work at the foundations of 300 houses. Such -a cause may be exceptional; but during the last ten years the inhabited -houses in the five districts of the Registrar-General have increased -to the extent of 45,000, or from 262,737 in 1841, to 307,722 in 1851. -It appears, then, that the annual increase of our metropolitan houses, -concluding that they increase in a regular yearly ratio, is 4500. Last -year, however, as I am informed by an experienced builder, there were -rather fewer buildings erected (he spoke only from his own observations -and personal knowledge of the business) than the yearly average of the -decennial term. - -The casual and constant wages of the rubbish-carters may be thus -detailed. The whole system of the labour, I may again state, must be -regarded as _casual_, or--as the word imports in its derivation from -the Latin _casus_, a chance--the labour of men who are occasionally -employed. Some of the most respectable and industrious rubbish-carters -with whom I met, told me they generally might make up their minds, -though they might have excellent masters, to be six months of the year -unemployed at rubbish-carting; this, too, is less than the average of -this chance employment. - -Calculating, then, the rubbish-carter’s receipt of _nominal wages_ at -18_s._, and his _actual wages_ at 20_s._ in the honourable trade, I -find the following amount to be paid. - -By nominal wages, I have before explained, I mean what a man is _said_ -to receive, or has been _promised_ that he shall be paid weekly. Actual -wages, on the other hand, are what a man positively _receives_, there -being sometimes additions in the form of perquisites or allowances; -sometimes deductions in the way of fines and stoppages; the additions -in the rubbish-carting trade appear to average about 2_s._ a week. -But these _actual wages_ are received only so long as the men are -employed, that is to say, they are the _casual_ rather than the -_constant_ earnings of the men working at a trade, which is essentially -of an occasional or temporary character; the average employment at -rubbish-carting being only three months in the year. - -Let us see, therefore, what would be the constant earnings or income of -the men working at the better-paid portion of the trade. - - £ _s._ _d._ - The gross actual wages of ten - rubbish-carters, casually employed - for 39 weeks, at 20_s._ per week, - amount to 390 0 0 - - The gross actual wages of 250 - rubbish-carters, casually employed - for 26 weeks, at 20_s._ per week 6500 0 0 - - The gross actual wages of 360 - rubbish-carters, casually employed - for 13 weeks, at 20_s._ per week 4600 0 0 - ------------ - Total gross actual wages of 620 - of the better-paid rubbish-carters 11,490 0 0 - -But this, as I said before, represents only the _casual_ wages of the -better-paid operatives--that is to say, it shows the amount of money -or money’s worth that is positively received by the men while they are -in employment. To understand what are the _constant_ wages of these -men, we must divide their gross casual earnings by 52, the number of -weeks in the year: thus we find that the constant wages of the ten -men who were employed for 39 weeks, were 15_s._ instead of 20_s._ per -week--that is to say, their wages, equally divided throughout the year, -would have yielded that constant weekly income. By the same reasoning, -the 20_s._ per week casual wages of the 250 men employed for 26 weeks -out of the 52, were equal to only 10_s._ constant weekly wages; and so -the 360 men, who had 20_s._ per week casually for only three months -in the year, had but 5_s._ a week _constantly_ throughout the whole -year. Hence we see the enormous difference there may be between a man’s -casual and his constant earnings at a given trade. - -The next question that forces itself on the mind is, how do the -rubbish-carters live when no longer employed at this kind of work? - -When the slack season among rubbish-carters commences, nearly one-fifth -of the operatives are discharged. These take to scavaging or dustman’s -work, as well as that of navigators, or, indeed, any form of unskilled -labour, some obtaining full employ, but the greater part being able -to “get a job only now and then.” Those masters who keep their men -on throughout the year are some of them large dust contractors, some -carmen, some dairymen, and (in one or two instances in the suburbs, as -at Hackney) small farmers. The dust-contractors and carmen, who are by -far the more numerous, find employment for the men employed by them -as rubbish-carters in the season, either at the dust-yard or carrying -sand, or, indeed, carting any materials they may have to move--the -wages to the men remaining the same; indeed such is the transient -character of the rubbish-carting trade, that there are no masters or -operatives who devote themselves solely to the business. - -THE EFFECTS OF CASUAL LABOUR IN GENERAL. - -Having now pointed out the causes of casual labour, I proceed to set -forth its effects. - -All casual labour, as I have said, is necessarily _uncertain_ -labour; and wherever uncertainty exists, there can be no foresight -or pro-vidence. Had the succession of events in nature been -irregular,--had it been ordained by the Creator that similar causes -under similar circumstances should _not_ be attended with similar -effects,--it would have been impossible for us to have had any -knowledge of the future, or to have made any preparations concerning -it. Had the seasons followed each other fitfully,--had the sequences -in the external world been variable instead of invariable, and what -are now termed “constants” from the regularity of their succession -been changed into inconstants,--what provision could even the most -prudent of us have made? Where all was dark and unstable, we could -only have guessed instead of reasoned as to what was to come; and who -would have deprived himself of present enjoyments to avoid future -privations, which could appear neither probable nor even possible -to him? Pro-vidence, therefore, is simply the result of certainty, -and whatever tends to increase our faith in the uniform sequences -of outward events, as well as our reliance on the means we have of -avoiding the evils connected with them, necessarily tends to make us -more prudent. Where the means of sustenance and comfort are fixed, the -human being becomes conscious of what he has to depend upon; and if he -feel _assured_ that such means may fail him in old age or in sickness, -and be fully impressed with the _certainty_ of suffering from either, -he will immediately proceed to make some provision against the time of -adversity or infirmity. If, however, his means be _uncertain_--abundant -at one time, and deficient at another--a spirit of speculation or -gambling with the future will be induced, and the individual get to -believe in “luck” and “fate” as the arbiters of his happiness rather -than to look upon himself as “the architect of his fortunes”--trusting -to “chance” rather than his own powers and foresight to relieve him -at the hour of necessity. The same result will necessarily ensue if, -from defective reasoning powers, the ordinary course of nature be not -sufficiently apparent to him, or if, being in good health, he grow too -confident upon its continuance, and, either from this or other causes, -is led to believe that death will overtake him before his powers of -self-support decay. - -The ordinary effects of uncertain labour, then, are to drive the -labourers to improvidence, recklessness, and pauperism. - -Even in the classes which we do not rank among labourers, as, for -instance, authors, artists, musicians, actors, uncertainty or -irregularity of employment and remuneration produces a spirit of -wastefulness and carelessness. The steady and daily accruing gains of -trade and of some of the professions form a certain and staple income; -while in other professions, where a large sum may be realized at one -time, and then no money be earned until after an interval, incomings -are rapidly spent, and the interval is one of suffering. This is part -of the very nature, the very essence, of the casualty of employment -and the delay of remuneration. The past privation gives a zest to -the present enjoyment; while the present enjoyment renders the past -privation faint as a remembrance and unimpressive as a warning. “Want -of providence,” writes Mr. Porter, “on the part of those who live by -the labour of their hands, and whose employments so often depend upon -circumstances beyond their control, is a theme which is constantly -brought forward by many whose lot in life has been cast beyond the -reach of want. It is, indeed, greatly to be wished, for their own -sakes, that the habit were general among the labouring classes of -saving some part of their wages when fully employed, against less -prosperous times; but it is difficult for those who are placed in -circumstances of ease to _estimate the amount of virtue that is implied -in this self-denial_. It must be a hard trial for one who has recently, -perhaps, seen his family enduring want, to deny them the small amount -of indulgences, which are, at the best of times, placed within their -reach.” - -It is easy enough for men in smooth circumstances to say, “the -privation is a man’s own fault, since, to avoid it, he has but to -apportion the sum he may receive in a lump over the interval of -non-recompense which he knows will follow.” Such a course as this, -experience and human nature have shown not to be easy--perhaps, with -a few exceptions, not to be possible. It is the starving and not the -well-fed man that is in danger of surfeiting himself. When pestilence -or revolution are rendering life and property _casualties_ in a -country, the same spirit of improvident recklessness breaks forth. In -London, on the last visitation of the plague, in the reign of Charles -II., a sort of Plague Club indulged in the wildest excesses in the -very heart of the pestilence. To these orgies no one was admitted who -had not been bereft of some relative by the pest. In Paris, during the -reign of terror in the first revolution, the famous Guillotine Club -was composed of none but those who had lost some near relative by the -guillotine. When they met for their half-frantic revels every one wore -some symbol of death: breast pins in the form of guillotines, rings -with death’s-heads, and such like. The duration of their own lives -these Guillotine Clubbists knew to be uncertain, not merely in the -ordinary uncertainty of nature, but from the character of the times; -and this feeling of the jeopardy of existence, from the practice of -violence and bloodshed, wrought the effects I have described. Life -was more than naturally casual. When the famine was at the worst in -Ireland, it was remarked in the _Cork Examiner_, that in that city -there never had been seen more street “larking” or street gambling -among the poor lads and young men who were really starving. This was a -natural result of the casualty of labour and the consequent casualty of -food. Persons, it should be remembered, do not insure houses or shops -that are “doubly or trebly hazardous;” they gamble on the uncertainty. - -Mr. Porter, in his “Progress of the Nation,” cites a fact bearing -immediately upon the present subject. - -“The formation of a canal, which has been in progress during the last -five years, in the north of Ireland (this was written in 1847), has -afforded steady employment to a portion of the peasantry, who before -that time were suffering all the evils, so common in that country, -which result from the precariousness of employment. Such work as they -could previously get came at uncertain intervals, and was sought -by so many competitors, that the remuneration was of the scantiest -amount. In this condition of things the men were improvident, to -recklessness; their wages, insufficient for the comfortable sustenance -of their families, were wasted in procuring for themselves a temporary -forgetfulness of their misery at the whiskey-shop, and the men -appeared to be sunk into a state of hopeless degradation. From the -moment, however, that work was offered to them which was _constant in -its nature and certain in its duration_, and on which their weekly -earnings would be sufficient to provide for their comfortable support, -_men who had been idle and dissolute were converted into sober -hard-working labourers, and proved themselves kind and careful husbands -and fathers_; and it is stated as a fact, that, notwithstanding the -distribution of several hundred pounds weekly in wages, the whole of -which must be considered as so much additional money placed in their -hands, the consumption of whiskey was absolutely and _permanently_ -diminished in the district. During the comparatively short period in -which the construction of this canal was in progress, some of the most -careful labourers--men who most probably before then never knew what it -was to possess five shillings at any one time--saved sufficient money -to enable them to emigrate to Canada.” - -There can hardly be a stronger illustration of the blessing of constant -and the curse of casual labour. We have competence and frugality as the -results of one system; poverty and extravagance as the results of the -other; and among the very same individuals. - -In the evidence given by Mr. Galloway, the engineer, before a -parliamentary committee, he remarks, that “when employers are competent -to show their men that their business is _steady and certain_, and when -men find that they are likely to have _permanent_ employment, they have -always _better habits and more settled notions_, which will make them -_better men_ and _better workmen_, and will produce great benefits to -all who are interested in their employment.” - -Moreover, even if payment be assured to a working man regularly, _but -deferred for long intervals_, so as to make the returns lose all -appearance of regularity, he will rarely be found able to resist the -temptation of a tavern, and, perhaps, a long-continued carouse, or of -some other extravagance to his taste, when he receives a month’s dues -at once. I give an instance of this in the following statement:-- - -For some years after the peace of 1815 the staffs of the militias were -kept up, but not in any active service. During the war the militias -performed what are now the functions of the regular troops in the three -kingdoms, their stations being changed more frequently than those of -any of the regular regiments at the present day. Indeed, they only -differed from the “regulars” in name. There was the same military -discipline, and the sole difference was, that the militia-men--who -were balloted for periodically--could not, by the laws regulating -their embodiment, be sent out of the United Kingdom for purposes of -warfare. The militias were embodied for twenty-eight days’ training, -once in four years (seldom less) after the peace, and the staff acted -as the drill sergeants. They were usually steady, orderly men, working -at their respective crafts when not on duty after the militia’s -disembodiment, and some who had not been brought up to any handicraft -turned out--perhaps from their military habits of early rising and -orderliness--very good gardeners, both on their own account and as -assistants in gentlemen’s grounds. No few of them saved money. Yet -these men, with very few exceptions, when they received a month’s pay, -fooled away a part of it in tippling and idleness, to which they were -not at all addicted when attending regularly to their work with its -regular returns. If they got into any trouble in consequence of their -carousing, it was looked upon as a sort of legitimate excuse, “Why you -see, sir, it was the 24th” (the 24th of each month being the pension -day). - -The thoughtless extravagance of sailors when, on their return to port, -they receive in one sum the wages they have earned by severe toil -amidst storms and dangers during a long voyage, I need not speak of; it -is a thing well known. - -These soldiers and seamen cannot be said to have been _casually_ -employed, but the results were the same as if they had been so -employed; the money came to them in a lump at so long an interval as to -appear uncertain, and was consequently squandered. - -I may cite the following example as to the effects of uncertain -earnings upon the household outlay of labourers who suffer from the -casualties of employment induced by the season of the year. “In the -long fine days of summer, the little daughter of a working brickmaker,” -I was told, “used to order chops and other choice dainties of a -butcher, saying, ‘Please, sir, father don’t care for the price just -a-now; but he must have his chops good; line-chops, sir, and tender, -please--’cause he’s a brickmaker.’ In the winter, it was, ‘O please, -sir, here’s a fourpenny bit, and you must send father something cheap. -He don’t care what it is, so long as it’s cheap. It’s winter, and he -hasn’t no work, sir--’cause he’s a brickmaker.’” - -I have spoken of the tendency of casual labour to induce intemperate -habits. In confirmation of this I am enabled to give the following -account as to the increase of the sale of malt liquor in the metropolis -_consequent upon wet weather_. The account is derived from the personal -observations of a gentleman long familiar with the brewing trade, in -connection with one of the largest houses. In short, I may state that -the account is given on the very best authority. - -There are _nine_ large brewers in London; of these the two firms -transacting the greatest extent of business supply, daily, 1000 barrels -each firm to their customers; the seven others, among them, dispose, -altogether, of 3000 barrels daily. All these 5000 barrels a day are -solely for town consumption; and this may be said to be the _average_ -supply the year through, but the public-house sale is far from regular. - -After a wet day the sale of malt liquor, principally beer (porter), to -the metropolitan retailers is from 500 to 1000 barrels more than when -a wet day has not occurred; that is to say, the supply increases from -5000 barrels to 5500 and 6000. Such of the publicans as keep small -stocks go the next day to their brewers to order a further supply; -those who have better-furnished cellars may not go for two or three -days after, but the result is the same. - -The reason for this increased consumption is obvious; when the weather -prevents workmen from prosecuting their respective callings in the -open air, they have recourse to drinking, to pass away the idle time. -Any one who has made himself familiar with the habits of the working -classes has often found them crowding a public-house during a hard -rain, especially in the neighbourhood of new buildings, or any public -open-air work. The street-sellers, themselves prevented from plying -their trades outside, are busy in such times in the “publics,” offering -for sale braces, belts, hose, tobacco-boxes, nuts of different kinds, -apples, &c. A bargain may then be struck for so much and a half-pint of -beer, and so the consumption is augmented by the trade in other matters. - -Now, taking 750 barrels as the average of the extra sale of beer in -consequence of wet weather, we have a consumption beyond the demands -of the ordinary trade in malt liquor of 27,000 gallons, or 216,000 -pints. This, at 2_d._ a pint, is 3000_l._ for a day’s needless, and -often prejudicial, outlay caused by the casualty of the weather and -the consequent casualty of labour. A censor of morals might say that -these men should go home under such circumstances; but their homes may -be at a distance, and may present no great attractions; the single men -among them may have no homes, merely sleeping-places; and even the more -prudent may think it advisable to wait awhile under shelter in hopes -of the weather improving, so that they could resume their labour, and -only an hour or so be deducted from their wages. Besides, there is the -attraction to the labourer of the warmth, discussion, freedom, and -excitement of the public-house. - -That the great bulk of the consumers of this _additional_ beer are -of the classes I have mentioned is, I think, plain enough, from the -increase being experienced only in that beverage, the consumption of -gin being little affected by the same means. Indeed, the statistics -showing the ratio of beer and gin-drinking are curious enough (were -this the place to enter into them), the most gin, as a general rule, -being consumed in the most depressed years. - -“It is a fact worth notice,” said a statistical journal, entitled -“Facts and Figures,” published in 1841, “as illustrative of the -_tendency of the times of pressure to increase spirit drinking_, that -whilst under the privations of last year (1840) the poorer classes -paid 2,628,286_l._ tax for spirits; in 1836, a year of the greatest -prosperity, the tax on British spirits amounted only to 2,390,188_l._ -_So true is it that to impoverish is to demoralise._” - -The numbers who imbibe, in the course of a wet day, these 750 barrels, -cannot, of course, be ascertained, but the following calculations may -be presented. The class of men I have described rarely have spare -money, but if known to a landlord, they probably may obtain credit -until the Saturday night. Now, putting their _extra_ beer-drinking on -wet days--for on fine days there is generally a pint or more consumed -daily per working man--putting, I say, the _extra_ potations at a pot -(quart) each man, we find _one hundred and eight thousand_ consumers -(out of 2,000,000 people, or, discarding the women and children, not -1,000,000)! A number doubling, and trebling, and quadrupling the male -adult population of many a splendid continental city. - -Of the data I have given, I may repeat, no doubt can be entertained; -nor, as it seems to me, can any doubt be entertained that the increased -consumption is directly attributable to the casualty of labour[55]. - - -OF THE SCURF TRADE AMONG THE RUBBISH-CARTERS. - -Before proceeding to treat of the cheap or “scurf” labourers among -the rubbish-carters, I shall do as I have done in connection with -the casual labourers of the same trade, say a few words on that kind -of labour in general, both as to the means by which it is usually -obtained and as to the distinctive qualities of the scurf or low-priced -labourers; for experience teaches me that the mode by which labour is -cheapened is more or less similar in all trades, and it will therefore -save much time and space if I here--as with the casual labourers--give -the general facts in connection with this part of my subject. - -In the first place, then, there are but two direct modes of cheapening -labour, viz.:-- - -1. By making the workmen do _more_ work for the _same_ pay. - -2. By making them do the _same_ work for _less_ pay. - -The first of these modes is what is technically termed “_driving_,” -especially when effected by compulsory “overwork;” and it is called -the “economy of labour” when brought about by more elaborate and -refined processes, such as the division of labour, the large system -of production, the invention of machinery, and the _temporary_, as -contradistinguished from the _permanent_, mode of hiring. - -Each of these modes of making workmen do _more_ work for the _same_ -pay, can but have the same depressing effect on the labour market, for -not only is the _rate_ of remuneration (or ratio of the work to the -pay) reduced when the operative is made to do a greater quantity of -work for the same amount of money, but, unless the means of disposing -of the extra products be proportionately increased, it is evident that -just as many workmen must be displaced thereby as the increased term or -rate of working exceeds the extension of the markets; that is to say, -if 4000 workpeople be made to produce each twice as much as formerly -(either by extending the hours of labour or increasing their rate of -labouring), then if the markets or means of disposing of the extra -products be increased only one-half, 1000 hands must, according to -Cocker, be deprived of their ordinary employment; and these competing -with those who are in work will immediately tend to reduce the wages -of the trade generally, so that not only will the _rate_ of wages -be decreased, since each will have more work to do, but the actual -earnings of the workmen will be diminished likewise. - -Of the economy of labour itself, as a means of cheapening work, -there is no necessity for me to speak here. It is, indeed, generally -admitted, that to economize labour without proportionally extending -the markets for the products of such labour, is to deprive a certain -number of workmen of their ordinary means of living; and under the head -of casual labour so many instances have been given of this principle -that it would be wearisome to the reader were I to do other than allude -to the matter at present. There are, however, several other means of -causing a workman to do more than his ordinary quantity of work. These -are:-- - - 1. By extra supervision when the workmen are paid by the day. Of this - mode of increased production an instance has already been cited in the - account of the strapping-shops given at p. 304, vol. ii. - - 2. By increasing the workman’s interest in his work; as in piece-work, - where the payment of the operative is made proportional to the - quantity of work done by him. Of this mode examples have already been - given at p. 303, vol. ii. - - 3. By large quantities of work given out at one time; as in - “lump-work” and “contract work.” - - 4. By the domestic system of work, or giving out materials to be made - up at the homes of the workpeople. - - 5. By the middleman system of labour. - - 6. By the prevalence of small masters. - - 7. By a reduced rate of pay, as forcing operatives to labour both - longer and quicker, in order to make up the same amount of income. - -Of several of these modes of work I have already spoken, citing -facts as to their pernicious influence upon the greater portion of -those trades where they are found to prevail. I have already shown -how, by extra supervision--by increased interest in the work--as -well as by decreased pay, operatives can be made to do more work -than they otherwise would, and so be the cause, unless the market be -proportionately extended, of depriving some of their fellow-labourers -of their fair share of employment. It now only remains for me to set -forth the effect of those modes of employment which have not yet been -described, viz., the domestic system, the middleman system, and the -contract and lump system, as well as the small-master system of work. - -Let me begin with the first of the last-mentioned modes of cheapening -labour, viz., _the domestic system of work_. - -I find, by investigation, that in trades where the system of working on -the master’s premises has been departed from, and a man is allowed to -take his work home, there is invariably a tendency to cheapen labour. -These home workers, whenever opportunity offers, will use other men’s -ill-paid labour, or else employ the members of their family to enhance -their own profits. - -The domestic system, moreover, naturally induces _over-work and -Sunday-work, as well as tends to change journeymen into trading -operatives, living on the labour of their fellow-workmen_. When the -work is executed off the master’s premises, of course there are -neither definite hours nor days for labour; and the consequence is, -the generality of home workers labour early and late, Sundays as well -as week-days, availing themselves at the same time of the co-operation -of their wives and children; thus the trade becomes overstocked with -workpeople by the introduction of a vast number of new hands into -it, as well as by the overwork of the men themselves who thus obtain -employment. When I was among the tailors, I received from a journeyman -to whom I was referred by the Trades’ Society as the one best able to -explain the causes of the decline of that trade, the following lucid -account of the evils of this system of labour:-- - -“The principal cause of the decline of our trade is the employment -given to workmen at their own homes, or, in other words, to the -‘sweaters.’ The sweater is the greatest evil in the trade; as the -sweating system increases the number of hands to an almost incredible -extent--wives, sons, daughters, and extra women, all working ‘long -days’--that is, labouring from sixteen to eighteen hours per day, and -Sundays as well. By this system two men obtain as much work as would -give employment to three or four men working regular hours in the shop. -Consequently, the sweater being enabled to get the work done by women -and children at a lower price than the regular workman, obtains the -greater part of the garments to be made, while men who depend upon -the shop for their living are obliged to walk about idle. A greater -quantity of work is done under the sweating system at a lower price. I -consider that the decline of my trade dates from the change of day-work -into piece-work. According to the old system, the journeyman was paid -by the day, and consequently must have done his work under the eye of -his employer. It is true that work was given out by the master before -the change from day-work to piece-work was regularly acknowledged in -the trade. But still it was morally impossible for work to be given -out and not be paid by the piece. _Hence I date the decrease in the -wages of the workman from the introduction of piece-work, and giving -out garments to be made off the premises of the master._ The effect of -this was, that the workman making the garment, knowing that the master -could not tell whom he got to do his work for him, employed women -and children to help him, and paid them little or nothing for their -labour. This was the beginning of the sweating system. The workmen -gradually became transformed from journeymen into ‘middlemen,’ living -by the labour of others. Employers soon began to find that they could -get garments made at a less sum than the regular price, and those -tradesmen who were anxious to force their trade, by underselling their -more honourable neighbours, readily availed themselves of this means of -obtaining cheap labour.” - - * * * * * - -The _middleman system of work_ is so much akin to the domestic system, -of which, indeed, it is but a necessary result, that it forms a natural -addendum to the above. Of this indirect mode of employing workmen, I -said, in the _Chronicle_, when treating of the timber-porters at the -docks:-- - -“The middleman system is the one crying evil of the day. Whether -he goes by the name of ‘sweater,’ ‘chamber-master,’ ‘lumper,’ or -contractor, it is this _trading operative_ who is the great means of -reducing the wages of his fellow working-men. To make a profit out of -the employment of his brother operatives he must, of course, obtain -a lower class and, consequently, cheaper labour. Hence it becomes a -_business_ with him to hunt out the lowest grades of working men--that -is to say, those who are either morally or intellectually inferior in -the craft--the drunken, the dishonest, the idle, the vagabond, and -the unskilful; these are the instruments that he seeks for, because, -these being unable to obtain employment at the regular wages of the -sober, honest, industrious, and skilful portion of the trade, he can -obtain their labour at a lower rate than what is usually paid. Hence -drunkards, tramps, men without character or station, apprentices, -children--all suit him. Indeed, the more degraded the labourers, the -better they answer his purpose, for the cheaper he can get their work, -and consequently the more he can make out of it. - -“‘Boy labour or thief labour,’ said a middleman, on a large scale, -to me, ‘what do I care, so long as I can get my work done cheap?’ -That this _seeking out_ of cheap and inferior labour really takes -place, and is a necessary consequence of the middleman system, we have -merely to look into the condition of any trade where it is extensively -pursued. I have shown, in my account of the tailors’ trade printed in -the _Chronicle_, that the wives of the sweaters not only parade the -streets of London on the look-out for youths raw from the country, but -that they make periodical trips to the poorest provinces of Ireland, -in order to obtain workmen at the lowest possible rate. I have shown, -moreover, that foreigners are annually imported from the Continent -for the same purpose, and that among the chamber-masters in the shoe -trade, the child-market at Bethnal-green, as well as the workhouses, -are continually ransacked for the means of obtaining a cheaper kind of -labour. All my investigations go to prove, that it is chiefly by means -of this middleman system that the wages of the working men are reduced. -It is this contractor--this trading operative--who is invariably the -prime mover in the reduction of the wages of his fellow-workmen. He -uses the most degraded of the class as a means of underselling the -worthy and skilful labourers, and of ultimately dragging the better -down to the abasement of the worst. He cares not whether the trade to -which he belongs is already overstocked with hands, for, be those hands -as many as they may, and the ordinary wages of his craft down to bare -subsistence point, it matters not a jot to him; _he_ can live solely by -reducing them still lower, and so he immediately sets about drafting -or importing a fresh and cheaper stock into the trade. If _men_ cannot -subsist on lower prices, then he takes apprentices, or hires children; -if women of chastity cannot afford to labour at the price he gives, -then he has recourse to prostitutes; or if workmen of character and -worth refuse to work at less than the ordinary rate, then he seeks out -the moral refuse of the trade--those whom none else will employ; or -else he flies, to find labour meet for his purpose, to the workhouse -and the gaol. Backed by this cheap and refuse labour, he offers his -work at lower prices, and so keeps on reducing and reducing the wages -of his brethren, until all sink in poverty, wretchedness, and vice. Go -where we will, look into whatever poorly-paid craft we please, we shall -find this _trading operative_, this _middleman_ or contractor, at the -bottom of the degradation.” - -The “contract system” or “lump work,” as it is called, is but a -corollary, as it were, of the foregoing; for it is an essential part of -the middleman system, that the work should be obtained by the trading -operative in large quantities, so that those upon whose labour he -lives should be kept continually occupied, and the more, of course, -that he can obtain work for, the greater his profit. When a quantity -of work, usually paid for by the piece, is given out at one time, the -natural tendency is for the piece-work to pass into lump-work; that -is to say, if there be in a trade a number of distinct parts, each -requiring, perhaps, from the division of labour, a distinct hand for -the execution of it, or if each of these parts bear a different price, -it is frequently the case that the master will contract with some one -workman for the execution of the whole, agreeing to give a certain -price for the job “in the lump,” and allowing the workman to get whom -he pleases to execute it. This is the case with the piece-working -masters in the coach-building trade; but it is not essential to the -contract or lump system of work, that other hands should be employed; -the main distinction between it and piece-work being that the work is -given out in large quantities, and a certain allowance or reduction of -price effected from that cause alone. - -It is this contract or lump work which constitutes the great evil of -the carpenter’s, as well as of many other trades; and as in those -crafts, so in this, we find that the lower the wages are reduced the -greater becomes the number of trading operatives or middlemen. For it -is when workmen find the difficulty of living by their labour increased -that they take to scheming and trading upon the labour of their -fellows. In the slop trade, where the pay is the worst, these creatures -abound the most; and so in the carpenter’s trade, where the wages are -the lowest--as among the speculative builders--there the system of -contracting and sub-contracting is found in full force. - -Of this contract or lump work, I received the following account from -the foreman to a large speculating builder, when I was inquiring into -the condition of the London carpenters:-- - -“The way in which the work is done is mostly by letting and subletting. -The masters usually prefer to let work, because it takes all the -trouble off their hands. They know what they are to get for the job, -and of course they let it as much under that figure as they possibly -can, all of which is clear gain without the least trouble. How the -work is done, or by whom, it’s no matter to them, so long as they can -make what they want out of the job, and have no bother about it. Some -of our largest builders are taking to this plan, and a party who used -to have one of the largest shops in London has within the last three -years discharged all the men in his employ (he had 200 at least), -and has now merely an office, and none but clerks and accountants in -his pay. He has taken to letting his work out instead of doing it at -home. The parties to whom the work is let by the speculating builders -are generally working men, and these men in their turn look out for -other working men, who will take the job cheaper than they will; and -so I leave you, sir, and the public to judge what the party who really -executes the work gets for his labour, and what is the quality of work -that he is likely to put into it. The speculating builder generally -employs an overlooker to see that the work is done sufficiently well -to pass the surveyor. That’s all he cares about. Whether it’s done by -thieves, or drunkards, or boys, it’s no matter to him. The overlooker, -of course, sees after the first party to whom the work is let, and this -party in his turn looks after the several hands that he has sublet it -to. The first man who agrees to the job takes it in the lump, and he -again lets it to others in the piece. I have known instances of its -having been let again a third time, but this is not usual. The party -who takes the job in the lump from the speculator usually employs a -foreman, whose duty it is to give out the materials and to make working -drawings. The men to whom it is sublet only find labour, while the -‘lumper,’ or first contractor, agrees for both labour and materials. -It is usual in contract work, for the first party who takes the job -to be bound in a large sum for the due and faithful performance of -his contract. He then, in his turn, finds out a sub-contractor, who -is mostly a small builder, who will also bind himself that the work -shall be properly executed, and there the binding ceases--those parties -to whom the job is afterwards let, or sublet, employing foremen or -overlookers to see that their contract is carried out. The first -contractor has scarcely any trouble whatsoever; he merely engages a -gentleman, who rides about in a gig, to see that what is done is likely -to pass muster. The sub-contractor has a little more trouble; and so it -goes on as it gets down and down. Of course I need not tell you that -the first contractor, who does the _least_ of all, gets the _most_ of -all; while the poor wretch of a working man, who positively executes -the job, is obliged to slave away every hour, night after night, to get -a bare living out of it; and this is the contract system.” - -A tradesman, or a speculator, will contract, for a certain sum, to -complete the skeleton of a house, and render it fit for habitation. -He will sublet the flooring to some working joiner, who will, in very -many cases, take it on such terms as to allow himself, by working early -and late, the regular journeymen’s wages of 30_s._ a week, or perhaps -rather more. Now this sub-contractor cannot complete the work within -the requisite time by his own unaided industry, and he employs men to -assist him, often subletting again, and such assistant men will earn -perhaps but 4_s._ a day. It is the same with the doors, the staircases, -the balustrades, the window-frames, the room-skirtings, the closets; in -short, all parts of the building. - -The subletting is accomplished without difficulty. Old men are -sometimes employed in such work, and will be glad of any remuneration -to escape the workhouse; while stronger workmen are usually sanguine -that by extra exertion, “though the figure is low, they may make a tidy -thing out of it after all.” In this way labour is cheapened. “Lump” -work, “piece” work, work by “the job,” are all portions of the contract -system. The principle is the same. “Here is this work to be done, what -will you undertake to do it for?” - -In number after number of the _Builder_ will be found statements -headed “Blind Builders.” One firm, responding to an advertisement for -“estimates” of the building of a church, sends in an offer to execute -the work in the best style for 5000_l._ Another firm may offer to do -it for somewhere about 3000_l._ The first-mentioned firm would do the -work well, paying the “honourable” rate of wages. The under-working -firm _must_ resort to the scamping and subletting system I have -alluded to. It appears that the building of churches and chapels, of -all denominations, is one of the greatest encouragement to slop, or -scamp, or under-paid work. The same system prevails in many trades with -equally pernicious effects. - - * * * * * - -“If you will allow me,” says a correspondent, “I would state that -there is one cause of hardship and suffering to the labouring -or handicraftsman, which, to my mind, is far more productive of -distress and poor-grinding than any other, or than all other causes -put together: I allude to the _contract_ system, and especially in -reference to printing. Depend upon it, sir, the father of wickedness -himself could not devise a more malevolent or dishonest course than -that now very generally pursued by those who should be, of all others, -the friends of the poor and working man. The Government and the great -West-end clubs have reduced their transactions to such a low level -in this respect that it seems to be the only question with them, Who -will work lowest or supply goods at the lowest figure? And this, too, -totally irrespective of the circumstance whether it may not reduce -wages or bankrupt the contractor. No matter whether a party who has -executed the work required for years be noted for paying a fair and -remunerating price to his workmen or sub-tradesmen, and bears the -character of a responsible and trustworthy man--all this is as nothing; -for somebody, who may be, for aught that is cared, deficient in all -these points, will do what is needful at _so much_ less; and then, -unless willing to reduce the wage of his workpeople, the long-employed -tradesman has but the alternative of losing his business or cheating -his creditors. And then, to give a smack to the whole affair, the -‘Stationery Office’ of the Government, or the committee of the club, -will congratulate themselves and their auditors on the fact that a -diminution in expenses has been effected; a result commemorated perhaps -by an addition of salary to the officials in the former case, and of a -‘cordial vote of thanks’ in the latter. I do not write ‘without book,’ -I can assure you, on these matters; for I have long and earnestly -watched the subject, and could fill many a page with the details.” - - * * * * * - -Of the ruinous effects of the contract system in connection with the -army clothing, Mr. Pearse, the army clothier, gave the following -evidence before the Select Committee on Army and Navy Appointments. - -“When the contract for soldier’s great coats was opened, Mr. Maberly -took it at the same price (13_s._) in December, 1808; this shows the -effect of wild competition. In February following, Esdailes’ house, -who were accoutrement makers, and not clothiers, got knowledge of -what was Mr. Maberly’s price, and _they_ tendered at 12_s._ 6-1/2_d._ -a month afterwards; it was evidently then a struggle for the price, -and how the quality the least good (if we may use such a term) could -pass. Mr. Maberly did not like to be outbidden by Esdailes; _Esdailes -stopped subsequently_, and Mr. Maberly bid 12_s._ 6_d._ three months -after, and Mr. Dixon bid again, and got the contract for 11_s._ 3_d._ -in October, and in December of that year another public tender took -place, and Messrs. A. and D. Cock took it at 11_s._ 5-1/2_d._, _and -they subsequently broke_. It went on in this sort of way,--changing -hands every two or every three months, by bidding against each other. -Presently, though it was calculated that the great coat was to wear -four years, it was found that _those great coats were so inferior -in quality, that they wore only two years_, and representations were -accordingly made to the Commander-in-Chief, when it was found necessary -that great care should be taken to go back to the original good quality -that had been established by the Duke of York.” - -Mr. Shaw, another army clothier, and a gentleman with whose friendship, -I am proud to say, I have been honoured since the commencement of -my inquiries--a gentleman actuated by the most kindly and Christian -impulses, and of whom the workpeople speak in terms of the highest -admiration and regard; this gentleman, impressed with a deep sense of -the evils of the contract system to the under-paid and over-worked -operatives of his trade, addressed a letter to the Chairman of the -Committee on Army, Navy, and Ordnance Estimates, from which the -following are extracts:-- - -“My Lord, my object more particularly is, to request your lordship will -submit to the committee, _as an evidence of the evils of contracts_, -the great coat sent herewith, made similar to those supplied to the -army, and I would respectfully appeal to them as men, gentlemen, _as -Christians_, whether _fivepence_, the price now being given to poor -females for making up those coats, is a fair and just price for six, -seven, and eight hours’ work.... My Lord, _the misery amongst the -workpeople is most distressing_--of a mass of people, _willing to -work_, who cannot obtain it, and of a mass, especially women, most -iniquitously paid for their labour, who are in a state of oppression -disgraceful to the Legislature, the Government, the Church, and the -consuming public.... I would, therefore, most humbly and earnestly -call upon your lordship, and the other members of the committee, to -recommend an _immediate stop to be put to the system of contracting_ -now pursued by the different government departments, as being one of -false economy, as a system most _oppressive to the poor_, and _being -most injurious_, in every way, to the best _interests of the country_.” - -In another place the same excellent gentleman says:-- - -“I could refer to the screwing down of other things by the government -authorities, but the above will be sufficient to show _how cruelly the -workpeople employed in making up this clothing are oppressed; and some -of the men will tell you they are tired of life. Last week I found one -man making a country police coat, who said his wife and child were out -begging_.” - - * * * * * - -The last mentioned of the several modes of cheapening labour is the -“_small-master system_” of work, that is to say, the operatives taking -to make up materials on their own account rather than for capitalist -employers. In every trade where there are _small_ masters, trades into -which it requires but little capital to embark, there is certain to be -a cheapening of labour. Such a man works himself, and to get work, to -meet the exigences of the rent and the demands of the collectors of the -parliamentary and parochial taxes, he will often underwork the very -journeymen whom he occasionally employs, doing “the job” in such cases -with the assistance of his family and apprentices, at a less rate of -profit than the amount of journeymen’s wages. - -Concerning these garret masters I said, when treating of the Cabinet -trade, in the _Chronicle_, “The cause of the extraordinary decline of -wages in the Cabinet trade (even though the hands decreased and the -work increased to an unprecedented extent) will be found to consist -in the increase that has taken place within the last 20 years of what -are called ‘garret masters’ in the cabinet trade. These garret masters -are a class of small ‘trade-working masters,’ the same as the ‘chamber -masters’ in the shoe trade, supplying both capital and labour. They are -in manufacture what ‘the peasant proprietors’ are in agriculture--their -own employers and their own workmen. There is, however, this one marked -distinction between the two classes--the garret master cannot, like -the peasant proprietor, _eat_ what he produces; the consequence is, -that he is obliged to convert each article into food immediately he -manufactures it--no matter what the state of the market may be. The -capital of the garret master being generally sufficient to find him in -materials for the manufacture of only one article at a time, and his -savings being but barely enough for his subsistence while he is engaged -in putting those materials together, he is compelled, the moment the -work is completed, to part with it for whatever he can get. He cannot -afford to keep it even a day, for to do so is generally to remain a -day unfed. Hence, if the market be at all slack, he has to force a -sale by offering his goods at the lowest possible price. What wonder, -then, that the necessities of such a class of individuals should have -created a special race of employers, known by the significant name of -‘slaughter-house men’--or that these, being aware of the inability -of the ‘garret masters’ to hold out against any offer, no matter how -slight a remuneration it affords for their labour, should continually -lower and lower their prices, until the entire body of the competitive -portion of the cabinet trade is sunk in utter destitution and misery? -Moreover, it is well known how strong is the stimulus among peasant -proprietors, or, indeed, any class working for themselves, to extra -production. So it is, indeed, with the garret masters; their industry -is almost incessant, and hence a greater quantity of work is turned -out by them, and continually forced into the market, than there would -otherwise be. What though there be a brisk and a slack season in the -cabinet-maker’s trade as in the majority of others?--slack or brisk, -the garret masters must produce the same excessive quantity of goods. -In the hope of extricating himself from his overwhelming poverty, he -toils on, producing more and more--and yet the more he produces the -more hopeless does his position become; for the greater the stock that -he thrusts into the market, the lower does the price of his labour -fall, until at last, he and his whole family work for less than half -what he himself could earn a few years back by his own unaided labour.” - -The small-master system of work leads, like the domestic system, with -which, indeed, it is intimately connected, to the employment of -wives, children, and apprentices, as a means of assistance and extra -production--for as the prices decline so do the small masters strive by -further labour to compensate for their loss of income. - - * * * * * - -Such, then, are the several modes of work by which labour is cheapened. -There are, as we have seen, but two ways of _directly_ effecting this, -viz., first by making men do more work for the same pay, and secondly, -by making them do the same work for less pay. The way in which men are -made to do more, it has been pointed out, is, by causing them either to -work longer or quicker, or else by employing fewer hands in proportion -to the work; or engaging them only for such time as their services are -required, and discharging them immediately afterwards. These constitute -the several modes of economizing labour, which lowers the rate of -remuneration (the ratio of the pay to the work) rather than the pay -itself. The several means by which this result is attained are termed -“systems of work, production, or engagement,” and such are those above -detailed. - -Now it is a necessity of these several systems, though the actual -amount of remuneration is not directly reduced by them, that a cheaper -labour should be obtained for carrying them out. Thus, in contract -or lump work, perhaps, the price may not be immediately lowered; the -saving to the employer consisting chiefly in supervision, he having in -such a case only one man to look to instead of perhaps a hundred. The -contractor, or lumper, however, is differently situated; he, in order -to reap any benefit from the contract, must, since he cannot do the -whole work himself, employ others to help him, and to reap any benefit -from the contract, this of course must be done at a lower price than he -himself receives; so it is with the middleman system, where a profit -is derived from the labour of other operatives; so, again, with the -domestic system of work, where the several members of the family, or -cheaper labourers, are generally employed as assistants; and even so is -it with the small-master system, where the labour of apprentices and -wives and children is the principal means of help. Hence the operatives -adopting these several systems of work are rather the instruments by -which cheap labour is obtained than the cheap labourers themselves. It -is true that a sweater, a chamber master, or garret master, a lumper or -contractor, or a home worker, generally works cheaper than the ordinary -operatives, but this he does chiefly by the cheap labourers he employs, -and then, finding that he is able to underwork the rest of the trade, -and that the more hands he employs the greater becomes his profit, he -offers to do work at less than the usual rate. It is not a necessity -of the system that the middleman operative, the domestic worker, the -lumper, or garret master should be himself underpaid, but simply -that he should employ others who are so, and it is thus that such -systems of work tend to cheapen the labour of those trades in which -they are found to prevail. Who, then, are the cheap labourers?--who -the individuals, by means of whose services the sweater, the smaller -master, the lumper, and others, is enabled to underwork the rest of his -trade?--what the general characteristics of those who, in the majority -of handicrafts, are found ready to do the same work for less pay, and -how are these usually distinguished from such as obtain the higher rate -of remuneration? - -_The cheap workmen_ in all trades, I find, are divisible into three -classes:-- - - 1. The unskilful. - 2. The untrustworthy. - 3. The inexpensive. - -First, as regards the _unskilful_. Long ago it has been noticed -how frequently boys were put to trades to which their tastes and -temperaments were antagonistic. Gay, who in his quiet, unpretending -style often elicited a truth, tells how a century and a half ago the -generality of parents never considered for what business a boy was best -adapted-- - - “But ev’n in infancy decree - What this or t’ other son shall be.” - -A boy thus brought up to a craft for which he entertains a dislike -can hardly become a proficient in it. At the present time thousands -of parents are glad to have their sons reared to _any_ business which -their means or opportunities place within their reach, even though -the lad be altogether unsuited to the craft. The consequence is, that -these boys often grow up to be unskilful workmen. There are technical -terms for them in different trades, but perhaps the generic appellation -is “muffs.” Such workmen, however well conducted, can rarely obtain -employment in a good shop at good wages, and are compelled, therefore, -to accept second, third, and fourth-rate wages, and are often driven to -slop work. - -Other causes may be cited as tending to form unskilful workmen: -the neglect of masters or foremen, or their incapacity to teach -apprentices; irregular habits in the learner; and insufficient practice -during a master’s paucity of employment. I am assured, moreover, that -hundreds of mechanics yearly come to London _from the country parts_, -whose skill is altogether inadequate to the demands of the “honourable -trade.” Of course, during the finishing of their education they can -only work for inferior shops at inferior wages; hence another cause of -cheap labour. Of this I will cite an instance: a bootmaker, who for -years had worked for first-rate West-end shops, told me that when he -came to London from a country town he was sanguine of success, because -he knew that he was a _ready_ man (a quick workman.) He very soon -found out, however, he said, that as he aspired to do the best work, -he “had his business to learn all over again;” and until he attained -the requisite skill, he worked for “just what he could get:” he was a -cheap, because then an unskilful, labourer. - -There is, moreover, the cheaper labour of _apprentices_, the great prop -of many a slop-trader; for as such traders disregard all the niceties -of work, as they disregard also the solidity and perfect finish of any -work (finishing it, as it was once described to me, “just to the eye”), -a lad is soon made useful, and his labour remunerative to his master, -as far as slop remuneration goes, which, though small in a small -business, is wealth in a “monster business.” - -There are, again, the “_improvers_.” These are the most frequent in the -dress-making and millinery business, as young women find it impossible -to form a good connection among a wealthier class of ladies in any -country town, unless the “patronesses” are satisfied that their skill -and taste have been perfected in London. In my inquiry (in the course -of two letters in the _Morning Chronicle_) into the condition of the -workwomen in this calling, I was told by a retired dressmaker, who had -for upwards of twenty years carried on business in the neighbourhood -of Grosvenor-square, that she had sometimes met with “improvers” so -tasteful and quick, from a good provincial tuition, that they had -really little or nothing to learn in London. And yet their services -were secured for one, and oftener for two years, merely for board and -lodging, while others employed in the same establishment had not only -board and lodging, but handsome salaries. The improver’s, then, is -generally a cheap labour, and often a very cheap labour too. The same -form of cheap labour prevails in the carpenter’s trade. - -There is, moreover, the labour of _old men_. A tailor, for instance, -who may have executed the most skilled work of his craft, in his -old age, or before the period of old age, finds his eyesight fail -him,--finds his tremulous fingers have not a full and rapid mastery -of the needle, and he then labours, at greatly reduced rates of -payment, on the making of soldiers’ clothing--“sanc-work,”[56] as it is -called--or on any ill-paid and therefore ill-wrought labour. - -The inferior, as regards the quality of the work, and under-paid class -of _women_, in tailoring, for example, again, cheapen labour. It is -cheapened, also, by the employment of _Irishmen_ (in, perhaps, all -branches of skilled or unskilled labour), and of _foreigners_, more -especially of Poles, who are inferior workmen to the English, and who -will work _very_ cheap, thus supplying a low-price labour to those who -seek it. - -I may remark further, that if a first-rate workman be driven to slop -work, he soon loses his skill; he can only work slop; this has been -shown over and over again, and so _his_ labour becomes cheap in the -mart. - - * * * * * - -2. Of _Untrustworthy Labour_ (as a cause of cheap labour) I need not -say much. It is obvious that a drunken, idle, or dishonest workman or -workwoman, when pressed by want, will and must labour, not for the -recompense the labour merits, but for whatever pittance an employer -will accord. There is no reliance to be placed in him. Such a man -cannot “hold out” for terms, for he is perhaps starving, and it is -known that “he cannot be depended upon.” In the sweep’s trade many of -those who work at a lower rate than the rest of the trade are men who -have lost their regular work by dishonesty. - - * * * * * - -3. The _Inexpensive class_ of workpeople are very numerous. They -consist of three sub-divisions:-- - - (_a._) Those who have been accustomed to a coarser kind of diet, and - who, consequently, requiring less, can afford to work for less. - - (_b._) Those who derive their subsistence from other sources, and who, - consequently, do not live by their labour. - - (_c._) Those who are in receipt of certain “aids to their wages,” or - who have other means of living beside their work. - -Of course these causes can alone have influence where the wages are -_minimized_ or reduced to the lowest ebb of subsistence, in which case -they become so many means of driving down the price of labour still -lower. - -_a._ Those who, being what is designated hard-reared that is to say, -accustomed to a scantier or coarser diet, and who, therefore, “can do” -with a less quantity or less expensive quality of food than the average -run of labourers, can of course live at a lower cost, and so _afford_ -to work at a lower rate. Among such (unskilled) labourers are the -peasants from many of the counties, who seek to amend their condition -by obtaining employment in the towns. I will instance the agricultural -labourers of Dorsetshire. - -“Bread and potatoes,” writes Mr. Thornton, in his work on -Over-Population and its Remedy, p. 21, “do really form the staple of -their food. As for meat, most of them would not know its taste, if, -once or twice _in the course of their lives_,--on the squire’s having -a son and heir born to him, or on the young gentleman’s coming of -age,--they were not regaled with a dinner of what the newspapers call -‘old English fare.’ Some of them contrive to have a little bacon, in -the proportion, it seems, of _half a pound a week to a dozen persons_, -but they more commonly use fat to give the potatoes a relish; and, as -one of them said to Mr. Austin (a commissioner), ‘they don’t _always_ -go without cheese.’” - -With many poor Irishmen the rearing has been still harder. I had some -conversation with an Irish rubbish-carter, who had been thrown out -of work (and was entitled to no allowance from any trade society) in -consequence of a strike by Mr. Myers’s men. On my asking him how he -subsisted in Ireland, “Will, thin, sir,” he said, “and it’s God’s -truth, I once lived for days on green things I picked up by the road -side, and the turnips, and that sort of mate I stole from the fields. -It was called staling, but it was the hunger, ’deed was it. That was in -the county Limerick, sir, in the famine and ’viction times; and, glory -be to God, I ’scaped when others didn’t.” - -I may observe that the chief local paper, the _Limerick and Clare -Examiner_, published twice a week, gave, twice a week, at the period of -“the famine and evictions,” statements similar to that of my informant. - -Now, would not a poor man, reared as the Limerick peasant I -have spoken of, who was actually driven to eat the grass, which -biblical history shows was once a signal punishment to a great -offender--would not such a man work for the veriest dole, rather than -again be subjected to the pangs of hunger? In my inquiries among the -costermongers, one of them said of the Irish in his trade, and without -any bitterness, “they’ll work for nothing, and live on less.” The -meaning is obvious enough, although the assertion is, of course, a -contradiction in itself. - -“This department of labour,” says Mr. Baines, in his History of the -Hand-Loom Weavers, is “greatly overstocked, and the price necessarily -falls. The evil is aggravated by the multitudes of Irish who have -flocked into Lancashire, some of whom, having been linen weavers, -naturally resort to the loom, and others learn to weave as the easiest -employment they can adopt. Accustomed to a wretched mode of living in -their own country, they are contented with wages that would starve an -English labourer. They have, in fact, so lowered the _rate_ of wages as -to drive many of the English out of the employment, and to drag down -those who remain in it to their own level.” - -_b._ Those who derive their subsistence from other sources can, of -course, afford to work cheaper than those who have to live by their -labour. To this class belongs the labour of wives and children, who, -being supposed to be maintained by the toil of the husband, are never -paid “living wages” for what they do; and hence the misery of the -great mass of needlewomen, widows, unmarried and friendless females, -and the like, who, having none to assist them, are forced to starve -upon the pittance they receive for their work. The labour of those who -are in prisons, workhouses, and asylums, and who consequently have -their subsistence found them in such places, as well as the work of -prostitutes, who obtain their living by other means than work, all come -under the category of those who can afford to labour at a lower rate -than such as are condemned to toil for an honest living. It is the same -with apprentices and “improvers,” for whose labour the instruction -received is generally considered to be either a sufficient or partial -recompense, and who consequently look to other means for their support. -Under the same head, too, may be cited the labour of amateurs, that -is to say, of persons who either are not, or who are too proud to -acknowledge themselves, regular members of the trade at which they -work. Such is the case with very many of the daughters of tradesmen, -and of many who are considered _genteel_ people. These young women, -residing with their parents, and often in comfortable homes, at no cost -to themselves, will, and do, undersell the regular needlewomen; the one -works merely for pocket-money (often to possess herself of some article -of finery), while the other works for what is called “the bare life.” - -_c._ The last-mentioned class, or those who are in possession of what -may be called “aids to wages,” are differently circumstanced. Such are -the men who have other employment besides that for which they accept -less than the ordinary pay, as is the case with those who attend at -gentlemen’s houses for one or two hours every morning, cleaning boots, -brushing clothes, &c., and who, having the remainder of the day at -their own disposal, can afford to work at any calling cheaper than -others, because not solely dependent upon it for their living. - -The army and navy pensioners (non-commissioned officers and privates) -were, at one period, on the disbanding of the militia and other forces, -a very numerous body, but it was chiefly the military pensioners -whose position had an effect upon the labour of the country. The -naval pensioners found employment as fishermen, or in some avocation -connected with the sea. The military pensioners, however, were men -who, after a career of soldiership, were not generally disposed to -settle down into the drudgery of regular work, even if it were in -their power to do so; and so, as they always had their pensions -to depend upon, they were a sort of universal jobbers, and jobbed -cheaply. At the present time, however, this means of cheap labour is -greatly restricted, compared with what was the case, the number of the -pensioners being considerably diminished. Many of the army pensioners -turn the wheels for turners at present. - -The allotment of gardens, which yield a partial support to the -allottee, are another means of cheap labour. The allotment demands a -certain portion of time, but is by no means a thorough employment, -but merely an “aid,” and consequently a _means_, to low wages. Such a -man has the advantage of obtaining his potatoes and vegetables at the -cheapest rate, and so can afford to work cheaper than other men of his -class. It was the same formerly with those who received “relief” under -the old Poor-Law. - -And even under the present system it has been found that the same -practice is attended with the same result. In the Sixth Annual Report -of the Poor-Law Commissioners, 1840, at p. 31, there are the following -remarks on the subject:-- - -“Whilst upon the subject of relief to widows in aid of wages, we must -not omit to bring under your Lordship’s notice an illustration of the -_depressing effect_ which is produced by the practice of giving relief -in aid of wages to widows upon the earnings of females. Colonel A’Court -states:-- - -“‘As regards females, the instance to which I have alluded presents -itself in the Portsea Island Union, where, from the insufficiency of -workhouse accommodation, as well as from benevolent feelings, small -allowances of 1_s._ 6_d._ or 2_s._ a week are given to widows with -or without small children, or to married women deserted by their -husbands. _Having this certain income, however small, they are enabled -to work at lower wages than those who do not possess this advantage._ -The consequence is, that competition has enabled the shirt and stay -manufacturers, who abound in the Union, and who furnish in great -measure the London as well as many foreign markets with these articles -of their trade, to get their work done at the extraordinary low prices -of--stays, complete, 9_d._; shirts, from 1_s._ to 1_s._ 6_d._ per dozen. - -“‘The women all declare that they cannot possibly, after working from -twelve to fifteen hours per day, earn more than 1_s._ 6_d._ per week. -The manufacturers assert that, by steady work, 4_s._ to 6_s._ a week -may be earned under ordinary circumstances. - -“‘In the meantime _the demand for workwomen increases_, and it is by no -means unusual to see hand-bills posted over the town requiring from 500 -to 1000 additional stitchers.’” - -Such, then, is the character of the cheap workers in all trades; go -where we will, we shall find the low-priced labour of the trade to -consist of either one or other of the three classes above-mentioned; -while the _means_ by which this labour is brought into operation will -be generally by one of the “systems of work” before specified. - - * * * * * - -The cheap labour of the rubbish-carters’ trade appears to be a -consequence of two distinct antecedents, viz., casual labour and -the prevalence of the contract system among builder’s work. The -small-master system also appears to have some influence upon it. - -First as regards the influence of casual labour in reducing the -ordinary rate of wages. - -The tables given at p. 290, vol. ii., showing the wages paid to the -rubbish-carters, present what appears, and indeed is, a strange -discrepancy of payment to the labourers in rubbish-carting. About -three-fourths of the rubbish-carters throughout London receive 18_s._ -weekly, when in work; in Hampstead, however, the rate of their wages -is (uniformly) 20_s._ a week; in Lambeth (but less uniformly), it is -19_s._; in Wandsworth, 17_s._; in Islington, 16_s._; and in Greenwich, -14_s._ and 12_s._ The character of the work, whether executed for -12_s._ or 20_s._ weekly, is the same; why, then, can a rubbish-carter, -who works at Hampstead, earn 8_s._ a week more than one who works at -Greenwich? An employer of rubbish-carters, and of similar labourers, -on a large scale, a gentleman thoroughly conversant with the subject -in all its industrial bearings, accounts for the discrepancy in this -manner:-- - -After the corn and the hop-harvests have terminated, there is always an -influx of unskilled labourers into Gravesend, Woolwich, and Greenwich. -These are the men who, from the natural bent of their dispositions, or -from the necessity of their circumstances, resort to the casual labour -afforded by the revolution of the seasons, when to gather the crops -before the weather may render the harvest precarious and its produce -unsound, is a matter of paramount necessity, and the increase of hands -employed during this season is, as a consequence, proportionately -great. The chief scene of such labour in the neighbourhood of the -metropolis, is in the county of Kent; and on the cessation of this -work, of course there is a large amount of labour “turned adrift,” -to seek, the next few days, for any casual employment that may “turn -up.” In this way, I am assured, a large amount of cheap and unskilled -labour is being constantly placed at the command of those masters who, -so to speak, occupy the line of march to London, and are, therefore, -first applied to for employment by casual labourers; who, when engaged, -are employed as inferior, or unskilful, workmen, at an inferior rate of -remuneration. Greenwich may be looked upon as the first stage or halt -for casual labourers, on their way to London. - -My informant assured me, as the result of his own observations, that -an English labourer would, as a general rule, execute more work by -one-sixth, in a week, than an Irish labourer (a large proportion of -the casual hands are Irish); that is, the extent of work which would -occupy the Irishman six, would occupy the Englishman but five days, -were it so calculated. The Englishman was, however, usually more -skilled and persevering, and far more to be depended upon. So different -was the amount of work, even in rubbish-carting, between an able and -experienced hand and one unused to the toil, or one inadequate from -want of alertness or bodily strength, or any other cause, to its full -and quick execution, that two “good” men in a week have done as much -work as three indifferent hands. Thus two men at 18_s._ weekly each are -as cheap (only employers cannot always see it), when they are thorough -masters of their business, as three unready hands at 12_s._ a week -each. The misfortune, however, is, that the 12_s._ a week men have a -tendency to reduce the 16_s._ to their level. - -With regard to the difference between the wages of Hampstead and -Greenwich, I am informed that stationary working rubbish-carters -are not too numerous in Hampstead, which is considered as rather -“out of the way;” and as that metropolitan suburb is surrounded in -every direction by pasture-land and wood-land, it is not in the -line of resort of the class of men who seek the casual labour in -harvesting, &c., of which I have spoken; it is rarely visited by them, -and consequently, the regular hands are less interfered with than -elsewhere, and wages have not been deteriorated. - -The mode of work among the scurf labourers differs somewhat from -that of the honourable part of the trade; the work executed by the -scurf masters being for the most part on a more limited scale than -that of the others. To meet the demands of builders or of employers -generally, when “time” is an object, demands the use of relays of men, -and of strong horses. This demand the smaller or scurf master cannot -always meet. He may find men, but not always horses and carts, and -he will often enough undertake work beyond his means and endeavour -to aggrandise his profits by screwing his labourers. The _hours of -scurf-employed labour_ are nominally the same as the regular trade, but -as an Irish carter said, “it’s ralely the hours the masther plases, and -they’re often as long as it’s light.” The _scurf labourer is often paid -by the day_, with “a day’s hire, and no notice beyond.” I am informed -that scurf labourers generally work an hour a day, without extra -remuneration, longer than those in the honourable trade. - -The rubbish-carters employed by the scurf masters are not, as a body, I -am assured, so badly paid as they were a few years back. It is rarely -that labouring men can advance any feasible reason for the changes in -their trade. - -_One of the main causes of the deteriorated wages_ of the -rubbish-carters is the system of contracting and subletting. This, -however, is but a branch of the ramified system of subletting in the -construction of the “scamped” houses of the speculative builders. The -building of such houses is sublet, literally from cellar to chimney. -The rubbish-carting may be contracted for at a certain sum. The -contractor may sublet it to men who will do it for one-fourth less -perhaps, and who may sublet the labour in their turn. For instance, -the calculation may be founded on the working men’s receiving 15_s._ -weekly. A contractor, a man possessing a horse, perhaps, and a couple -of carts, and hiring another horse, will undertake it on the knowledge -of his being able to engage men at 12_s._ or 13_s._ weekly, and so -obtain a profit; indeed the reduction of price in such cases must all -come out of the labour. - -This subletting, I say, is but a small part of a gigantic system, -and it is an unquestionable cause of the grinding down of the -rubbish-carters’ wages, and that by a class who have generally been -working men themselves, and risen to be the owners of one or two carts -and horses. - -From one of these men, now a working carter, I had the following -account, which further illustrates the mode of labour as well as of -employment. - -“I got a little a-head,” he stated, “from railway jobbing and such -like, and my father-in-law, as soon as I got married, made me a present -of 20_l._ unexpected. I started for myself, thinking to get on by -degrees, and get a fresh horse and cart every year. But it couldn’t be -done, sir. If I offered to take a contract to cart the rubbish and dig -it, a builder would say,--‘I can’t wait; you haven’t carts and horses -enough from your own account, and I can’t wait. If you have to hire -them I can do that myself.’ I was too honest, sir, in telling the plain -truth, or I might have got more jobs. It’s not a good trade in a small -way, for if your horses aren’t at work, they’re eating their heads off, -and you’re fretting your heart out. Then I got to do sub-contracting, -as you call it. No, it weren’t that, it was under-working. I’d go to -Mr. V---- as I knew, and say, ‘You’re on such a place, sir, have you -room for me?’ ‘I think not,’ he’d say, ‘I’ve only the regular thing -and no advantages--10_s._ 6_d._ for a day’s work, horse and cart, or -4_s._ a load.’ Those are the regular terms. Then I’d say, ‘Well, sir, -I’ll do it for 8_s._ 6_d._, and be my own carman;’ and so perhaps I’d -get the job, and masters often say: ‘I know I shall lose at 10_s._ -6_d._, but if I don’t, you shall have something over.’ Get anything -over! Of course not, sir. I could have lived if I had constant work -for two horses and carts, for I would have got a cheap man; such as me -must get cheap men to drive the second cart, and under my own eye, -whenever I could; but one of my poor horses broke his leg, and had to -be sent to the knacker’s, and I sold the other and my carts, and have -worked ever since as a labouring man; mainly at pipe-work. O, yes, and -rubbish-carting. I get 18_s._ a week now, but not regular. - -“Well, sir, I’m sure I can’t say, and I think no man could say, how -much there’s doing in sub-contracting. If I’m at work in Cannon-street, -I don’t know what’s doing at Notting-hill, or beyond Bow and Stratford. -No, I’m satisfied there’s not so much of it as there was, but it’s done -so on the sly; who knows how much is done still, or how little? It’s a -system as may be carried on a long time, and is carried on, as far as -men’s labour goes, but it’s different where there’s horses, and stable -rent. They can’t be screwed, or under-fed, beyond a certain pitch, or -they couldn’t work at all, and so there’s not as much under-work about -horse-labour.” - -These small men are among the scurf and petty rubbish-carters, and are -often the means of depressing the class to which they have belonged. - -The employment in the honourable trade at rubbish-carting would be -one of the best among unskilled labourers, were it continuous. But it -is not continuous, and three-fourths of those engaged in it have only -six months’ work at it in the year. In the scurf-masters’ employ, the -work is really “casual,” or, as I heard it quite as often described, -“chance.” In both departments of this trade, the men out of work look -for a job in scavagery, and very generally in night-work, or, indeed, -in any labour that offers. The Irish rubbish-carters will readily -become hawkers of apples, oranges, walnuts, and even nuts, when out of -employ, so working in concert with their wives. I heard of only four -instances of a similar resource by the English rubbish-carters. - -What I have said of the education, religion, politics, concubinage, -&c., &c., of the better-paid rubbish-carters would have but to be -repeated, if I described those of the under-paid. The latter may be -more reckless when they have the means of enjoyment, but their diet, -amusements, and expenditure would be the same, were their means -commensurate. As it is, they sometimes live very barely and have hardly -any amusements at their command. Their dinners, when single men, are -often bread and a saveloy; when married, sometimes tea and bread and -butter, and occasionally some “block ornaments;” the Irish being the -principal consumers of cheap fish. - -The labour of the wives of the rubbish-carters is far more frequently -that of char-women than of needle-women, for the great majority -of these women before their marriage were servant-maids. All the -information I received was concurrent in that respect. The wife of a -carman who keeps a chandler’s shop near the Edgeware-road, greatly -resorted to by the class to which her husband belonged, told me that -out of somewhere about 25 wives of rubbish-carters or similar workmen, -whom she knew, 20 had been domestic servants; what the others had been -she did not know. - -“I can tell you, sir,” said the woman, “charing is far better than -needle-work; far. If a young woman has conducted herself well in -service, she can get charing, and then if she conducts herself well -again, she makes good friends. That’s, of course, if they’re honest, -sir. I know it from experience. My husband--before we were able to open -this shop--was in the hospital a long time, and I went out charing, -and did far better than a sister I have, who is a capital shirt-maker. -There’s broken victuals, sometimes, for your children. It’s a hard -world, sir, but there’s a many good people in it.” - -One woman (before mentioned) earned not less than 5_s._ weekly in -superior shirt-making, as it was described to me, which was evidently -looked upon as a handsome remuneration for such toil. Another earned -3_s._ 6_d._; another 2_s._ 6_d._; and others, with uncertain employ, -2_s._, 1_s._ 6_d._, and in some weeks nothing. Needle-work, however, -is, I am informed, not the work of one-tenth of the rubbish-carters’ -wives, whatever the earnings of the husband. From all I could learn, -too, the wives of the under-paid rubbish-carters earned more, by -from 10 to 20 per cent., than those of the better-paid. The earnings -of a charwoman in average employ, as regards the wives of the -rubbish-carters, is about 4_s._ weekly, without the exhausting toil of -the needle-woman, and with the advantage of sometimes receiving broken -meat, dripping, fat, &c., &c. The wives of the Irish labourers in this -trade are often all the year street-sellers, some of wash-leathers, -some of cabbage-nets, and some of fruit, clearing perhaps from 6_d._ to -9_d._ a day, if used to street-trading, as the majority of them are. - -The under-paid labourers in this trade are chiefly poor Irishmen. The -Irish workmen in this branch of the trade have generally been brought -up “on the land,” as they call it, in their own country, and after the -sufferings of many of them during the famine, 12_s._ a week is regarded -as “a rise in the world.” - -From one of this class I learned the following particulars. He seemed a -man of 26 or 28:-- - -“I was brought up on the land, sir,” he said, “not far from Cullin, in -the county Wexford. I lived with my father and mother, and shure we -were badly off. Shure, thin, we were. Father and mother--the Heavens be -their bed--died one soon after another, and some friends raised me the -manes to come to this country. Well, thin, indeed, sir, and I can’t say -how they raised them, God reward them. I got to Liverpool, and walked -to London, where I had some relations. I sold oranges in the strates -the first day I was in London. God help me, I was glad to do anything -to get a male’s mate. I’ve lived on 6_d._ a-day sometimes. I have -indeed. There was 2_d._ for the lodging, and 4_d._ for the mate, the -tay and bread and butter. Did I live harder than that in Ireland, your -honour? Well, thin, I have. I’ve lived on a dish of potatoes that might -cost a penny there, where things is bhutiful and chape. Not like this -country. No, no. I wouldn’t care to go back. I have no friends there -now. Thin I got ingaged by a man--yis, he was a rubbish-carter--to -help him to fill his cart, and then we shot it on some new garden -grounds, and had to shovel it about to make the grounds livil, afore -the top soil was put on, for the bhutiful flowers and the gravel walks. -Tim--yis, he was a counthryman of mine, but a Cor-rk man--said he’d -made a bad bargain, for he was bad off, and he only clared 4_d._ a -load, and he’d divide it wid me. We did six loads in a day, and I got -1_s._ every night for a wake. This was a rise. But one Sunday evening -I was standing talking with people as lived in the same coort, and -I tould how I was helping Tim. And two Englishmen came to find four -men as they wanted for work, and ould Ragin (Regan) tould them what I -was working for. And one of ’em said, I was ‘a b---- Irish fool,’ and -ould Ragin said so, and words came on, and thin there was a fight, and -the pelleece came, and thin the fight was harder. I was taken to the -station, and had a month. I had two black eyes next morning, but was -willin’ to forget and forgive. No, I’m not fond of fightin’. I’m a -paceable man, glory be to God, and I think I was put on. Oh, yis, and -indeed thin, your honour, it was a fair fight.” - -I inquired of an English rubbish-carter as to these fair fights. He -knew nothing of the one in question, but had seen such fights. They -were usually among the Irish themselves, but sometimes Englishmen were -“drawn into them.” “Fair fights! sir,” he said, “why the Irishes don’t -stand up to you like men. They don’t fight like Christians, sir; not a -bit of it. They kick, and scratch, and bite, and tear, like devils, or -cats, or women. They’re soon settled if you can get an honest knock at -them, but it isn’t easy.” - -“I sarved my month,” continued my Irish informant, “and it ain’t a bad -place at all, the prison. I tould the gintleman that had charge of us, -that I was a Roman Catholic, God be praised, and couldn’t go to his -prayers. ‘O very well, Pat,’ says he. And next day the praste came, and -we were shown in to him, and very angry he was, and said our conduc’ -was a disgrace to religion, and to our counthry, and to him. Do I think -he was right, sir? God knows he was, or he wouldn’t have said so. - -“I hadn’t been out of prison two hours before I was hired for a job, at -10_s._ a week. It was in the city, and I carried old bricks and rubbish -along planks, from the inside of a place as was pulled down; but the -outside, all but the roof, was standin’ until the windor frames, and -the door posts, and what other timbers there was, was sould. It was -dreadful hard work, carrying the basket of rubbish on your back to the -cart. The dust came through, and stuck to my neck, for I was wet all -over wid sweatin’ so. Every man was allowed a pint of beer a day, and -I thought nivver anything was so sweet. I don’t know who gave it. The -masther, I suppose. Will, thin, sir, I don’t know who was the masther; -it was John Riley as ingaged me, but _he’s_ no masther. Yis, thin, -and I’ve been workin’ that way ivver since. I’ve sometimes had 14_s._ -a week, and sometimes 10_s._, and sometimes 12_s._ A man like me -must take what he can get, and I will take it. I’ve been out of work -sometimes, but not so much as some, for I’m young and strong. No, I -can’t save no money, and I have nothing just now to save it for. When -I’m out of work, I sell fruit in the streets.” - -This statement, then, as regards the Irish labourers, shows the -quality of the class employed. The English labourers, working on the -same terms, are of the usual class of men so working,--broken-down -men, unable, or accounting themselves unable, to “do better,” and so -accepting any offer affording the means of their daily bread. - - -OF THE LONDON CHIMNEY-SWEEPERS. - -Chimney-Sweepers are a consequence of two things--chimneys and the -use of coals as fuel; and these are both commodities of comparatively -recent introduction. - -It is generally admitted that the earliest mention of _chimneys_ is -in an Italian MS., preserved in Venice, in which it is recorded that -chimneys were thrown down in that city from the shock of an earthquake -in 1347. In England, down even to the commencement of the reign of -Elizabeth, the greater part of the houses in our towns had no chimneys; -the fire was kindled on a hearth-stone on the floor, or on a raised -grate against the wall or in the centre of the apartment, and the smoke -found its way out of the doors, windows, or casements. - -During the long, and--as regards civil strife--generally peaceful, -reign of Elizabeth, the use of chimneys increased. In a Discourse -prefixed to an edition of Holinshed’s “Chronicles,” in 1577, Harrison, -the writer, complains, among other things, “marvellously altered for -the worse in England,” of the multitude of chimneys erected of late. -“Now we have many chimneys,” he says, “and our tenderlings complain -of rheums, catarrhs, and poses. Then we had none but _reredoses_, -and our heads did never ache.”[57] He demurs, too, to the change in -the material of which the houses were constructed: “Houses were once -builded of willow, then we had oaken men; but now houses are made of -oak, and our men not only become willow, but a great many altogether of -straw, which is a sore alteration.” - -In Shakespeare’s time, the chimney-sweepers seem to have become a -recognised class of public cleansers, for in “Cymbeline” the poet says-- - - “Fear no more the heat o’ the sun, - Nor the furious winter’s rages; - Thou thy worldly task hast done, - Home art gone, and ta’en thy wages: - Golden lads and girls all must, - _As chimney-sweepers_ come to dust.” - -In this beautiful passage there is an intimation, by the -“chimney-sweepers” being contrasted with the “golden lads and girls,” -that their employment was regarded as of the meanest, a repute it bears -to the present day. - -But chimneys seem, like the “sweeps” or “sweepers,” to have been a -necessity of a change of fuel. In the days of “rere-dosses,” our -ancestors burnt only wood, so that they were not subjected to so -great an inconvenience as we should be were our fires kindled without -the vent of the chimney. Our fuel is coal, which produces a greater -quantity of soot, and of black smoke, which is the result of imperfect -combustion, than any other fuel, the smoke from wood being thin and -pure in comparison. - -The first mention of the use of coal as fuel occurs in a charter of -Henry III., granting licence to the burgesses of Newcastle to dig for -coal. In 1281 Newcastle is said to have had some slight trade in this -article. Shortly afterwards coal began to be imported into London for -the use of smiths, brewers, dyers, soap-boilers, &c. In 1316, during -the reign of Edward I., its use in London was prohibited because of the -supposed injurious influence of the smoke. In 1600 the use of coal in -the metropolis became universal; about 200 vessels were employed in the -London trade, and about 200,000 chaldrons annually imported. - -In 1848, however, there were, besides the railway-borne coals, 12,267 -cargoes imported, or 3,418,340 tons. The London coal trade now employs -2700 vessels and 21,600 seamen, and constitutes one-fourth of the whole -general trade of the Thames. - -To understand the _necessity_ for chimney-sweepers, and the extent -of the work for them to do, that is to say, the quantity of soot -deposited in our chimneys during the combustion of the three and a half -millions of tons of coals that are now annually consumed in London, -we must first comprehend the conditions upon which the evolution -of soot depends, soot being simply the fine carbonaceous particles -condensed from the smoke of coal fuel, and deposited against the sides -of the chimneys during its ascent between the walls to the tops of -our houses. These conditions appear to have been determined somewhat -accurately during the investigations of the Smoke Prevention Committee. - -There are two kinds of smoke from the ordinary materials of -combustion--(A) _Opaque_, or black smoke; (B) _Transparent_, or -invisible smoke. - - A. The _Opaque_ smoke, though the most offensive and annoying from - its dirtying properties, is, like the muddiest water, the least - injurious to animal or vegetable health. It consists of the particles - of unconsumed carbon which have not been deposited in the form of soot - in the flue or chimney. This is the black smoke which will be further - described. - - B. _Transparent_ smoke is composed of gases which are for the most - part invisible, such as carbonic acid and carbonic oxide; also of - sulphurous acid, but smokes with that component are both visible and - invisible. The sulphurous acid is said by Professor Brande to destroy - vegetation, for it has long been a cause of wonder why vegetation - in towns did not flourish, since carbonic acid (which is so largely - produced from the action of our fires) is the vital air of trees, - shrubs, and plants[58]. - -I may here observe, that several of the scientific men who gave -the results of years of observation and study in their evidence -to the Committee of the House of Commons, remarked on the popular -misunderstanding of what smoke was, it being generally regarded as -something _visible_. But in the composition of smoke, it appears, one -product may be visible, and another invisible, and both offensive; -while “occasionally you may have from the same materials varieties of -products, all invisible, according to the manner to which they are -supplied with air.” - -The Committee requested Dr. Reid to prepare a definition of “smoke,” -and more especially of “black smoke.” The following is the substance of -the doctor’s definition, or rather description:-- - -1. _Black Smoke_ consists essentially of carbon separated by heat -from coal or other combustible bodies. If this smoke be produced -at a very high temperature, the carbon forms a loose and powdery -soot, comparatively free from other substances; while the lower the -temperature at which black soot is formed, the larger is the amount -of other substances with which it is mingled, among which are the -following:--carbon, water, resin, oily and other inflammable products -of various volatilities, ammonia, and carbonate of ammonia. - -When the carbon, oils, resin, and water are associated together in -certain proportions, they constitute _tar_. _Soft pitch_ is produced if -the tar be so far heated that the water is expelled; and _hard pitch_ -(resin blackened by carbon) when the oils are volatilized. - -In all cases of ordinary combustion, carbonic acid is formed by the -red-hot cinders, or by gases or other compounds containing carbon, -acting on the oxygen of the air. This carbonic acid is discharged -in general as an _invisible_ gas. If the carbonic acid pass through -red-hot cinders, or any carbonaceous smoke at a high temperature, it -loses one particle of oxygen, and becomes carbonic oxide gas. The lost -oxygen, uniting with carbon, forms an additional amount of carbonic -oxide gas, which passes to the external atmosphere as an invisible gas, -unless kindled in its progress, or at the top of the chimney, when its -temperature is sufficiently elevated by the action of air. Carbonic -oxide gas burns with a blue flame, and produces carbonic acid gas. - -Black smoke is always associated with carburetted hydrogen gases. These -may be mechanically blended with the oils and resins, but must be -carefully distinguished from them. They form more essentially, when in -a state of combustion, the inflammable matters that constitute flame. - -2. _Smoke from Charcoal, Coke, and Anthracite_, is always invisible if -the material be dry. A flame may appear, however, if carbonic oxide be -formed. - -3. _Wood or Pyroligneous Smoke_ is rarely black. Water and carbonic -acid are the products of the full combustion of wood, omitting the -consideration of the ash that remains. - -4. _Sulphurous Smokes._ Tons of sulphur are annually evolved in various -conditions from copper-works. Offensive sulphurous smokes are often -evolved from various chemical works, as gas-works, acid-works, &c. - -5. _Hydrochloric Acid Smoke_ is evolved in general in large quantities -from alkali works. - -6. _Metallic Smokes_--when ores of lead, copper, arsenic, &c., are -used--often contain offensive matter in a minute state of division, and -suspended in the smoke evolved from the furnaces. - -7. _Putrescent Smokes_, loaded with the products of decayed animal and -vegetable matter, are evolved at times from drains in visible vapours, -more especially in damp weather. The fœtid particles, when associated -with moisture in this smoke, are entirely decomposed when subjected to -heat. - -Dr. Ure says, speaking of the cause of the ordinary black smoke above -described, “The inevitable conversion of atmospheric air into carbonic -acid has been hitherto the radical defect of almost all furnaces. The -consequence is, that this gaseous matter is mixed with an atmosphere -containing far too little oxygen, and instead of burning the carbon -and hydrogen, which constitute the coal gases, the carbon is deposited -partly in a pulverized form, constituting smoke or soot, and a great -deal of the carbon gets half-burnt, and forms what is well known under -the name of carbonic oxide, which is half-burnt charcoal.” - -“The ordinary smoke,” Professor Faraday said, in his examination before -the Committee, “is the visible black part of the products, the unburnt -portions of the carbon. If you prevent the production of carbonic oxide -or carbonic acid, you increase the production of smoke. You must with -coal fuel either have carbonic acid or oxide, or else black smoke. - -“Which is the least noxious?” he was asked, and answered, “As far as -regards health, carbonic acid and carbonic oxide are most noxious to -health; but it is not so much a question of health as of cleanliness -and comfort, because I believe that this town is as healthy as other -places where there are not these fires. - -“It is partly the impure coal gas evolved after the fresh charge of -coal which originates the smokes, when not properly supplied with air; -but it is a very mixed question. When a fresh charge of coal is put -upon the fire, a great quantity of evaporable matter, which would be -called impure coal gas according to the language of the question, is -produced; and as that matter travels on in the heated place, if there -be a sufficient supply of air, both the hydrogen and the carbon are -entirely burnt. But if there be an insufficient supply of air, the -hydrogen is taken possession of first, and the carbon is set free in -its black and solid form; and if that goes into the cool part of the -chimney before fresh air gets to it, that carbon is so carried out -into the atmosphere and is the smoke in question. Generally speaking, -the great rush of smoke is when coal is first put on the fire; and -that from the want of a sufficient supply of oxygen at the right time, -because the carbon is cooled so low as not to take fire.” - -This eminent chemist stated also that there was no difference in the -ultimate chemical effect upon the air between a wood fire and a coal -fire, but with wood there was not so much smoke set free in the heated -place, which caused a difference in the gaseous products of wood -combustion and of coal combustion. He thought that perhaps wood was -the fuel which would be most favourable to health as affecting the -atmosphere, inasmuch as it produced more water, and less carbonic acid, -as the product of combustion. - -What may be called the _peculiarities_ of a smoky and sooty atmosphere -are of course more strongly developed in London than elsewhere, as the -following curious statements show:-- - -Dr. Reid, in describing metropolitan smoke, spoke of “those black -portions of soot that every one is familiar with, which annoy us, for -instance, at the Houses of Parliament to such an extent that I have -been under the necessity of putting up a veil, about 40 feet long and -12 feet deep, on which, on a single evening, taking the worst kind of -weather for the production of soot, we can count occasionally 200,000 -visible portions of soot excluded at a single sitting. We count with -the naked eye the number of pieces entangled upon a square inch. I -have examined the amount deposited on different occasions in different -parts of London at the tops of some houses; and on one occasion at the -Horse Guards the amount of soot deposited was so great, that it formed -a complete and continuous film, so that when I walked upon it I saw -the impression of my foot left as distinctly on that occasion as when -snow lies upon the ground. The film was exceedingly thin, but I could -discover no want of continuity. On other occasions I have noticed in -London that the quantity that escapes into individual houses is so -great that in a single night I have observed a mixture of soot and of -hoar frost collecting at the edge of the door, and forming a stripe -three-quarters of an inch in breadth, and bearing an exact resemblance -to a pepper and salt grey cloth. Those that I refer to are extreme -occasions.” - -Mr. Booth mentioned, that one of the gardeners of the Botanic Garden in -the Regent’s-park, could tell the number of days sheep had been in the -park from the blackness of their wool, its oleaginous power retaining -the black. - -Dr. Ure informed the Committee that a column of smoke might be seen -extending in different directions round London, according to the way of -the wind, for a distance of from 20 to 30 miles; and that Sir William -Herschel had told him that when the wind blew from London he could not -use his great telescope at Slough. - -It was stated, moreover, that when a respirator is washed, the water is -rendered dirty by the particles of soot adhering to the wire gauze, and -which, but for this, would have entered the mouth. - -Professor Brande said, on the subject of the public health being -affected by smoke, “I cannot say that my opinion is that smoke produces -any unhealthiness in London; it is a great nuisance certainly; but I -do not think we have any good evidence that it produces disease of any -kind.” - -“This Committee,” said Mr. Beckett, “have been told that, by the -mechanical effects of smoke upon the chest and lungs, disease -takes place; that is, by swallowing a certain quantity of smoke -the respiratory organs are injured; can you give any opinion upon -that?”--“One would conceive,” replied the Professor, “that that is the -case; but when we compare the health of London with that of any other -town or place where they are comparatively free or quite free from -smoke, we do not find that difference which we should expect in regard -to health.” - -Mr. E. Solly, lecturer on chemistry at the Royal Institution, expressed -his opinion of the effect of smoke upon the health of towns:-- - -“My impression is,” he said, “that it produces decided evil in two or -three ways: first, mechanically; the solid black carbonaceous matter -produces a great deal of disease; it occasions dirt amongst the lower -orders, and, if they will not take pains to remove it, it engenders -disease. If we could do away the smoke nuisance, I believe a great deal -of that disease would be put an end to. But there is another point, and -that is, the bad effects produced by the gases, sulphurous acid and -other compounds of that nature, which are given out. If we do away with -smoke, we shall still have those gases; and I have no doubt that those -gases produce a great part of the disease that is produced by smoke.” - -On the other hand Dr. Reid thought that smoke was more injurious from -the dirt it created than from causing impurity in the atmosphere, -although “it was obvious enough that the inspiration of a sooty -atmosphere must be injurious to persons of a delicate constitution.” -Dr. Ure pronounced smoke, in the common sense of visible black smoke, -unwholesome, but “not so eminently as the French imagine.” - -Many witnesses stated their conviction that where poor people resided -amongst smoke, they felt it impossible to preserve cleanliness in -their persons or their dwellings, and that made them careless of -their homes and indifferent to a decency of appearance, so that the -public-house, and places where cleanliness and propriety were in no -great estimation, became places of frequent resort, on the plain -principle that if a man’s home were uncomfortable, he was not likely to -stay in it. - -“I think,” said Mr. Booth, “one great effect of the evil of smoke is -upon the dwellings of the poor; it renders them less attentive to their -personal appearance, and, in consequence, to their social condition.” - -It was also stated that there were “certain districts inhabited by -the poor, where they will not hang out their clothes to be cleansed; -they say it is of no use to do it, they will become dirty as before, -and consequently they do not have their clothes washed.” The districts -specified as presenting this characteristic are St. George’s-in-the -East and the neighbourhood of Old-street, St. Luke’s. - -It must not be lost sight of, that whatever evils, moral or physical, -without regarding merely pecuniary losses, are inflicted by the excess -of smoke, they fall upon the poor, and almost solely on the poor. It is -the poor who must reside, as was said, and with a literality not often -applicable to popular phrases, “in the thick of it,” and consequently -there must either be increased washing or increased dirt. - -To effect the mitigation of the nuisance of smoke, two points were -considered:-- - - A. The substitution of some other material, containing less bituminous - matter, for the “Newcastle coal.” - - B. The combustion of the smoke, before its emission into the - atmospheric air, by means of mechanical contrivances founded on - scientific principles. - -As regards the first consideration (A) it was recommended that -anthracite, or stone Welsh coal, which is a smokeless fuel, should be -used instead of the Newcastle coal. This coal is almost the sole fuel -in Philadelphia, a city of Quaker neatness beyond any in the United -States of North America, and sometimes represented as the cleanest in -the world. The anthracite coal is somewhat dearer than Newcastle coal -in London, but only in a small degree. - -_Coke_ was also recommended as a substitute for coal in private -dwellings. - -“Are you of opinion,” Dr. Reid was asked, “that smoke may be in a great -measure prevented by extending the use of gas and coke?” He answered, -“In numerous cities, where large quantities of gas are produced, coke -is very frequently the principal fuel of the poor, and the difficulty -of lighting that coke, and the difficulty of having heat developed -by it in sufficient quantity, necessarily led me to look at the -construction of the fire-places adapted for it. And on a general review -of the question, I do entertain the opinion, that if education were -more extended amongst the humblest classes with respect to the economy -of their own fireside (I mean, literally, the fire-place, at present), -and if gas were greatly extended, so that they did not drain the coal -of the gas-works of the last dregs of gaseous matter, which are of very -little use as gas, and more to be considered as adding to the bulk for -sale than as valuable gas, that a coke might be left which would be -easily accendible, which would be economical, and which, if introduced -into fire-places where an open fire is desired, would _entirely remove -the necessity of sweeping chimneys even with machines_, and would at -the same time give as economical a fire as any ordinary fire-place can -produce, for an ordinary coal fire rarely is powerful in its calorific -emanations till the mass of gas has been expelled, and we see the -cherry-red fire. The amount of gas that has escaped previously to the -production or coking of the fire, is the gas that is valuable in a -manufactory, and if therefore the individual consumer could have, not -the hard-burnt stony coke, but the soft coke, in the condition that -would give at once a cherry-red fire, we should attain the two great -objects--of economising gas, and at the same time of having a lively -cheerful fire. Then this led me to look particularly at the price of a -gas lamp for a poor man. In a poor man’s family, where the breakfast, -the tea and dinner, require the principal attention, and he has some -plain cooking utensils, in the heat of summer I believe that he will -produce as much heat as he wants for those purposes from a single -burner, which can be turned on and left all day, which shall not risk -any boiling over, and by having this pure heat directed to the object -to be warmed, instead of having a heavy iron grate, this plan would, if -gas were generally introduced even into the humblest apartments, prove -a great source of economy in summer.” - -Dr. Reid also told the Committee that there was a great prejudice -against the use of coke, many persons considering that it produced a -sulphurous smell; but as all ordinary coal coked itself, or became coke -in an open fire, and was never powerfully calorific till it became -coke, the prejudice would die away. - -Very little is said in the Report about the smoke of private houses; an -allusion, however, is made to that portion of the investigation:--“Your -Committee have received the most gratifying assurances of the confident -hope entertained by several of the highest scientific authorities -examined by them, that the black smoke proceeding from fires in private -dwellings, and all other places, may eventually be entirely prevented, -either by the adoption of stoves and grates formed for a perfect -combustion of the common bituminous coal, or by the use of coke, or of -anthracite; but they are of opinion that the present knowledge on that -subject is not such as to justify any legislative interference with -these smaller fires.” - -“I should, in prospect,” Professor Faraday said to the Committee, “look -forward to the possibility of a great reduction of the smoke from coal -fires in houses; but my impression is, that, in the present state of -things, it would be tyrannical to determine that that must be done -which at present we do not know can be done. Still, I think there is -reason to believe that it can be effected in a very high degree.” - -Dr. Ure also thought that to extend any smoke enactment to private -dwellings might be tyrannical in the present state of the chimneys, -but he had no doubt that smoke might be consumed in fires in private -dwellings. - - * * * * * - -Such, then, are the causes and remedies for smoke, and consequently of -soot, for smoke, or rather opaque smoke, consists, as we have seen, of -merely the gases of combustion with minute particles of carbon diffused -throughout them; and as smoke is the result of the imperfect burning of -our coals, it follows that chimney-sweepers are but a consequence of -our ignorance, and that, as we grow wiser in the art of economising our -fuel, we shall be gradually displacing this branch of labourers--the -means of preventing smoke being simply the mode of displacing the -chimney-sweepers--and this is another of the many facts to teach us -that not only are we doubling our population in forty years, but we are -likewise learning every year how to do our work with a less number of -workers, either by inventing some piece of mechanism that will enable -one “hand” to do as much as one hundred, or else doing away with some -branch of labour altogether. Here lies the great difficulty of the -time. A new element--science, with its offspring, steam--has been -introduced into our society within the last century, decreasing labour -at a time when the number of our labourers has been increasing at a -rate unexampled in history; and the problem is, how to reconcile the -new social element with the old social institutions, doing as little -injury as possible to the community. - -Suppose, for instance, the “smoke nuisance” entirely prevented, -and that Professor Faraday’s prophecy as to the great reduction of -the smoke from coal fires in houses were fulfilled, and that the -expectations of the sanguine and intense Committee, who tell us that -they have “received _the most gratifying_ assurances of the _confident_ -hope entertained by several of _the highest scientific_ authorities, -that the black smoke proceeding from fires in private dwellings and all -other places may be eventually _entirely_ prevented,”--suppose that -these expectations, I say, be realized (and there appears to be little -doubt of the matter), what is to become of the 1000 to 1500 “sweeps” -who live, as it were, upon this very smoke? Surely the whole community -should not suffer for them, it will be said. True; but unfortunately -the same argument is being applied to each particular section of the -labouring class,--and the labourers make up by far the greater part of -the community. If we are daily displacing a thousand labourers by the -annihilation of this process, and another thousand by the improvement -of that, what is to be the fate of those we put on one side? and where -shall we find employment for the hundred thousand new “hands” that are -daily coming into existence among us? This is the great problem for -earnest thoughtful men to work out! - - * * * * * - -But we have to deal here with the chimney-sweepers as they are, and -not as they may be in a more scientific age. And, first, as to _the -quantity of soot_ annually deposited at present in the London chimneys. - -The quantity of soot produced in the metropolis every year may be -ascertained in the following manner:-- - -The larger houses are swept in some instances once a month, but -generally once in three months, and yield on an average six bushels of -soot per year. A moderate-sized house, belonging to the “middle class,” -is usually swept four times a year, and gives about five bushels of -soot per annum; while houses occupied by the working and poorer classes -are seldom swept more than twice, and sometimes only once, in the -twelvemonth, and yield about two bushels of soot annually. - -The larger houses--the residences of noblemen and the more wealthy -gentry--may, then, be said to produce an average of six bushels of -soot annually; the houses of the more prosperous tradesmen, about five -bushels; while those of the humbler classes appear to yield only two -bushels of soot per annum. There are, according to the last returns, in -round numbers, 300,000 inhabited houses at present in the metropolis, -and these, from the “reports” of the income and property tax, may be -said to consist, as regards the average rentals, of the proportions -given in the next page. - - -TABLE SHOWING THE NUMBER OF HOUSES, AT DIFFERENT AVERAGE RENTALS, -THROUGHOUT THE METROPOLIS. - - -------------------------------+-----------------------------+------------------------------ - Number of Houses whose | Number of Houses whose |Number of Houses whose - Average Rental is above | Average Rental is above | Average Rental is below - £50. | £30 and below £50. | £30. - ---------------+-------+-------+-------------+-------+-------+-------------+--------+------- - |Average|Number | |Average|Number | |Average |Number - |Rental.| of | |Rental.| of | |Rental. | of - | |Houses.| | |Houses.| | |Houses. - ---------------+-------+-------+-------------+-------+-------+-------------+--------+------- - | £ | | | £ | | | £ | - Hanover-square,| | |Poplar | 44 | 6,882 |Chelsea | 29 | 7,629 - May Fair | 150 | 8,795 |Pancras | 41 |18,731 |Wandsworth | 29 | 8,290 - St. James’s | 128 | 3,460 |Hampstead | 40 | 1,719 |St. Luke’s | 28 | 6,421 - St. Martin’s | 119 | 2,323 |Kensington | 40 |17,292 |Lambeth | 28 | 20,520 - London City | 117 | 7,329 |Clerkenwell | 38 | 7,259 |Lewisham | 27 | 5,936 - Marylebone | 71 |15,955 |East London | 38 | 4,785 |Whitechapel | 26 | 8,832 - Strand | 66 | 3,938 |St. Saviour’s| 36 | 4,613 |Hackney | 25 | 9,861 - West London | 65 | 2,745 |Westminster | 36 | 6,647 |Camberwell | 25 | 9,417 - St. Giles’s | 60 | 4,778 |St. Olave’s | 35 | 2,365 |Rotherhithe | 23 | 2,834 - Holborn | 52 | 4,517 |Islington | 35 |13,558 |St. George’s,| | - | +-------+St. George’s-| | | Southwark | 22 | 7,005 - | |53,840 | in-the-East| 32 | 6,151 |Newington | 22 | 10,468 - | | | | + ------+Greenwich | 22 | 14,423 - | | | | |90,002 |Shoreditch | 20 | 15,433 - | | | | | |Stepney | 20 | 16,346 - | | | | | |Bermondsey | 18 | 7,095 - | | | | | |Bethnal Green| 9 | 13,370 - | | | | | | | +------- - | | | | | | | |163,880 - ---------------+-------+-------+-------------+-------+-------+-------------+--------+------- - -Here we see that the number of houses whose average rental is above -50_l._ is 53,840; while those whose average rental is above 30_l._, and -below 50_l._, are 90,002 in number; and those whose rental is below -30_l._ are as many as 163,880; the average rental for all London, -40_l._ Now, adopting the estimate before given as to the proportionate -yield of soot from each of these three classes of houses, we have the -following items:-- - - Bushels - of Soot per - Annum. - 53,840 houses at a yearly rental - above 50_l._, producing 6 bushels of - soot each per annum 323,040 - - 90,002 houses at a yearly rental - above 30_l._ and below 50_l._, producing - 5 bushels of soot each per annum 450,010 - - 163,880 houses at a yearly rental - below 30_l._, producing 2 bushels of - soot each per annum 327,760 - --------- - Total number of bushels of soot annually - produced throughout London 1,100,810 - -This calculation will be found to be nearly correct if tried by another -mode. The quantity of soot depends greatly upon the amount of volatile -or bituminous matter in the coals used. By a table given at p. 169 of -the second volume of this work it will be seen that the proportion of -volatile matter contained in the several kinds of coal are as follows:-- - -Cannel or gas coals contain 40 to 60 per cent. of volatile matter. - -Newcastle or “house” coals, about 37 per cent. - -Lancashire and Yorkshire coals, 35 to 40 per cent. - -South Welsh or “steam” coals, 11 to 15 per cent. - -Anthracite or “stone” coals, none. - -The house coals are those chiefly used throughout London, so that -every ton of such coals contains about 800 lbs. of volatile matter, a -considerable proportion of which appears in the form of smoke; but what -proportion and what is the weight of the carbonaceous particles or soot -evolved in a given quantity of smoke, I know of no means of judging. I -am informed, however, by those practically acquainted with the subject, -that a ton of ordinary house coals will produce between a fourth and -a half of a bushel of soot[59]. Now there are, say, 3,500,000 tons -of coal consumed annually in London; but a large proportion of this -quantity is used for the purposes of gas, for factories, breweries, -chemical works, and steam-boats. The consumption of coal for the making -of gas in London, in 1849, was 380,000 tons; so that, including the -quantity used in factories, breweries, &c., we may, perhaps, estimate -the domestic consumption of the metropolis at 2,500,000 tons yearly, -which, for 300,000 houses, would give eight tons per house. And when we -remember the amount used in large houses and in hotels, as well as by -the smaller houses, where each room often contains a different family, -this does not appear to be too high an average. Mr. M’Culloch estimates -the domestic consumption at one ton per head, men, women, and children; -and since the number of persons to each house in London is 7·5, this -would give nearly the same result. Estimating the yield of soot to be -three-eighths of a bushel per ton, we have, in round numbers, 1,000,000 -bushels of soot as the gross quantity deposited in the metropolitan -chimneys every year. - -Or, to check the estimate another way, there are 350 master sweepers -throughout London. A master sweeper in a “large way of business” -collects, I am informed, one day with another, from 30 to 40 bushels -of soot; on the other hand, a small master, or “single-handed” -chimney-sweeper is able to gather only about 5 bushels, and scarcely -that. One master sweeper said that about 10 bushels a day would, he -thought, be a fair average quantity for all the masters, reckoning -one day with another; so that at this rate we should have 1,095,500 -bushels for the gross quantity of soot annually collected throughout -the metropolis. - -We may therefore assume the aggregate yield of soot throughout London -to be 1,000,000 bushels per annum. Now what is done with this immense -mass of refuse matter? Of what use is it? - -_The soot is purchased from the masters, whose perquisite it is, by -the farmers and dealers._ It is used by them principally for meadow -land, and frequently for land where wheat is grown; not so much, I -understand, as a manure, as for some quality in it which destroys -slugs and other insects injurious to the crops[60]. Lincolnshire is -one of the great marts for the London soot, whither it is transported -by railway. In Hertfordshire, Cambridge, Norfolk, Suffolk, Essex, and -Kent, however, and many other parts, London soot is used in large -quantities; there are persons who have large stores for its reception, -who purchase it from the master sweepers, and afterwards sell it to -the farmers and send it as per order, to its destination. These are -generally the manure-merchants, of whom the Post-Office Directory -gives 26 names, eight being marked as dealers in guano. I was told by -a sweeper in a large way of business that he thought these men bought -from a half to three-quarters of the soot; the remainder being bought -by the land-cultivators in the neighbourhood of London. Soot is often -used by gardeners to keep down the insects which infest their gardens. - - * * * * * - -_The value of the Soot_ collected throughout London is the next subject -to engage our attention. Many sweepers have represented it as a very -curious fact, and one for which they could advance no sufficient -reason, that the price of a bushel of soot was regulated by the price -of the quartern loaf, so that you had only to know that the quartern -loaf was 5_d._ to know that such was the price of a bushel of soot. -This, however, is hardly the case at present; the price of the quartern -loaf (not regarding the “seconds,” or inferior bread), is now, at the -end of December, 1851, 5_d._ to 6_d._ according to quality. The price -of soot per bushel is but 5_d._, and sometimes but 4-1/2_d._, but 5_d._ -may be taken as an average. - -Now 1,000,000 bushels of soot, at 5_d._, will be found to yield -20,833_l._ 6_s._ 8_d._ per annum. But the whole of this quantity is -not collected by the chimney-sweepers, for many of the poorer persons -seldom have their chimneys swept; and by the table given in another -place, it will be seen that not more than 800,000 bushels are obtained -in the course of the year by the London “sweeps.” Hence we may say, -that there are 800,000 bushels of soot annually collected from the -London chimneys, and that this is worth not less than 16,500_l._ per -annum. - - * * * * * - -_The next question is, how many people are employed in collecting this -quantity of refuse matter_, and how do they collect it, and what do -they get, individually and collectively, for so doing? - -To begin with the number of master and journeymen sweepers employed in -removing these 800,000 bushels of soot from our chimneys: according to -the Census returns, the number of “sweeps” in the metropolis in the -years 1841 and 1831 were as follows:-- - - Increase - in ten - _Chimney-sweepers._ 1841. 1831. years. - Males, 20 years and upwards 619 421 198 - „ under 20 years 370 no returns. - Females, 20 years & upwards 44 „ - ----- - 1033 - -But these returns, such as they are, include both employers and -employed, in one confused mass. To disentangle the economical knot, -we must endeavour to separate the number of master sweepers from the -journeymen. According to the Post-Office Directory the master sweepers -amount to no more than 32, and thus there would be one more than -1000 for the number of the metropolitan journeymen sweepers; these -statements, however, appear to be very wide of the truth. - -In 1816 it was represented to the House of Commons, that there were -within the bills of mortality, 200 masters, all--except the “great -gentlemen,” as one witness described them, who were about 20 in -number--themselves working at the business, and that they had 150 -journeymen and upwards of 500 apprentices, so that there must then have -been 850 working sweepers altogether, young and old. - -These numbers, it must be borne in mind, were comprised in the limits -of the bills of mortality 34 years ago. The parishes in the old bills -of mortality were 148; there are now in the metropolis proper 176, and, -as a whole, the area is much more densely covered with dwelling-houses. -Taking but the last ten years, 1841 to 1851, the inhabited houses have -increased from 262,737 to 307,722, or, in round numbers, 45,000. - -Now in 1811 the number of inhabited houses in the metropolis was -146,019, and in 1821 it was 164,948; hence in 1816 we may assume the -inhabited houses to have been about 155,000; and since this number -required 850 working sweepers to cleanse the London chimneys, it is -but a rule of three sum to find how many would have been required for -the same purpose in 1841, when the inhabited houses had increased to -262,737; this, according to Cocker, is about 1400; so that we must -come to the conclusion either that the number of working sweepers had -not kept pace with the increase of houses, or that the returns of -the census were as defective in this respect as we have found them -to be concerning the street-sellers, dustmen, and scavagers. Were we -to pursue the same mode of calculation, we should find that if 850 -sweepers were required to cleanse the chimneys of 155,000 houses, there -should be 1687 such labourers in London now that the houses are 307,722 -in number. - -But it will be seen that in 1816 more than one-half (or 500 out of -850) of the working chimney-sweepers were apprentices, and in 1841 -the chimney-sweepers under 20 years of age, if we are to believe the -census, constituted more than one-third of the whole body (or 370 out -of 1033). Now as the use of climbing boys was prohibited in 1842, of -course this large proportion of the trade has been rendered useless; -so that, estimating the master and journeymen sweepers at 250 in 1816, -it would appear that about 500 would be required to sweep the chimneys -of the metropolis at present. To these, of course, must be added the -extra number of journeymen necessary for managing the machines. And -considering the journeymen to have increased threefold since the -abolition of the climbing boys, we must add 300 to the above number, -which will make the sum total of the individuals employed in this trade -to amount to very nearly 800. - -By inquiries throughout the several districts of the metropolis, I -find that there are altogether 350 master sweepers at present in -London; 106 of these are large masters, who seldom go out on a round, -but work to order, having a regular custom among the more wealthy -classes; while the other 244 consist of 92 small masters and 152 -“single-handed” masters, who travel on various rounds, both in London -and the suburbs, seeking custom. Of the whole number, 19 reside within -the City boundaries; from 90 to 100 live on the Surrey side, and 235 on -the Middlesex side of the Thames (without the City boundaries). A large -master employs from 2 to 10 men, and 2 boys; and a small one only 2 men -or sometimes 1 man and a boy, while a single-handed master employs no -men nor boys at all, but does all the work himself. - -The 198 masters employ among them 12 foremen, 399 journeymen, and 62 -boys, or 473 hands, and adding to them the single-handed master-men who -work at the business themselves, we have 823 working men in all; so -that, on the whole, there are not less than between 800 and 900 persons -employed in cleansing the London chimneys of their soot. - -The next point that presents itself in due order to the mind is, as to -the _mode of working among the chimney-sweepers_; that is to say, how -are the 800,000 bushels of soot collected from the 300,000 houses by -these 820 working sweepers? But this involves a short history of the -trade. - - -OF THE SWEEPERS OF OLD, AND THE CLIMBING BOYS. - -Formerly the chimneys used to be cleansed by the house servants, -for a person could easily stand erect in the huge old-fashioned -constructions, and thrust up a broom as far as his strength would -permit. Sometimes, however, straw was kindled at the mouth of the -chimney, and in that way the soot was consumed or brought down to the -ground by the action of the fire. But that there were also regular -chimney-sweepers in the latter part of the sixteenth century is -unquestionable; for in the days of the First James and Charles, poor -Piedmontese, and more especially Savoyards, resorted to England for the -express purpose. How long they laboured in this vocation is unknown. -The Savoyards, indeed, were then the general showmen and sweeps of -Europe, and so they are still in some of the cities of Italy and -France. - -As regards the first introduction of English children into -chimneys--the establishment of the use of climbing boys--nothing -appears, according to the representations made to Parliament on several -occasions, to be known; and little attention seems to have been paid -to the condition of these infants--some were but little better--until -about 1780, when the benevolent Jonas Hanway, who is said, but not -uncontradictedly, to have been the first person who regularly used -an umbrella in the streets of London, called public attention to the -matter. In 1788 Mr. Hanway and others brought a bill into Parliament -for the better protection of the climbing boys, requiring, among other -provisions, all master sweepers to be licensed, and the names and ages -of all their apprentices registered. The House of Lords, however, -rejected this bill, and the 28th George III., c. 48, was passed in -preference. The chief alterations sought to be effected by the new -Act were, that no sweeper should have more than six apprentices, and -that no boy should be apprenticed at a tenderer age than eight years. -Previously there were no restrictions in either of those respects. - -These provisions were, however, very generally violated. By one of -those “flaws” or omissions, so very common and so little creditable -to our legislation, it was found that there was no prohibition to -a sweeper’s employing his own children at what age he pleased; and -“some,” or “several,” for I find both words used, employed their sons, -and occasionally their daughters, in chimney climbing at the ages -of six, five, and even between four and five years! The children of -others, too, were continually being apprenticed at illegal ages, for -no inquiry was made into the lad’s age beyond the statement of his -parents, or, in the case of parish apprentices, beyond the (in those -days) not more trustworthy word of the overseers. Thus boys of six were -apprenticed--for apprenticeship was almost universal--as boys of eight, -by their parents; while parish officers and magistrates consigned the -workhouse orphans, as a thing of course, to the starvation and tyranny -which they must have known were very often in store for them when -apprenticed to sweepers. - -The following evidence was adduced before Parliament on the subject of -infant labour in this trade:-- - -Mr. John Cook, a master sweeper, then of Great Windmill-street and -Kentish-town, the first who persevered in the use of the machine years -before its use was compulsory, stated that it was common for parents in -the business to employ their own children, under the age of seven, in -climbing; and that as far as he knew, he himself was only between six -and seven when he “came to it;” and that almost all master sweepers had -got it in their bills that they kept “small boys for register-stoves, -and such like as that.” - -Mr. T. Allen, another master sweeper, was between four and five when -articled to an uncle. - -[Illustration: THE LONDON SWEEP - -[_From a Daguerreotype by_ BEARD.]] - -Mr. B. M. Forster, a private gentleman, a member of the “Committee -to promote the Superseding of Climbing Boys,” said, “Some are put to -the employment very young; one instance of which occurred to a -child in the neighbourhood of Shoreditch, who was put to the trade at -four and a quarter years, or thereabouts. The father of a child in -Whitechapel told me last week, that his son began climbing when he was -four years and eight months old. I have heard of some still younger, -but only from vague report.” - -This sufficiently proves at what infantine years children were exposed -to toils of exceeding painfulness. The smaller and the more slenderly -formed the child, the more valuable was he for the sweeping of flues, -the interior of some of them, to be ascended and swept, being but seven -inches square. - -I have mentioned the employment of female children in the very -unsuitable labour of climbing chimneys. The following is all the -information given on the subject. - -Mr. Tooke was asked, “Have you ever heard of female children being -so employed?” and replied, “I have heard of cases at Hadley, Barnet, -Windsor, and Uxbridge; and I know a case at Witham, near Colchester, of -that sort.” - -Mr. B. M. Foster said, “Another circumstance, which has not been -mentioned to the Committee, is, that there are several little girls -employed; there are two of the name of Morgan at Windsor, daughters -of the chimney-sweeper _who is employed to sweep the chimneys of -the Castle_; another instance at Uxbridge, and at Brighton, and at -Whitechapel (which was some years ago), and at Headley near Barnet, and -Witham in Essex, and elsewhere.” He then stated, on being asked, “Do -you not think that girls were employed from their physical form being -smaller and thinner than boys, and therefore could get up narrower -flues?” “The reason that I have understood was, because their parents -had not a sufficient number of boys to bring up to the business.” Mr. -Foster did not know the ages of these girls. - -The inquiry by a Committee of the House of Commons, which led more -than any other to the prohibition of this infant and yet painful -labour in chimney-sweeping, was held in 1817, and they recommended the -“preventing the further use of climbing boys in sweeping of chimneys;” -a recommendation not carried into effect until 1832. The matter was -during the interval frequently agitated in Parliament, but there were -no later investigations by Committees. - -I will adduce, specifically, the grievances, according to the Report -of 1817, of the climbing boys; but will first present the following -extract from the evidence of Mr. W. Tooke, a gentleman who, in -accordance with the Hon. Henry Grey Bennet, M.P., and others, exerted -himself on the behoof of the climbing boys. When he gave his evidence, -Mr. Tooke was the secretary to a society whose object was to supersede -the necessity of employing climbing boys. He said:-- - -“In the year 1800, the Society for Bettering the Condition of the -Poor took up the subject, but little or nothing appears to have been -done upon that occasion, except that the most respectable master -chimney-sweepers entered into an association and subscription for -promoting the cleanliness and health of the boys in their respective -services. The Institution of which I am treasurer, and which is now -existing, was formed in February, 1803. In consequence of an anonymous -advertisement, a large meeting was held at the London Coffee House, -and the Society was established; immediate steps were then taken -to ascertain the state of the trade; inspectors were appointed to -give an account of all the master chimney-sweepers within the bills -of mortality, their general character, their conduct towards their -apprentices, and the number of those apprentices. It was ascertained, -that the total number of master chimney-sweepers, within the bills -of mortality, might be estimated at 200, who had among them 500 -apprentices; that not above 20 of those masters were reputable -tradesmen in easy circumstances, who appeared generally to conform to -the provisions of the Act; and which 20 had, upon an average, from -four to five apprentices each. We found about 90 of an inferior class -of master chimney-sweepers who averaged three apprentices each, and -who were extremely negligent both of the health, morals, and education -of those apprentices; and about 90, the remainder of the 200 masters, -were a class of chimney-sweepers recently journeymen, who took up the -trade because they had no other resource; they picked up boys as they -could, who lodged with themselves in huts, sheds, and cellars, in the -outskirts of the town, occasionally wandering into the villages round, -where they slept on soot-bags, and lived in the grossest filth.” - -The grievances I have spoken of were thus summed up by the -Parliamentary Committee. After referring to the ill-usage and hardships -sustained by the climbing boys (the figures being now introduced for -the sake of distinctness) it is stated:-- - -“It is in evidence that (1) they are stolen from” [and sold by] -“their parents, and inveigled out of workhouses; (2) that in order to -conquer the natural repugnance of the infants to ascend the narrow and -dangerous chimneys to clean which their labour is required, blows are -used; that pins are forced into their feet by the boy that follows them -up the chimney, in order to compel them to ascend it, and that lighted -straw has been applied for that purpose; (3) that the children are -subject to sores and bruises, and wounds and burns on their thighs, -knees, and elbows; and that it will require many months before the -extremities of the elbows and knees become sufficiently hard to resist -the excoriations to which they are at first subject.” - -1. With regard to the _stealing or kidnapping of children_--for there -was often a difficulty in procuring climbing boys--I find mention -in the evidence, as of a matter, but not a very frequent matter, of -notoriety. One stolen child was sold to a master sweeper for 8_l._ -8_s._ Mr. G. Revely said:-- - -“I wish to state to the Committee that case in particular, because it -comes home to the better sort of persons in higher life. It seems that -the child, upon being asked various questions, had been taken away: -the child was questioned how he came into that situation; he said all -that he could recollect was (as I heard it told at that time) that he -and his sister, with another brother, were together somewhere, but he -could not tell where; but not being able to run so well as the other -two, he was caught by a woman and carried away and was sold, and came -afterwards into the hands of a chimney-sweeper. He was not afterwards -restored to his family, and the mystery was never unravelled; but he -was advertised, and a lady took charge of him. - -“This child, in 1804, was forced up a chimney at Bridlington in -Yorkshire, by a big boy, the younger boy being apparently but four -years old. He fell and bruised his legs terribly against the grate. -The Misses Auckland of Boynton, who had heard of the child, and went -to see him, became interested by his manners, and they took him home -with them; the chimney-sweeper, who perhaps got alarmed, being glad to -part with him. Soon after he got to Boynton, the seat of Sir George -Strickland, a plate with something to eat was brought him; on seeing a -silver fork he was quite delighted, and said, ‘Papa had such forks as -those.’ He also said the carpet in the drawing-room was like papa’s; -the housekeeper showed him a silver watch, he asked what sort it -was--‘Papa’s was a gold watch;’ he then pressed the handle and said, -‘Papa’s watch rings, why does not yours?’ Sir George Strickland, on -being told this circumstance, showed him a gold repeater, the little -boy pressed the spring, and when it struck, he jumped about the room, -saying, ‘Papa’s watch rings so.’ At night, when he was going to bed, -he said he could not go to bed until he had said his prayers; he then -repeated the Lord’s Prayer, almost perfectly. The account he gave of -himself was that he was gathering flowers in his mamma’s garden, and -that the woman who sold him to the sweeper, came in and asked him if -he liked riding? He said, ‘Yes,’ and she told him he should ride with -her. She put him on a horse, after which they got into a vessel, and -the sails were put up, ‘and away we went.’ He had no recollection of -his name, or where he lived, and was too young to think his father -could have any other name than that of papa. He started whenever he -heard a servant in the family at Boynton called George, and looked as -if he expected to see somebody he knew; on inquiry, he said he had an -uncle George, whom he loved dearly. He says his mamma is dead, and -it is thought his father may be abroad. From many things he says, he -seems to have lived chiefly with an uncle and aunt, whom he invariably -says were called Mr. and Mrs. Flembrough. From various circumstances, -it is thought impossible he should be the child of the woman who sold -him, his manners being ‘very civilized,’ quite those of a child well -educated; his dialect is good, and that of the south of England. -This little boy, when first discovered, was conjectured to be about -four years old, and is described as having beautiful black eyes and -eye-lashes, a high nose, and a delicate soft skin.” - -Mr. J. Harding, a master sweeper, had a fellow apprentice who had been -enticed away from his parents. “It is a case of common occurrence,” -he said, “for children stolen, to be employed in this way. Yes, and -children in particular are enticed out of workhouses: there are a great -many who come out of workhouses.” - -The following cases were also submitted to the Committee:-- - -“A poor woman had been obliged by sickness to go into an hospital, -and while she was there her child was stolen from her house, taken -into Staffordshire, and there apprenticed to a chimney-sweeper. By -some happy circumstance she learned his fate; she followed him, and -succeeded in rescuing him from his forlorn situation. Another child, -who was an orphan, was tricked into following the same wretched -employment by a chimney-sweeper, who gave him a shilling, and made him -believe that by receiving it he became his apprentice; the poor boy, -either discovering or suspecting that he had been deceived, anxiously -endeavoured to speak to a magistrate who happened to come to the house -in which he was sweeping chimneys, but his master watched him so -closely that he could not succeed. He at last contrived to tell his -story to a blind soldier, who determined to right the poor boy, and by -_great exertions_ succeeded in procuring him his liberty.” - -It was in country places, however, that the stealing and kidnapping -of children was the most frequent, and the threat of “the sweeps will -get you” was often held out, to deter children from wandering. These -stolen infants, it is stated, were usually conveyed to some distance -by the vagrants who had secured them, and sold to some master sweeper, -being apprenticed as the child of the vendors, for it was difficult for -sweepers in thinly-peopled places to get a supply of climbing boys. It -was shown about the time of the Parliamentary inquiry, in the course of -a trial at the Lancaster assizes, that a boy had been apprenticed to a -sweeper by two travelling tinkers, man and woman, who informed him that -the child was stolen from another “traveller,” 80 miles away, who was -“too fond of it to make it a sweep.” The _price_ of the child was not -mentioned. - -Respecting the sale of children to be apprentices to sweepers, Mr. -Tooke was able to state that, although in 1816, the practice had very -much diminished of late, parents in many instances still _sold their -children for three, four, or five guineas_. This sum was generally paid -under the guise of an apprentice fee, but it was known to be and was -called a “sale,” for the parents, real or nominal, never interfered -with the master subsequently, but left the infant to its fate. - -2. I find the following account of the _means resorted to, in order to -induce, or more frequently compel, these wretched infants to work_. - -The boy in the first instance went for a month, or any term agreed -upon, “on trial,” or “to see how he would suit for the business.” -During this period of probation he was usually well treated and well -fed (whatever the character of the master), with little to do beyond -running errands, and observing the mode of work of the experienced -climbers. When, however, he was “bound” as an apprentice, he was put -with another lad who had been for some time at the business. The new -boy was sent first up the chimney, and immediately followed by the -other, who instructed him how to ascend. This was accomplished by the -pressure of the knees and the elbows against the sides of the flue. By -pressing the knees tightly the child managed to raise his arms somewhat -higher, and then by pressing his elbows in like manner he contrived -to draw up his legs, and so on. The inside of the flue presented a -smooth surface, and there were no inequalities where the fingers or -toes could be inserted. Should the young beginner fall, he was sure to -light on the shoulders of the boy beneath him, who always kept himself -firmly fixed in expectation of such a mishap, and then the novice had -to commence anew; in this manner the twain reached the top by degrees, -sweeping down the soot, and descended by the same method. This practice -was very severe, especially on new boys, whose knees and elbows were -torn by the pressure and the slipping down continually--the skin being -stripped off, and frequently breaking out in frightful sores, from the -constant abrasions, and from the soot and dirt getting into them. - -In his evidence before Parliament in 1817 (for there had been previous -inquiries), Mr. Cook gave an account of the training of these boys, and -on being asked:--“Do the elbows and knees of the boys, when they first -begin the business, become very sore, and afterwards get callous, and -are those boys employed in sweeping chimneys during the soreness of -those parts?” answered, “It depends upon the sort of master they have -got; some are obliged to put them to work sooner than others; you must -keep them a little at it, or they will never learn their business, even -during the sores.” He stated further, that the skin broke generally, -and that the boys could not ascend chimneys during the sores without -_very_ great pain. “The way that I learn boys is,” he continued, “to -put some cloths over their elbows and over their knees till they get -the nature of the chimney--till they get a little used to it: we call -it _padding_ them, and then we take them off, and they get very little -grazed indeed after they have got the art; but very few will take that -trouble. Some boys’ flesh is far worse than others, and it takes more -time to harden them.” He was then asked:--“Do those persons still -continue to employ them to climb chimneys?” and the answer was: “Some -do; it depends upon the character of the master. None of them of that -class keep them till they get well; none. They are obliged to climb -with those sores upon them. I never had one of my own apprentices do -that.” This system of padding, however, was but little practised; -but in what proportion it _was_ practised, unless by the respectable -masters, who were then but few in number, the Parliamentary papers, -the only information on the subject now attainable, do not state. -The inference is, that the majority, out of but 20 of these masters, -with some 80 or 100 apprentices, did treat them well, and what was so -accounted. The customary way of training these boys, then, was such as -I have described; some even of the better masters, whose boys were in -the comparison well lodged and fed, and “sent to the Sunday school” -(which seems to have comprised all needful education), considered -“padding and such like” to be “new-fangled nonsense.” - -I may add also, that although the boy carried up a brush with him, it -was used but occasionally, only when there were “turns” or defects in -the chimney, the soot being brought down by the action of the shoulders -and limbs. The climber wore a cap to protect his eyes and mouth from -the soot, and a sort of flannel tunic, his feet, legs, and arms being -bare. Some of these lads were surprisingly quick. One man told me -that, when in his prime as a climbing boy, he could reach the top of a -chimney about as quickly as a person could go up stairs to the attics. - -The following is from the evidence of Mr. Cook, frequently cited as an -excellent master:-- - -“What mode do you adopt to get the boy to go up the chimney in the -first instance?--We persuade him as well as we can; we generally -practise him in one of our own chimneys first; one of the boys -who knows the trade goes up behind him, and when he has practised -it perhaps ten times, though some will require twenty times, they -generally can manage it. The boy goes up with him to keep him from -falling; after that, the boy will manage to go up with himself, after -going up and down several times with one under him: we do this, because -if he happens to make a slip he will be caught by the other. - -“Do you find many boys show repugnance to go up at first?--Yes, most of -them. - -“And if they resist and reject, in what way do you force them up?--By -telling them we must take them back again to their father and mother, -and give them up again; and their parents are generally people who -cannot maintain them. - -“So that they are afraid of going back to their parents for fear of -being starved?--Yes; they go through a deal of hardship before they -come to our trade. - -“Did you use any more violent means?--Sometimes a rod. - -“Did you ever hear of straw being lighted under them?--Never. - -“You never heard of any means being made use of, except being beat and -being sent home?--No; no other. - -“You are aware, of course, that those means being gentle or harsh must -depend very much upon the character of the individual master?--It does. - -“Of course you must know that there are persons of harsh and cruel -disposition; have you not often heard of masters treating their -apprentices with great cruelty, particularly the little boys, in -forcing them to go up those small flues, which the boys were unwilling -to ascend?--Yes; I have forced up many a one myself. - -“By what means?--By threatenings, and by giving them a kick or a slap.” - -It was also stated that the journeymen used the boys with greater -cruelty than did the masters--indeed a delegated tyranny is often -the worst--that for very little faults they kicked and slapped the -children, and sometimes flogged them with a cat, “made of rope, hard at -each end, and as thick as your thumb.” - -Mr. John Fisher, a master chimney-sweeper, said:--“Many masters, are -very severe with their children. To make them go up the chimneys I have -seen them make them strip themselves naked; I have been obliged myself -to go up a chimney naked.” - -As respects the cruelties of driving boys up chimneys by kindling straw -beneath their feet, or thrusting pins into the soles of their feet, I -find the following statements given on the authority of B. M. Forster, -Esq., a private gentleman residing in Walthamstow:-- - -“A lad was ordered to sweep a chimney at Wandsworth; he came down -after endeavouring to ascend, and this occurred several times before -he gave up the point; at last the journeyman took some straw or hay, -and lighted it under him to drive him up: when he endeavoured to get -up the last time, he found there was a bar across the chimney, which -he could not pass; he was obliged in consequence to come down, and the -journeyman beat him so cruelly, to use his own expression, that he -could not stand for a fortnight. - -“In the whole city of Norwich I could find only nine climbing boys, -two of whom I questioned on many particulars; one was with respect to -the manner in which they are taught to climb; they both agreed in that -particular, that a larger boy was sent up behind them to prick their -feet, if they did not climb properly. I purposely avoided mentioning -about pricking them with pins, but asked them how they did it; they -said that they thrust the pins into the soles of their feet. A third -instance occurred at Walthamstow; a man told me that some he knew had -been taught in the same way; I believe it to be common, but I cannot -state any more instances from authority.” - -3. On the subject of the _sores, bruises, wounds, burns, and diseases_, -to which chimney-sweepers in their apprenticeships were not only -exposed, but, as it were, condemned, Mr. R. Wright, a surgeon, on being -examined before the Committee, said, “I shall begin with _Deformity_. -I am well persuaded that the deformity of the spine, legs, arms, &c., -of chimney-sweepers, generally, if not wholly, proceeds from the -circumstance of their being obliged not only to go up chimneys at an -age when their bones are in a soft and growing state, but likewise from -their being compelled by their too merciless masters and mistresses -to carry bags of soot (and those very frequently for a great length -of distance and time) by far too heavy for their tender years and -limbs. The knees and ancle joints mostly become deformed, in the first -instance, from the position they are obliged to put them in, in order -to support themselves, not only while climbing up the chimney, but more -particularly so in that of coming down, when they rest solely on the -lower extremities. - -“_Sore eyes and eyelids_, are the next to be considered. -Chimney-sweepers are very subject to inflammation of the eyelids, -and not unfrequently weakness of sight, in consequence of such -inflammation. This I attribute to the circumstance of the soot lodging -on the eyelids, which first produces irritability of the part, and the -constantly rubbing them with their dirty hands, instead of alleviating, -increases the disease; for I have observed in a number of cases, when -the patient has ceased for a time to follow the business, and of course -the original cause has been removed, that with washing and keeping -clean they were soon got well. - -“_Sores_, for the same reasons, are generally a long time in healing. - -“_Cancer_ is another and a most formidable disease, which -chimney-sweepers in particular are liable to, especially that of -the scrotum; from which circumstance, by way of distinction, it is -called the ‘chimney-sweeper’s cancer.’ Of this sort of cancer I have -seen several instances, some of which have been operated on; but, -in general, they are apt to let them go too far before they apply -for relief. Cancers of the lips are not so general as cancers of the -scrotum. I never saw but two instances of the former, and several of -the latter.” - -The “chimney-sweep’s cancer” was always lectured upon as a separate -disease at Guy’s and Bartholomew’s Hospitals, and on the question -being put to Mr. Wright: “Do the physicians who are intrusted with -the care and management of those hospitals think that disease of such -common occurrence, that it is necessary to make it a part of surgical -education?”--he replied: “Most assuredly; I remember Mr. Cline and Mr. -Cooper were particular on that subject; and having one or two cases -of the kind in the hospital, it struck my mind very forcibly. With -the permission of the Committee I will relate a case that occurred -lately, which I had from one of the pupils of St. Thomas’s Hospital; -he informed me that they recently had a case of a chimney-sweeper’s -cancer, which was to have been operated on that week, but the man -‘brushed’ (to use their expression) or rather walked off; he would -not submit to the operation: similar instances of which I have known -myself. They dread so much the knife, in consequence of foolish persons -telling them it is so formidable an operation, and that they will die -under it. I conceive without the operation it is death; for cancers are -of that nature that unless you extricate them entirely they will never -be cured.” - -Of the chimney-sweeper’s cancer, the following statement is given in -the Report: “Mr. Cline informed your Committee by letter, that this -disease is rarely seen in any other persons than chimney-sweepers, -and in them cannot be considered as frequent; for during his practice -in St. Thomas’s hospital, for more than 40 years, the number of those -could not exceed 20. But your Committee have been informed that the -dread of the operation which it is necessary to perform, deters many -from submitting to it; and from the evidence of persons engaged in the -trade, it appears to be much more common than Mr. Cline seems to be -aware of. - -“_Cough and Asthma._--Chimney-sweepers are, from their being out at all -hours and in all weathers, very liable to cough and inflammation of the -chest. - -“_Burns._--They are very subject to burns, from their being forced -up chimneys while on fire, or soon after they have been on fire, and -while over-heated; and however they may cry out, their inhuman masters -pay not the least attention, but compel them, too often with horrid -imprecations, to proceed. - -“_Stunted growth_, in this unfortunate race of the community, is -attributed, in a great measure, to their being brought into the -business at a very early age.” - - * * * * * - -To _accidents_ they were frequently liable in the pursuit of their -callings, and sometimes these accidents were the being jammed or fixed, -or, as it was called in the trade, “stuck,” in narrow and heated flues, -sometimes for hours, and until death. - -Among these hapless lads were indeed many deaths from accidents, -cruelty, privation, and exhaustion, but it does not appear that the -number was ever ascertained. There were also many narrow escapes from -dreadful deaths. I give instances of each:-- - -“On Monday morning, the 29th of March, 1813, a chimney-sweeper of the -name of Griggs, attended to sweep a small chimney in the brewhouse of -Messrs. Calvert and Co., in Upper Thames-street; he was accompanied -by one of his boys, a lad of about eight years of age, of the name of -Thomas Pitt. The fire had been lighted as early as two o’clock the -same morning, and was burning on the arrival of Griggs and his little -boy at eight; the fire-place was small, and an iron pipe projected -from the grate some little distance, into the flue; this the master -was acquainted with (having swept the chimneys in the brewhouse for -some years) and therefore had a tile or two taken from the roof, -in order that the boy might descend the chimney. He had no sooner -extinguished the fire than he suffered the lad to go down; and the -consequence, as might be expected, was his almost immediate death, -in a state, no doubt, of inexpressible agony. The flue was of the -narrowest description, and must have retained heat sufficient to have -prevented the child’s return to the top, even supposing he had not -approached the pipe belonging to the grate, which must have been nearly -red-hot; this, however, was not clearly ascertained on the inquest, -though the appearance of the body would induce an opinion that he had -been unavoidably pressed against the pipe. Soon after his descent, the -master, who remained on the top, was apprehensive that something had -happened, and therefore desired him to come up; the answer of the boy -was, ‘I cannot come up, master; I must die here.’ An alarm was given -in the brewhouse, immediately, that he had stuck in the chimney, and a -bricklayer who was at work near the spot attended, and after knocking -down part of the brickwork of the chimney, just above the fire-place, -made a hole sufficiently large to draw him through. A surgeon attended, -but all attempts to restore life were ineffectual. On inspecting the -body, various burns appeared; the fleshy part of the legs, and a great -part of the feet more particularly, were injured; those parts, too, by -which climbing boys most effectually ascend or descend chimneys, viz., -the elbows and knees, seemed burnt to the bone; from which it must be -evident that the unhappy sufferer made some attempts to return as soon -as the horrors of his situation became apparent.” - -“In the improvement made some years since by the Bank of England, in -Lothbury, a chimney, belonging to a Mr. Mildrum, a baker, was taken -down, but before he began to bake, in order to see that the rest of -the flue was clear, a boy was sent up, and after remaining some time, -and not answering to the call of his master, another boy was ordered -to descend from the top of the flue and to meet him half-way; but this -being found impracticable, they opened the brickwork in the lower -part of the flue, and found the first-mentioned boy dead. In the mean -time the boy in the upper part of the flue called out for relief, -saying, he was completely jammed in the rubbish and was unable to -extricate himself. Upon this a bricklayer was employed with the utmost -expedition, but he succeeded only in obtaining a lifeless body. The -bodies were sent to St. Margaret’s Church, Lothbury, and a coroner’s -inquest, which sat upon them, returned the verdict--Accidental Death.” - -“In the beginning of the year 1808, a chimney-sweeper’s boy being -employed to sweep a chimney in Marsh-street, Walthamstow, in the house -of Mr. Jeffery, carpenter, unfortunately, in his attempt to get down, -stuck in the flue and was unable to extricate himself. Mr. Jeffery, -being within hearing of the boy, immediately procured assistance. -As the chimney was low, and the top of it easily accessible from -without, the boy was taken out in about ten minutes, the chimney-pot -and several rows of bricks having been previously removed; if he had -remained in that dreadful situation many minutes longer, he must have -died. His master was sent for, and he arrived soon after the boy had -been released; he abused him for the accident, and, after striking -him, sent him with a bag of soot to sweep another chimney. The child -appeared so very weak when taken out that he could scarcely stand, and -yet this wretched being, who had been up ever since three o’clock, had -before been sent by his master to Wanstead, which with his walk to -Marsh-street made about five miles.” - -“In May, 1817, a boy employed in sweeping a chimney in Sheffield -got wedged fast in one of the flues, and remained in that situation -near two hours before he could be extricated, which was at length -accomplished by pulling down part of the chimney.” - -On one occasion a child remained above two hours in some danger in a -chimney, rather than venture down and encounter his master’s anger. -The man was held to bail, which he could not procure. - -As in the cases I have described (at Messrs. Calvert’s, and in -Lothbury), the verdict was usually “Accidental Death,” or something -equivalent. - -It was otherwise, however, where wilful cruelty was proven. - -The following case was a subject of frequent comment at the time:-- - -“On Friday, 31st May, 1816, William Moles and Sarah his wife, were -tried at the Old Bailey for the wilful murder of John Hewley, alias -Haseley, a boy about six years of age, in the month of April last, by -cruelly beating him. Under the direction of the learned judge, they -were acquitted of the crime of murder, but the husband was detained to -take his trial as for a misdemeanor, of which he was convicted upon -the fullest evidence, and sentenced to two years’ imprisonment. The -facts, as proved in this case, are too shocking in detail to relate: -the substance of them is, that he was forced up the chimney on the -shoulder of a bigger boy, and afterwards violently pulled down again by -the leg and dashed upon a marble hearth; his leg was thus broken, and -death ensued in a few hours, and on his body and knees were found scars -arising from wounds of a much older date.” - - * * * * * - -This long-continued system of cruelties, of violations of public and -private duties, bore and ripened its natural fruits. The climbing boys -grew up to be unhealthy, vicious, ignorant, and idle men, for during -their apprenticeships their labour was over early in the day, and -they often passed away their leisure in gambling in the streets with -one another and other children of their stamp, as they frequently had -halfpence given to them. They played also at “chuck and toss” with -the journeymen, and of course were stripped of every farthing. Thus -they became indolent and fond of excitement. When a lad ceased to be -an apprentice, although he might be but 16, he was too big to climb, -and even if he got employment as a journeyman, his remuneration was -wretched, only 2_s._ a week, with his board and lodging. There were, -however, far fewer complaints of being insufficiently fed than might -have been expected, but the sleeping places were execrable: “They sleep -in different places,” it was stated, “sometimes in sheds, and sometimes -in places which we call barracks (large rooms), or in the cellar (where -the soot was kept); some never sleep upon anything that can be called a -bed; some do.” - -Mr. T. Allen, a master sweep for 22 years, gave the Committee the -following account of _the men’s earnings and_ (what may be called) _the -General Perquisites of the trade_ under the exploded system:-- - -“If a man be 25 years of age, he has no more than 2_s._ a week; he -is not clothed, only fed and lodged in the same manner as the boys. -The 2_s._ a week is not sufficient to find him clothes and other -necessaries, certainly not; it is hardly enough to find him with -shoe-leather, for they walk over a deal of ground in going about the -streets. The journeyman is able to live upon those wages, for he gets -halfpence given him: supposing he is 16 or 20 years of age, he gets -the boys’ pence from them and keeps it; and if he happens to get a job -for which he receives a 1_s._, he gets 6_d._ of that, and his master -the other 6_d._ The boys’ pence are what the boys get after they -have been doing their master’s work; they get a 1_d._ or so, and the -journeyman takes it from them, and ‘licks’ them if they do not give it -up.” [These “jobs,” after the master’s work had been done, were chance -jobs, as when a journeyman on his round was called on by a stranger, -and unexpectedly, to sweep a chimney. Sometimes, by arrangement of -the journeyman and the lad, the proceeds never reached the master’s -pocket. Sometimes, but rarely, such jobs were the journeyman’s rightful -perquisite.] “Men,” proceeds Mr. Allen, “who are 22 and 23 years of -age will play with the young boys and win their money. That is, they -get half the money from them by force, and the rest by fraud. They are -driven to this course from the low wages which the masters give them, -because they have no other means to get anything for themselves, not -even the few necessaries which they may want; for even what they want -to wash with they must get themselves. As to what becomes of the money -the boys get on May-day, when they are in want of clothes, the master -will buy them, as check shirts or handkerchiefs. These masters get a -share of the money which the boys collect on May-day. The boys have -about 1_s._ or 1_s._ 6_d._; the journeyman has also his share; then the -master takes the remainder, which is to buy the boys’ clothes and other -necessaries, as they say. I cannot exactly tell what the average amount -is that a boy will get on the May-day; the most that my boy ever got -was 5_s._ But I think that the boys get more than that; I should think -they get as much as 9_s._ or 10_s._ apiece. The Christmas-boxes are -generally, I believe, divided among themselves (among the boys); but I -cannot say rightly. It is spent in buying silk handkerchiefs, or Sunday -shoes, I believe; but I am not perfectly sure.” - -Of the condition and lot of the operatives who were too big to go -up chimneys, Mr. J. Fisher, a master-sweeper, gave the following -account:--“_They get into a roving way, and go about from one master to -another, and they often come to no good end at last_. They sometimes -go into the country, and after staying there some time, they come -back again; I took a boy of that sort very lately and kept him like -my own, and let him go to school; he asked me one Sunday to let him -go to school, and I was glad to let him go, and I gave him leave; he -accordingly went, and I have seen nothing of him since; before he went -he asked me if I would let him come home to see my child buried; I -told him to ask his school-master, but he did not come back again. I -cannot tell what has become of him; he was to have served me for twelve -months. I did not take him from the parish; he came to me. He said his -parents were dead. _The effect of the roving habit of the large boys -when they become too large to climb, is, that they get one with another -and learn bad habits from one another; they never will stop long in any -one place._ They frequently go into the country and get various places; -perhaps they stop a month at each; some try to get masters themselves, -and some will get into bad company, which very often happens. _Then -they turn thieves, they get lazy, they won’t work, and people do not -like to employ them lest they should take anything out of their houses. -The generality of them never settle in any steady business._ They -generally turn loose characters, and people will not employ them lest -they should take anything out of the house.” - -The criminal annals of the kingdom bear out the foregoing account. Some -of these boys, indeed, when they attained man’s estate, became, in a -great measure, through their skill in climbing, expert and enterprising -burglars, breaking into places where few men would have cared to -venture. One of the most daring feats ever attempted and accomplished -was the escape from Newgate by a sweeper about 15 years ago. He climbed -by the aid of his knees and elbows a height of nearly 80 feet, though -the walls, in the corner of the prison-yard, where this was done, were -nearly of an even surface; the slightest slip could not have failed to -have precipitated the sweeper to the bottom. He was then under sentence -of death for highway robbery. - -“His name was Whitehead, and he done a more wonderfuller thing nor -that,” remarked an informant, who had been his master. “We was sweeping -the bilers in a sugar-house, and he went from the biler up the flue of -the chimney, it was nearly as high as the Monument, that chimney; I -should say it was 30 or 40 feet higher nor the sugar-house. He got out -at the top, and slid down the bare brickwork on the outside, on to the -roof of the house, got through an attic window in the roof, and managed -to get off without any one knowing what became of him. That was the -most wonderfullest thing I ever knowed in my life. I don’t know how -he escaped from being killed, but he was always an oudacious feller. -It was nearly three months after afore we found him in the country. I -don’t know where they sent him to after he was brought back to Newgate, -but I hear they made him a turnkey in a prison somewhere, and that he’s -doing very well now.” The feat at the sugar-house could be only to -escape from his apprenticeship. - -In the course of the whole Parliamentary evidence the sweepers, reared -under the old climbing system, are spoken of as a “short-lived” race, -but no statistics could be given. Some died old men in middle age, in -the workhouses. _Many were mere vagrants at the time of their death._ - -I took the statement of a man who had been what he called a “climbing” -in his childhood, but as he is now a master-sweeper, and has indeed -gone through all grades of the business, I shall give it in my account -of the present condition of the sweepers. - -Climbing is still occasionally resorted to, especially when repairs are -required, “but the climbing boys,” I was told, “are now men.” These are -slight dwarfish men, whose services are often in considerable request, -and cannot at all times be commanded, as there are only about twenty -of them in London, so effectually has climbing been suppressed. These -little men, I was told, did pretty well, not unfrequently getting 2_s._ -or 2_s._ 6_d._ for a single job. - -As regards the _labour question_, during the existence of the climbing -boys, we find in the Report the following results:-- - -The _nominal_ wages to the journeymen were 2_s._ a week, with board and -lodging. The apprentices received no wages, their masters being only -required to feed, lodge, and clothe them. - -The _actual_ wages were the same as the nominal, with the addition of -1_s._ as perquisites in money. There were other perquisites in liquor -or broken meat. - -In the Reports are no accounts of the duration of labour throughout the -year, nor can I obtain from master-sweepers, who were in the business -during the old mode, any sufficient data upon which to found any -calculations. The employment, however, seems to have been generally -_continuous_, running through the year, though in the course of the -twelvemonth one master would have four and another six different -journeymen, but only one at a time. The vagrant propensities of the -class is a means of accounting for this. - -The _nominal_ wages of those journeymen who resided in their own -apartments were generally 14_s._ a week, and their _actual_ about -2_s._ 6_d._ extra in the form of perquisites. Others resided “on the -premises,” having the care of the boys, with board and lodgings and -5_s._ a week in money _nominally_, and 7_s._ 6_d._ _actually_, the -perquisites being worth 2_s._ 6_d._ - -Concerning the _general_ or average wages of the whole trade, I can -only present the following computation. - -Mr. Tooke, in his evidence before the House of Commons, stated -that the Committee, of which he was a member, had ascertained that -one boy on an average swept about four chimneys daily, at prices -varying from 6_d._ to 1_s._ 6_d._, or a medium return of about 10_d._ -per chimney, exclusive of the soot, then worth 8_d._ or 9_d._ a -bushel. “It appears,” he said, “from a datum I have here, that those -chimney-sweepers who keep six boys (the greatest number allowed by law) -gain, on an average, nearly 270_l._; five boys, 225_l._; four boys, -180_l._; three boys, 135_l._; two boys, 90_l._; and one boy 45_l._ -(yearly), exclusive of the soot, which is, I should suppose, upon an -average, from half a bushel to a bushel every time the chimney is -swept.” - -“Out of the profits you mention,” he was then asked, “the master has to -maintain the boys?”--“Yes,” was the answer, “and when the expenses of -house and cellar rent, and the wages of journeymen, and the maintenance -of apprentices, are taken into the account, the number of master -chimney-sweepers is not only more than the trade will support, but -exceeds, by above one-third, what the public exigency requires. The -Committee also ascertained that the 200 master chimney-sweepers in the -metropolis were supposed to have in their employment 150 journeymen and -500 boys.” - -The matter may be reduced to a tabular form, expressing the amount in -money--for it is not asserted that the masters generally gained on the -charge for their journeymen’s board and lodging--as follows:-- - - -EXPENDITURE OF MASTER CHIMNEY-SWEEPERS UNDER THE CLIMBING-BOY SYSTEM. - - Yearly. - 20 journeymen at individual wages, - 14_s._ each weekly £780 - 30 ditto, say 12_s._ weekly 936 - 100 ditto, 10_s._ ditto 2,600 - Board, Lodging, and Clothing of - 500 boys, 4_s._ 6_d._ weekly 5,850 - Rent, 20 large traders, 10_s._ 520 - Do. 30 others, 7_s._ 546 - Do. 150 do., 3_s._ 6_d._ 1,365 - 20 horses (keep), 10_s._ 520 - General wear and tear 200 - ------- - £13,317 - -It appears that about 180 of the master chimney-sweepers were -themselves working men, in the same way as their journeymen. - -The following, then, may be taken as the-- - - -YEARLY RECEIPTS OF THE MASTER SWEEPERS UNDER THE CLIMBING-BOY SYSTEM. - - Yearly. - Payment for sweeping 624,000 - chimneys (4 daily, according to evidence - before Parliament, by each of - 500 boys), 10_d._ per chimney, or yearly £26,000 - - Soot (according to same account), - say 5_d._ per chimney 13,000 - ------ - Total £39,000 - Yearly expenditure 13,317 - ------- - Yearly profit £25,683 - -This yielded, then, according to the information submitted to the -House of Commons Select Committee, as the profits of the trade prior -to 1817, an individual yearly gain to each master sweeper of 128_l._; -but, taking Mr. Tooke’s average yearly profit for the six classes of -tradesmen, 270_l._, 225_l._, 180_l._, 135_l._, 90_l._, and 45_l._ -respectively, the individual profit averages above 157_l._ - -The capital, I am informed, would not average above two guineas per -master sweeper, nothing being wanted beyond a few common sacks, made by -the sweepers’ wives, and a few brushes. Only about 20 had horses, but -barrows were occasionally hired at a busy time. - -In the foregoing estimates I have not included any sums for apprentice -fees, as I believe there would be something like a balance in the -matter, the masters sometimes paying parents such premiums for the use -of their children as they received from the parishes for the _tuition_ -and maintenance of others. - -Of the _morals_, _education_, _religion_, _marriage_, &c., of sweepers, -under the two systems, I shall speak in another place. - -It may be somewhat curious to conclude with a word of the extent of -chimneys swept by a climbing boy. One respectable master-sweeper told -me that for eleven years he had climbed five or six days weekly. During -this period he thought he had swept fifteen chimneys as a week’s -average, each chimney being at least 40 feet in height; so traversing, -in ascending and descending, 686,400 feet, or 130 miles of a world of -soot. This, however, is little to what has been done by a climber of -30 years’ standing, one of the little men of whom I have spoken. My -informant entertained no doubt that this man had, for the first 22 -years of his career, climbed half as much again as he himself had; or -had traversed 2,059,200 feet of the interior of chimneys, or 390 miles. -Since the new Act this man had of course climbed less, but had still -been a good deal employed; so that, adding his progresses for the last -9 years to the 22 preceding, he must have swept about 456 miles of -chimney interiors. - - -OF THE CHIMNEY-SWEEPERS OF THE PRESENT DAY. - -The chimney-sweepers of the present day are distinguished from those of -old by the use of machines instead of climbing boys, for the purpose of -removing the soot from the flues of houses. - -The chimney-sweeping machines were first used in this country in the -year 1803. They were the invention of Mr. Smart, a carpenter, residing -at the foot of Westminster-bridge, Surrey. On the earlier trials of the -machine (which was similar to that used at present, and which I shall -shortly describe), it was pronounced successful in 99 cases out of 100, -according to some accounts, but failing where sharp angles occurred in -the flue, which arrested its progress. - -“Means have been suggested,” said Mr. Tooke, formerly mentioned, in his -evidence before a Committee of the House of Commons, “for obviating -that difficulty by fixed apparatus at the top of the flue with a -jack-chain and pulley, by which a brush could be worked up and down, -or it could be done as is customary abroad, as I have repeatedly seen -it at Petersburgh, and heard of its being done universally on the -Continent, by letting down a bullet with a brush attached to it from -the top; but to obviate the inconvenience, which is considerable, -from persons going upon the roof of a house, Mr. John White, junior, -an eminent surveyor, has suggested the expediency of putting iron -shutters or registers to each flue, in the roof or cockloft of each -house; by opening which, and working the machine upwards and downwards, -or letting down the bullet, which is the most compendious manner, -the chimney will be most effectually cleansed; and, by its aperture -at bottom being kept well closed, it would be done with the least -possible dirt and inconvenience to the family.” - -[Illustration: ONE OF THE FEW REMAINING CLIMBING SWEEPS. - -[_From a Daguerreotype by_ BEARD.]] - -The society for the supersedence of the labour of climbing boys -promoted the adoption of the machines by all the means in their -power, presenting the new instrument gratuitously to several master -sweepers who were too poor to purchase it. Experiments were made -and duly published as to the effectual manner in which the chimneys -at Guildhall, the Mansion House, the then new Custom House, Dulwich -College, and in other public edifices, had been cleansed by the -machine. But these statements seem to have produced little effect. -People thought, perhaps, that the mechanical means which might very -well cleanse the chimneys of large public buildings--and it was said -that the chimneys of the Custom House were built with a view to the -use of the machine--might not be so serviceable for the same purposes -in small private dwellings. Experiments continued to be made, often in -the presence of architects, of the more respectable sweepers, and of -ladies and gentlemen who took a philanthropic interest in the question, -between the years 1803 and 1817, but with little influence upon the -general public, for in 1817 Mr. Smart supposed that there were but 50 -or 60 machines in general use in the metropolis, and those, it appeared -from the evidence of several master sweepers, were used chiefly in -gentlemen’s houses, many of those gentlemen having to be authoritative -with their servants, who, if not controlled, always preferred the -services of the climbing boys. Most servants had perquisites from the -master sweepers, in the largest and most profitable ways of business, -and they seemed to fear the loss of those perquisites if any change -took place. - -The opposition in Parliament, and in the general indifference of -the people, to the efforts of “the friends of the climbing boy” to -supersede his painful labours by the use of machinery, was formidable -enough, but that of the servants appears to have been more formidable -still. Mr. Smart showed this in his explanations to the Committee. -The whole result of his experience was that servants set their faces -against the introduction of the machine, grumbling if there were not -even the appearance of dirt on the furniture after its use. “The first -winter I went out with this machine,” said Mr. Smart, “I went to Mr. -Burke’s in Token-house Yard, who was a friend of mine, with a man to -sweep the chimneys, and after waiting above an hour in a cold morning, -the housekeeper came down quite in a rage, that we should presume to -ring the bell or knock at the door; and when we got admittance, she -swore she wished the machine and the inventor at the devil; she did -not know me. We swept all the chimneys, and when we had done I asked -her what objection she had to it now; she said, a very serious one, -that if there was a thing by which a servant could get any emolument, -some d----d invention was sure to take it away from them, for that she -received perquisites.” - -This avowal of Mr. Burke’s housekeeper, as brusque as it was honest, is -typical of the feelings of the whole class of servants. - -The opposition in Parliament, as I have intimated, continued. One noble -lord informed the House of Peers that he had been indisposed of late -and had sought the aid of calomel, the curative influence of which had -pervaded every portion of his frame; and that it as far surpassed the -less searching powers of other medicines, as the brush of the climbing -boy in cleansing every nook and corner of the chimney, surpassed all -the power of the machinery, which left the soot unpurged from those -nooks and corners. - -The House of Commons, however, had expressed its conviction that as -long as master chimney-sweepers were permitted to employ climbing -boys, the natural result of that permission would be the continuance -of those miseries which the Legislature had sought, but which it had -failed, to put an end to; and they therefore recommended that the use -of climbing boys should be prohibited altogether; and that the age at -which the apprenticeship should commence should be extended from eight -to fourteen, putting this trade upon the same footing as others which -took apprentices at that age. - -This resolution became law in 1829. The employment of climbing boys in -any manner in the interior of chimneys was prohibited under penalties -of fine and imprisonment; and it was enacted that the new measure -should be carried into effect in three years, so giving the master -sweepers that period of time to complete their arrangements. During the -course of the experiments and inquiry, the sweepers, as a body, seem to -have thrown no obstacles, or very few and slight obstacles, in the way -of the “Committee to promote the Superseding of the Labour of Climbing -Boys;” while the most respectable of the class, or the majority of the -respectable, aided the efforts of the Committee. - -This manifestation of public feeling probably modified the opposition -of the sweepers, and unquestionably influenced the votes of members -of Parliament. The change in the operations of the chimney-sweeping -business took place in 1832, as quietly and unnoticedly as if it were -no change at all. - -The machine now in use differs little from that invented by Mr. Smart, -the first introduced, but lighter materials are now used in its -manufacture. It has not been found necessary, however, to complicate -its use with the jack-chain and pulley, and bullet with a brush -attached, and the iron shutters or registers in the roof or cockloft, -of which Mr. Tooke spoke. - -The machine is formed of a series of hollow rods, made of a supple -cane, bending and not breaking in any sinuosity of the flues. This -cane is made of the same material as gentlemen’s walking-sticks. The -first machines were made of wood, and were liable to be broken; and -to enable the sweeps on such occasions to recover the broken part, a -strong line ran from bottom to top through the centre of the sticks, -which were bored for the purpose, and strung on this cord. The cane -machine, however, speedily and effectually superseded these imperfect -instruments; and there are now none of them to be met with. To the -top tube of the machine is attached the “brush,” called technically -“the head,” of elastic whalebone spikes, which “give” and bend, in -accordance with the up or down motion communicated by the man working -the machine, so sweeping what was described to me as “both ways,” up -and down. - -Some of these rods, which fit into one another by means of brass -screws, are 4 feet 6 inches long, and diminish in diameter to suit -their adjustment. Some rods are but 3 feet 6 inches long, and 4 feet is -the full average length; while the average price at the machine maker’s -is 2_s._ 6_d._ a rod, if bought separately. The head costs 10_s._, -on an average, if bought separately. It is seldom that a machine is -required to number beyond 17 rods (extending 68 feet), and the better -class of sweepers are generally provided with 17 rods. The cost of the -entire machine, for every kind of chimney-work, when purchased new, as -a whole, is, when of good quality, from 30_s._ to 5_l._, according to -the number of rods, duplicate rods, &c. Mr. Smart stated, in 1817, that -the average price of one of his machines was then 2_l._ 3_s._ - -The sweepers who labour chiefly in the poorer localities--and several -told me how indifferent many people in those parts were as to their -chimneys being swept at all--rarely use a machine to extend beyond 40 -feet, or one composed of 10 or 11 rods; but some of the inferior class -of sweepers buy of those in a superior way of trade worn machines, at -from a third to a half of the prime cost. These machines they trim up -themselves. One portion of the work, however, they cannot repair or -renew--the broken or worn-out brass screws of the rods, which they call -the “ferules.” These, when new, are 1_s._ each. There were, when the -machine-work was novel, I was informed, street-artizans who went about -repairing these screws or ferules; but their work did not please the -chimney-sweepers, and this street-trade did not last above a year or -two. - -The rods of the machine, when carefully attended to, last a long time. -One man told me that he was still working some rods which he had worked -since 1842 (nine years), with occasional renewal of the ferules. The -head is either injured or worn down in about two years; if not well -made at first, in a year. The diameter of this head or brush is, on the -average, 18 inches. One of my informants had himself swept a chimney -of 80 feet, and one of his fellow-workers had said that he once swept -a chimney of 120 feet high; in both cases by means of the machine. -My informant, however, thought such a feat as the 120-feet sweep was -hardly possible, as only one man’s strength can be applied to the -machine; and he was of opinion that no man’s muscular powers would be -sufficient to work a machine at a height of 120 feet. The labour is -sometimes very severe; “enough,” one strongly-built man told me, “to -make your arms, head, and heart ache.” - -The old-fashioned chimneys are generally 12 by 14 inches in their -dimensions in the interior; and for the thorough sweeping of such -chimneys--the opinion of all the sweepers I saw according on the -subject--a head (it is rarely called brush in the trade) of 18 inches -diameter is insufficient, yet they are seldom used larger. One -intelligent master sweeper, speaking from his own knowledge, told -me that in the neighbourhood where he worked numbers of houses had -been built since the introduction of the machines, and the chimneys -were only 9 inches square, as regards the interior; the smaller -flues are sometimes but 7. These 9-inch chimneys, he told me, were -frequent in “scamped” houses, houses got up at the lowest possible -rate by speculating builders. This was done because the brickwork -of the chimneys costs more than the other portions of the masonry, -and so the smaller the dimensions of the chimneys the less the cost -of the edifice. The machines are sometimes as much crippled in this -circumscribed space as they are found of insufficient dimensions in -the old-fashioned chimneys; and so the “scamped” chimney, unless by a -master having many “heads,” is not so cleanly swept as it might be. -Chimneys not built in this manner are now usually 9 inches by 14. - -In cleansing a chimney with the machine the sweep stands by, or rather -in, the fire-place, having first attached a sort of curtain to the -mantle to confine the soot to one spot, the operator standing inside -this curtain. He first introduces the “head,” attached to its proper -rod, into the chimney, “driving” it forward, then screws on the next -rod, and so on, until the head has been driven to the top of the -chimney. The soot which has fallen upon the hearth, within the curtain, -is collected into a sack or sacks, and is carried away on the men’s -backs, and occasionally in carts. The whalebone spikes of the head are -made to extend in every direction, so that when it is moved no part -of the chimney, if the surface be even, escapes contact with these -spikes, if the work be carefully done, as indeed it generally is; for -the cleaner the chimney is swept of course the greater amount of soot -adds to the profit of the sweeper. One man told me that he thought -he had seen in some old big chimneys, a long time unswept, more soot -brought down by the machine than, under similar circumstances as to the -time the chimney had remained uncleansed, would have been done by the -climbing boy. - -All the master sweepers I saw concurred in the opinion that the -machine was _not_ in all respects so effective a sweeper as the -climbing boy, as it does not reach the recesses, nooks, crannies, or -holes in the chimney, where the soot remains little disturbed by the -present process. This want is felt the most in the cleansing of the -old-fashioned chimneys, especially in the country. - -Mr. Cook, in 1817, stated to the Committee that the cleansing of a -chimney by a boy or by a machine occupied the same space of time; but I -find the general opinion of the sweepers now to be that it is only the -small and straight chimneys which can be swept with as great celerity -by a machine as by a climber; in all others the lad was quicker by -about 5 minutes in 30, or in that proportion. - -I heard sweepers represent that the passing of the Act of Parliament -not only deprived them in many instances of the unexpired term of a -boy’s apprenticeship in his services as a climber, but “threw open -the business to any one.” The business, however, it seems, was always -“open to any one.” There was no art nor mystery in it, as regarded -the functions of the master; any one could send a boy up a chimney, -and collect and carry away the soot he brought down, quite as readily -and far more easily than he can work a machine. Nevertheless, men -under the old system could hardly (and some say they were forbidden -to) embark in this trade unless they had been apprenticed to it; for -they were at a loss how to possess themselves of climbing boys, and -how to make a connection. When the machines were introduced, however, -a good many persons who were able to “raise the price” of one started -in the line on their own account. These men have been called by the -old hands “leeks” or “green ’uns,” to distinguish them from the -regularly-trained men, who pride themselves not a little on the fact -of their having served seven or eight years, “duly and truly,” as they -never fail to express it. This increase of fresh hands tended to lower -the earnings of the class; and some masters, who were described to -me as formerly very “comfortable,” and some, comparatively speaking, -rich, were considerably reduced by it. The number of “leeks” in 1832 -I heard stated, with the exaggeration to which I have been accustomed -when uninformed men, ignorant of the relative value of numbers, have -expressed their opinions, as 1000! - -The several classes in the chimney-sweeping trade may be arranged as -follows:-- - -The _Master Chimney-Sweepers_, called sometimes “Governors” by the -journeymen, are divisible into three kinds:-- - -The “large” or “high masters,” who employ from 2 to 10 men and 2 boys, -and keep sometimes 2 horses and a cart, not particularly for the -conveyance of the soot, but to go into the country to a gentleman’s -house to fulfil orders. - -The “small” or “low masters,” who employ, on an average, two men, and -sometimes but one man and a boy, without either horse or cart. - -The “single-handed master-men,” who employ neither men nor boys, but do -all the work themselves. - -Of these three classes of masters there are two subdivisions. - -The “leeks” or “green-uns,” that is to say, those who have not -regularly served their time to the trade. - -The “knullers” or “queriers,” that is to say, those who solicit custom -in an irregular manner, by knocking at the doors of houses and such -like. - -Of the competition of capitalists in this trade there are, I am told, -no instances. “We have our own stations,” one master sweeper said, “and -if I contract to sweep a genelman’s house, here in Pancras, for 25_s._ -a year, or 10_s._, or anythink, my nearest neighbour, as has men and -machines fit, is in Marrybun; and it wouldn’t pay to send his men a -mile and a half, or on to two mile, and work at what I can--let alone -less. No, sir, I’ve known bisness nigh 20 year, and there’s nothink in -the way of that underworking. The poor creeturs as keeps theirselves -with a machine, and nothing to give them a lift beyond it, _they’d_ -undertake work at any figure, but nobody employs or can trust to them, -but on chance.” The contracts, I am told, for a year’s chimney-sweeping -in any mansion are on the same terms with one master as with another. - -As regards the _Journeymen Chimney-Sweepers_ there are also three -kinds:-- - -The “foreman” or “first journeyman” sweeper, who accompanies the men to -their work, superintends their labours, and receives the money, when -paid immediately after sweeping. - -The “journeyman” sweeper, whose duty it is to work the machine, and -(where no under-journeyman, or boy, is kept) to carry the machine and -take home the soot. - -The “under-journeyman” or “boy,” who has to carry the machine, take -home the soot, and work the machine up the lower-class flues. - -There are, besides these, some 20 climbing men, who ascend such flues -as the machines cannot cleanse effectually, and, it must, I regret to -say, be added, some 20 to 30 climbing boys, mostly under eleven years -of age, who are still used for the same purpose “on the sly.” Many of -the masters, indeed, lament the change to machine-sweeping, saying that -their children, who are now useless, would, in “the good old times,” -have been worth a pound a week to them. It is in the suburbs that these -climbing children are mostly employed. - -The _hours of labour_ are from the earliest morning till about midday, -and sometimes later. - -There are _no Houses of Call_, trade societies, or regulations among -these operatives, but there are low public-houses to which they resort, -and where they can always be heard of. - -When a chimney-sweeper is out of work he merely inquires of others in -the same line of business, who, if they know of any one that wants a -journeyman, direct their brother sweeper to call and see the master; -but though the chimney-sweepers have no trade societies, some of the -better class belong to sick, and others to burial, funds. The lower -class of sweepers, however, seem to have no resource in sickness, or in -their utmost need, but the parish. There are sweepers, I am told, in -every workhouse in London. - -There are three _modes of payment common_ among the sweepers:-- - - 1, in money; - 2, partly in money and partly in kind; and - 3, by perquisites. - -The great majority of the masters pay the men they employ from 2_s._ to -3_s._, and a few 4_s._ and 6_s._ per week, together with their board -and lodging. It may seem that 3_s._ per week is a small sum, but it was -remarked to me that there are few working men who, after supporting -themselves, are able to save that sum weekly, while the sweepers -have many perquisites of one sort or other, which sometimes bring -them in 1_s._, 2_s._, 3_s._, 4_s._, and occasionally 5_s._ or 6_s._, -a week additional--a sufficient sum to pay for clothes and washing. -The journeymen, when lodged in the house of the master, are single -men, and if constantly employed might, perhaps, do well, but they are -often unemployed, especially in the summer, when there are not so many -fires kept burning. As soon as one of them gets married, or what among -them is synonymous, “takes up with a woman,” which they commonly do -when they are able to purchase some sort of a machine, they set up -for themselves, and thus a great number of the men get to be masters -on their own account, without being able to employ any extra hands. -These are generally reckoned among the “knullers;” they do but little -business at first, for the masters long established in a neighbourhood, -who are known to the people, and have some standing, are almost always -preferred to those who are strangers or mere beginners. - -It was very common, but perhaps more common in country towns than in -London, for the journeymen, as well as apprentices, in this and many -other trades to live at the master’s table. But the board and lodging -supplied, in lieu of money-wages, to the journeymen sweepers, seems -to be one of the few existing instances of such a practice in London. -Among slop-working tailors and shoemakers, some unfortunate workmen are -boarded and lodged by their employers, but these employers are merely -middlemen, who gain their living by serving such masters as “do not -like to drive their negroes themselves.” But among the sweepers there -are no middlemen. - -It is not all the journeymen sweepers, however, who are remunerated -after this manner, for many receive 12_s._, and some 14_s._, and not a -few 18_s._ weekly, besides perquisites, but reside at their own homes. - -_Apprenticeship_ is now not at all common among the sweepers, as no -training to the business is needed. Lord Shaftesbury, however, in -July last, gave notice of his intention to bring in a bill to prevent -persons who had not been duly apprenticed to the business establishing -themselves as sweepers. - -_The Perquisites_ of the journeymen sweepers are for measuring, -arranging, and putting the soot sold into the purchasers’ sacks, -or carts; for this is considered extra work. The payment of this -perquisite seems to be on no fixed scale, some having 1_s._ for 50, -and some for 100 bushels. When a chimney is on fire and a journeyman -sweeper is employed to extinguish it, he receives from 1_s._ 6_d._ -to 5_s._ according to the extent of time consumed and the risk of -being injured. “Chance sweeping,” or the sweeping of a chimney not -belonging to a customer, when a journeyman has completed his regular -round, ensures him 3_d._ in some employments, but in fewer than was -once the case. The beer-money given by any customer to a journeyman is -also his perquisite. Where a foreman is kept, the “brieze,” or cinders -collected from the grate, belong to him, and the ashes belong to the -journeyman; but where there is no foreman, the brieze and ashes belong -to the journeyman solely. These they sell to the poor at the rate of -6_d._ a bushel. I am told by experienced men that, all these matters -considered, it may be stated that one-half of the journeymen in London -have perquisites of 1_s._ 6_d._, the other half of 2_s._ 6_d._ a week. - -_The Nominal Wages_ to the journeymen, then, are from 12_s._ to 18_s._ -weekly, without board and lodging, or from 2_s._ to 6_s._ in money, -with board and lodging, represented as equal to 7_s._ - -_The Actual Wages_ are 2_s._ 6_d._ a week more in the form of -perquisites, and perhaps 4_d._ daily in beer or gin. - -The wages to the boys are mostly 1_s._ a week, but many masters pay -1_s._ 6_d._ to 2_s._, with board and lodging. These boys have no -perquisites, except such bits of broken victuals as are given to them -at houses where they go to sweep. - -The wages of the foreman are generally 18_s._ per week, but some -receive 14_s._ and some 20_s._ without board and lodging. In one case, -where the foreman is kept by the master, only 2_s._ 6_d._ in money is -given to him weekly. The perquisites of these men average from 4_s._ to -5_s._ a week. - -_The work in the chimney-sweeping trade is more regular than might -at first be supposed._ The sweepers whose circumstances enable them -to employ journeymen send them on regular rounds, and do not engage -“chance” hands. If business is brisk, the men and the master, when a -working man himself, work later than ordinary, and sometimes another -hand is put on and paid the customary amount, by the week, until the -briskness ceases; but this is a rare occurrence. There are, however, -strong lads, or journeymen out of work, who are _occasionally_ employed -in “_jobbing_,” helping to carry the soot and such like. - -The labour of the journeymen, as regards the payment by their masters, -is _continuous_, but the men are often discharged for drunkenness, -or for endeavouring to “form a connection of their own” among their -employers’ customers, and new hands are then put on. “Chimneys won’t -wait, you know, sir,” was said to me, “and if I quit a hand this week, -there’s another in his place next. If I discharge a hand for three -months in a slack time, I have two on when it’s a busy time.” Perhaps -the average employment of the whole body of operatives may be taken -at nine months’ work in the year. When out of employment the chief -resource of these men is in night-work; some turn street-sellers and -bricklayers’ labourers. - -I am told that a considerable sum of money was left for the purpose -of supplying every climbing-boy who called on the first of May at -a certain place, with a shilling and some refreshment, but I have -not been able to ascertain by whom it was left, or where it was -distributed; none of the sweepers with whom I conversed knew anything -about it. I also heard, that since the passing of the Act, the money -has been invested in some securities or other, and is now accumulating, -but to what purpose it is intended to be applied I have no means of -learning. - -Let us now endeavour to estimate the gross yearly income of the -operative sweepers. - -There are, then, 399 men employed as journeymen, and of them 147 -receive a money wage weekly from their masters, and reside with their -parents or at their own places. The remaining 252 are boarded and -lodged. This board and lodging are generally computed, as under the -old system, to represent 8_s._, being 1_s._ a day for board and 1_s._ -a week for lodging. But, on the average, the board does not cost the -masters 7_s._ a week, but, as I shall afterwards show, barely 6_s._ - -The men and boys may be said to be all fully employed for nine months -in the year; some, of course, are at work all the year through, but -others get only six months’ employment in the twelve months; so that -taking nine months as the average, we have the following table of - - -WAGES PAID TO THE OPERATIVE SWEEPERS OF LONDON. - - ------------------------------------------------+-------------+------------ - | Money | - | wages | - JOURNEYMEN. | for nine | - | months. | - _Without board and lodging._ | £ _s._ _d._| - Journeymen per | | - 30 employed by 3 masters, at 18_s._ week |1053 0 0 | - 14 „ 5 „ 16_s._ „ | 436 16 0 | - 6 „ 3 „ 15_s._ „ | 175 10 0 | - 27 „ 8 „ 14_s._ „ | 737 2 0 | - 63 „ 23 „ 12_s._ „ | 474 4 0 | Value of - 7 „ 3 „ 10_s._ „ | 136 10 0 | board and - --- -- +-------------+ lodging - 147 45 |4013 2 0 | for nine - | | months - | | estimated - | | at 7_s._ - _With board and lodging._ | | a week. - Journeymen per | | £ _s._ _d._ - 3 employed by 1 master, at 8_s._ 0_d._ week| 46 16 0 | 40 19 0 - 17 „ 5 „ 6_s._ 0_d._ „ | 198 18 0 | 232 1 0 - 1 „ 1 „ 5_s._ 0_d._ „ | 9 15 0 | 13 13 0 - 41 „ 14 „ 4_s._ 0_d._ „ | 319 16 0 | 559 13 0 - 3 „ 1 „ 3_s._ 6_d._ „ | 20 9 6 | 40 19 0 - 80 „ 39 „ 3_s._ 0_d._ „ | 468 0 0 |1092 0 0 - 53 „ 26 „ 2_s._ 6_d._ „ | 258 7 6 | 723 9 0 - 44 „ 31 „ 2_s._ 0_d._ „ | 171 12 0 | 600 9 8 - 8 „ 4 „ 1_s._ 6_d._ „ | 234 0 0 | 09 4 0 - 2 „ 1 „ 1_s._ 0_d._ „ | 3 18 0 | 27 6 0 - --- --- +-------------+----------- - 252 123 |1731 12 0 |3439 13 8 - | | - FOREMEN. | | - _Without board and lodging._ | | - Foremen per | | - 2 employed by 1 master, at 20_s._ week | 78 0 0 | - 6 „ 4 „ 18_s._ „ | 210 12 0 | - 1 „ 1 „ 16_s._ „ | 31 4 0 | - 2 „ 2 „ 14_s._ „ | 54 12 0 | - -- -- +-------------+ - 11 8 | 374 8 0 | - | | - _With board and lodging._ | | - 1 „ 1 „ 2_s._ 6_d._ „ | 4 17 6 | 13 13 0 - | | - BOYS. | | - _Without board and lodging._ | |Board and - Boys per | | lodging - 2 employed by 1 master, at 10_s._ week | 39 0 0 |estimated - | | at 6_s._ - _With board and lodging._ | | a week. - 1 „ 1 „ 3_s._ 0_d._ „ | 5 17 0 | 11 14 0 - 1 „ 1 „ 2_s._ 6_d._ „ | 4 17 6 | 11 14 0 - 9 „ 8 „ 2_s._ 0_d._ „ | 35 2 0 | 105 6 0 - 14 „ 14 „ 1_s._ 6_d._ „ | 40 19 0 | 163 16 0 - 30 „ 28 „ 1_s._ 0_d._ „ | 58 10 0 | 351 0 0 - 1 „ 1 „ 0_s._ 9_d._ „ | 1 9 3 | 11 14 0 - 4 „ 2 „ 0_s._ 0_d._ „ | | 46 16 0 - -- -- +-------------+----------- - 62 54 | 146 14 9 | 702 0 0 - +-------------+----------- - - Total earnings 6309 14 3 - Total for board, lodging, &c. 4155 6 8 - ------------ - Grand Total 10,465 0 11 - -Thus we find that the _constant_ or _average casual_ wages of the -several classes of operative chimney-sweepers may be taken as follows:-- - - Journeymen without board and lodging, _s._ _d._ - and with perquisites averaging 2_s._ - a week 12 6 - Journeymen with board and lodging - and 2_s._ a week perquisites 9 10-1/2 - Foreman, without board and lodging, - at 2_s._ 6_d._ a week perquisites 15 7 - Boys, with board and lodging 5 3 - -The _general_ wages of the trade, including foreman, journeymen, and -boys, and calculating the perquisites to average 2_s._ weekly, will be -10_s._ 6_d._ a week, the same as the cotton factory operatives. - -But if 10,500_l._ be the income of the operatives, what do the -employers receive who have to pay this sum? - -The charge for sweeping one of the lofty chimneys in the public and -official edifices, and in the great houses in the aristocratic streets -and squares, is 2_s._ 6_d._ and 3_s._ 6_d._ - -The chimneys of moderate-sized houses are swept at 1_s._ to 1_s._ 6_d._ -each, and those of the poorer classes are charged generally 6_d._; -some, however, are swept at 3_d._ and 4_d._; and when soot realized -a higher price (some of the present master sweepers _have_ sold it -at 1_s._ a bushel), the chimneys of poor persons were swept by the -poorer class of sweeps merely for the perquisite of the soot. This is -sometimes done even now, but to a very small extent, by a sweeper, “on -his own hook,” and in want of a job, but generally with an injunction -to the person whose chimney has been cleansed on such easy terms, not -to mention it, as it “couldn’t be made a practice on.” - -Estimating the number of houses belonging to the wealthy classes of -society to be 54,000, and these to be swept eight times a year, and -the charge for sweeping to be 2_s._ 6_d._ each time; and the number of -houses belonging to the middle classes to be 90,000, and each to be -swept four times a year, at 1_s._ 6_d._ each time; and the dwellings of -the poor and labouring classes to be swept once a year at 6_d._ each -time, and the number of such dwellings to be 165,000, we find that the -total sum paid to the master chimney-sweepers of London is, in round -numbers, 85,000_l._ - -The sum obtained for 800,000 bushels of soot collected by the -master-sweepers from the houses of London, at 5_d._ per bushel, is -16,500_l._ - -Thus the total annual income of the master-sweepers of London is -100,000_l._ - -Out of this 100,000_l._ per annum, the expenses of the masters would -appear to be as follows:-- - - -_Yearly Expenditure of the Master-Sweepers._ - - Sum paid in wages to 473 journeymen £10,500 - Rent, &c., of 350 houses or lodgings, - at 12_l._ yearly each 4,200 - Wear and tear of 1000 machines, - 1_l._ each yearly 1,000 - Ditto 2000 sacks, at 1_s._ each yearly 100 - Keep of 25 horses, 7_s._ weekly each 455 - Wear and tear of 25 carts and harness, - 1_l._ each 25 - Interest on capital at 10 per cent. 450 - ------ - Total yearly expenditure of - master-sweepers employing journeymen £16,736 - -The rent here given may seem low at 12_l._ a year, but many of -the chimney-sweepers live in parlours, with cellars below, in old -out-of-the-way places, at a low rental, in Stepney, Shadwell, Wapping, -Bethnal-green, Hoxton, Lock’s-fields, Walworth, Newington, Islington, -Somers-town, Paddington, &c. The better sort of master-sweepers at the -West-end often live in a mews. - -The gains, then, of the master sweepers are as under:-- - - Annual income for cleansing chimneys - and soot £100,000 - Expenditure for wages, rent, wear, - and tear, keep of horses, &c., say 20,000 - ------- - Annual profit of master chimney-sweepers - of London £80,000 - -This amount of profit, divided among 350 masters, gives about 230_l._ -per annum to each individual; it is only by a few, however, that such -a sum is realized, as in the 100,000_l._ paid by the London public -to the sweepers’ trade, is included the sum received by the men who -work single-handed, “on their own hook,” as they say, employing -no journeymen. Of these men’s earnings, the accounts I heard from -themselves and the other master sweepers were all accordant, that they -barely made journeymen’s wages. They have the very worst-paid portion -of the trade, receiving neither for their sweeping nor their soot the -prices obtained by the better masters; indeed they very frequently sell -their soot to their more prosperous brethren. Their general statement -is, that they make “eighteen pence a day, and all told.” Their receipts -then, and they have no perquisites as have the journeymen, are, in a -slack time, about 1_s._ a day (and some days they do not get a job); -but in the winter they are busier, as it is then that sweepers are -employed by the poor; and at that period the “master-men” may make from -15_s._ to 20_s._ a week each; so that, I am assured, the average of -their weekly takings may be estimated at 12_s._ 6_d._ - -Now, deducting the expenditure from the receipts of 100,000_l._ (for -sweeping and soot), the balance, as we have seen, is 80,000_l._, an -amount of profit which, if equally divided among the three classes of -the trade, will give the following sums:-- - - Yearly, each. Yearly, total. - - Profits of 150 single-handed £ _s._ £ - master-men 32 10 4,940 - Do. 92 small masters 200 0 18,400 - Do. 106 large masters 500 0 53,000 - ------ - £76,340 - -Nor is this estimate of the masters’ profits, I am assured, -extravagant. One of the smaller sweepers, but a prosperous man in his -way, told me that he knew a master sweeper who was “as rich as Crœser, -had bought houses, and could not write his own name.” - -We have now but to estimate the amount of capital invested in the -chimney-sweepers’ trade, and then to proceed to the characteristics of -the men. - - 1200 machines, 2_l._ 10_s._ each (present £ - average value) 3000 - 3000 sacks, 2_s._ 6_d._ each 385 - 25 horses, 20_l._ each 500 - 25 sets of harness, 2_l._ each 50 - 25 carts, 12_l._ each 300 - ----- - £4235 - -It may be thought that the sweepers will require the services of more -than 25 horses, but I am assured that such is not the case as regards -the soot business, for the soot is carted away from the sweepers’ -premises by the farmer or other purchaser. - -It would appear, then, that the facts of the chimney-sweepers’ trade -are briefly as under:-- - -The gross quantity of soot collected yearly throughout London is -800,000 bushels. The value of this, sold as manure, at 5_d._ per -bushel, is 16,500_l._ - -There are 800 to 900 people employed in the trade, 200 of whom are -masters employing journeymen, 150 single-handed master-men, and 470 -journeymen and under journeymen. - -The annual income of the entire number of journeymen is 10,500_l._ -without perquisites, or 13,000_l._ with, which gives an average weekly -wage to the operatives of 10_s._ 6_d._ - -The annual income of the masters and leeks is, for sweeping and soot, -100,000_l._ - -The annual expenditure of the masters for rent, keep of horses, wear -and tear, and wages, is 20,000_l._ - -The gross annual profit of the 350 masters is 80,000_l._, which is -at the rate of about 35_l._ per annum to each of the single-handed -men, 200_l._ to each of the smaller masters employing journeymen, and -500_l._ to each of the larger masters. - -The capital of the trade is about 5000_l._ - -_The price charged_ by the “high master sweepers” for cleaning the -flues of a house rented at 150_l._ a year and upwards, is from 1_s._ to -3_s._ 6_d._ (the higher price being paid for sweeping those chimneys -which have a hot plate affixed). A small master, on the other hand, -will charge from 1_s._ to 3_s._ for the same kind of work, while -a single-handed man seldom gets above “a 2_s._ job,” and that not -very often. The charge for sweeping the flues of a house rented at -from 50_l._ to 150_l._ a year, is from 9_d._ to 2_s._ 6_d._ by a -large master, and from 8_d._ to 2_s._ by a small master, while a -single-handed man will take the job at from 6_d._ to 1_s._ 6_d._ The -price charged per flue for a house rented at from 20_l._ a year up to -50_l._ a year, will average 6_d._ a flue, charged by large masters, -4_d._ by small masters, and from 2_d._ to 3_d._ by the single-handed -sweepers in some cases; indeed, the poorest class will sweep a flue for -the soot only. But the prices charged for sweeping chimneys differ in -the different parts of the metropolis. I subjoin a list of the maximum -and minimum charge for the several districts. - - _d._ _s._ _d._ - Kensington and Hammersmith 4 to 3 0 - Westminster 3 „ 2 0 - Chelsea 4 „ 2 6 - St. George’s, Hanover-sq. 6 „ 3 6 - St. Martin’s and St. Ann’s 4 „ 2 6 - St. James’s, Westminster 3 „ 2 6 - Marylebone 4 „ 2 6 - Paddington 3 „ 2 0 - Hampstead 3 „ 1 6 - St. Pancras 4 „ 3 0 - Islington 3 „ 1 6 - Hackney and Homerton 3 „ 2 0 - St. Giles’s and St. George’s, Bloomsbury 3 „ 3 0 - Strand 4 „ 2 6 - Holborn 4 „ 2 6 - Clerkenwell 3 „ 1 6 - St. Luke’s 3 „ 1 0 - East London 3 „ 1 6 - West London 4 „ 2 6 - London City 6 „ 2 6 - Shoreditch 3 „ 1 0 - Bethnal Green 3 „ 1 0 - Whitechapel 4 „ 1 6 - St. George’s in the East and Limehouse 3 „ 1 0 - Stepney 3 „ 1 6 - Poplar 4 „ 2 0 - St. George’s, St. Olave’s, and St. - Saviour’s, Southwark 3 „ 1 6 - Bermondsey 3 „ 0 9 - Walworth and Newington 4 „ 1 6 - Wandsworth 4 „ 1 6 - Lambeth 3 „ 1 0 - Camberwell 4 „ 2 0 - Clapham, Brixton, and Tooting 4 „ 2 6 - Rotherhithe 3 „ 1 6 - Greenwich 3 „ 1 6 - Woolwich 3 „ 2 6 - Lewisham 6 „ 3 0 - - N.B.--The single-handed and the knullers generally - charge a penny less than the prices above given. - -_There are three different kinds of soot_:--the best is produced purely -from coal; the next in value is that which proceeds from the combustion -of vegetable refuse along with the coal, as in cases where potato -peelings, cabbage leaves, and the like, are burnt in the fires of the -poorer classes; while the soot produced from wood fires is, I am told, -scarcely worth carriage. Wood-soot, however, is generally mixed with -that from coal, and sold as the superior kind. - -Not only is there a difference in value in the various kinds of soot, -but there is also a vast difference in the weight. A bushel of pure -coal soot will not weigh above four pounds; that produced from the -combustion of coal and vegetable refuse will weigh nearly thrice as -much; while that from wood fires is, I am assured, nearly ten times -heavier than from coal. - -I have not heard that the introduction of free trade has had any -influence on the value of soot, or in reducing the wages of the -operatives. The same wages are paid to the operatives whether soot -sells at a high or low price. - - -OF THE GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS OF THE WORKING CHIMNEY-SWEEPERS. - -There are many reasons why the chimney-sweepers have ever been a -distinct and peculiar class. They have long been looked down upon -as the lowest order of workers, and treated with contumely by those -who were but little better than themselves. The peculiar nature of -their work giving them not only a filthy appearance, but an offensive -smell, of itself, in a manner, prohibited them from associating with -other working men; and the natural effect of such proscription -has been to compel them to herd together apart from others, and to -acquire habits and peculiarities of their own widely differing from the -characteristics of the rest of the labouring classes. - - -A TABLE SHOWING THE NUMBER OF MASTER CHIMNEY SWEEPERS RESIDING IN -THE SEVERAL DISTRICTS OF THE METROPOLIS, THE NUMBER OF FOREMEN, OF -JOURNEYMEN, AND UNDER JOURNEYMEN EMPLOYED IN EACH DISTRICT DURING THE -YEAR, AS WELL AS THE WEEKLY WAGES OF EACH CLASS. - - ----------------+---------+---------+----------+----------+-------------+ - | | | No. of | No. of | | - | No. of | |Journeymen|Journeymen| | - | Master | | employed | employed |No. of Under | - DISTRICTS. |Sweepers | No. of | in the | in the | Journeymen, | - | in each | Foremen | brisk | slack |men, or boys,| - |District.|employed.| season. | season. | employed. | - ----------------+---------+---------+----------+----------+-------------+ - WEST DISTRICTS. | | | | | | - _Kensington and | | | | | | - Hammersmith_ | 11 | 2 | 25 | 16 | 2 | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - _Westminster_ | 13 | 1 | 26 | 18 | 1 | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - _Chelsea_ | 22 | -- | 13 | 11 | 2 | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - _St. George’s, | | | | | | - Hanover-sq._ | 10 | 5 | 27 | 25 | -- | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - _St. Martin’s | | | | | | - and St. | | | | | | - Ann’s_ | 9 | -- | 16 | 15 | 1 | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - _St. James’s, | | | | | | - Westminster_ | 7 | 1 | 9 | 6 | -- | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - NORTH DISTRICTS.| | | | | | - _Marylebone_ | 18 | -- | 21 | 16 | -- | - _Paddington_ | 10 | 1 | 17 | 10 | 3 | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - _Hampstead_ | 2 | -- | 2 | 2 | 2 | - | | | | | | - _Islington_ | 9 | -- | 13 | 12 | 3 | - | | | | | | - _St. Pancras_ | 18 | -- | 33 | 21 | 6 | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - _Hackney and | | | | | | - Homerton_ | 13 | -- | 3 | 3 | 4 | - - +---------+-----------+----------------------+--------------- - | | | | - | No. of | | | - | Bushels | Weekly | Weekly | Weekly - | of Soot | Wages | Wages | Wages of - |collected| of each | of each | each Under - | Weekly. | Foreman. | Journeyman. | Journeyman. - +---------+-----------+----------------------+--------------- - | | | | - | | | | - | 695 | 18_s._ | 7 at 16_s._ | 10_s._ - | | | 6 „ 15_s._ | - | | |10 „ 14_s._ | - | | | 1 „ 12_s._ | - | 735 | 14_s._ | 5 at 18_s._ | 3_s._ _b_ - | | |10 „ 12_s._ | - | | | 3 „ 4_s._} | - | | | 4 „ 3_s._}_b_ | - | | | 4 „ 2_s._} | - | 670 | -- | 1 „ 16_s._ |1 at 2_s._ _b_ - | | | 3 „ 12_s._ |1 _e_ - | | | 4 „ 10_s._ | - | | | 3 „ 3_s._ } | - | | | 1 „ 2_s._ 6_d._}_b_| - | | | 1 „ 2_s._ } | - | | | | - | 890 |4 at 18_s._| 5 at 18_s._ | -- - | |1 „ 16_s._| 3 „ 16_s._ | - | | | 2 „ 15_s._ | - | | | 9 „ 14_s._ | - | | | 7 „ 12_s._ | - | | | 1 „ 6_s._ _b_ | - | | | | - | | | | - | 415 | -- | 7 at 6_s._} | 2_s._ _b_ - | | | 6 „ 4_s._}_b_ | - | | | 2 „ 3_s._} | - | | | | - | 355 | 14_s._ | 5 at 12_s._ | -- - | | | 1 „ 10_s._ | - | | | 1 at 3_s._ 6_d._ _b_| - | | | | - | 775 | -- | 18_s._ | -- - | 495 | 18_s._ | 1 at 14_s._ |2 at 2_s._ } - | | | 1 „ 10_s._ |1 „ 1_s._ 6_d._}_b_ - | | | 2 „ 4_s._ } | - | | | 8 „ 3_s._ 6_d._}_b_| - | | | 1 „ 2_s._ 6_d._} | - | | | 2 „ 1_s._} | - | 60 | -- | 1 at 3_s._}_b_ |1 at 1_s._ 6_d._}_b_ - | | | 1 „ 2_s._} |1 „ 1_s._ } - | 425 | -- | 3 at 4_s._ }_b_ | 1_s._ 6_d._ _b_ - | | | 2 „ 3_s._ } | - | 920 | -- | 2 at 14_s._ |3 at 2_s._ } - | | | 6 „ 12_s._ |2 „ 1_s._ 6_d._}_b_ - | | | 4 „ 10_s._ |1 „ 1_s._ } - | | | 6 „ 4_s._ } | - | | | 3 „ 3_s._ 6_d._} | - | | |11 „ 3_s._ }_b_| - | | | 3 „ 2_s._ 6_d._} | - | | | 1 „ 2_s._ } | - | | | | - | 290 | -- | 2_s._ _b_ |1_s._ 6_d._ _b_ - - - ----------------+---------+---------+----------+----------+-------------+ - | | | No. of | No. of | | - | No. of | |Journeymen|Journeymen| | - | Master | | employed | employed |No. of Under | - Districts. |Sweepers | No. of | in the | in the | Journeymen, | - | in each | Foremen | brisk | slack |men, or boys,| - |District.|employed.| season. | season. | employed. | - ----------------+---------+---------+----------+----------+-------------+ - CENTRAL | | | | | | - DISTRICTS. | | | | | | - _St. Giles’s and| 12 | -- | 9 | 7 | 5 | - St. George’s, | | | | | | - Bloomsbury._ | | | | | | - _Strand_ | 5 | -- | 11 | 8 | 2 | - | | | | | | - _Holborn_ | 6 | 2 | 11 | 10 | -- | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - | | | | | | - _Clerkenwell_ | 6 | -- | 9 | 9 | 1 | - | | | | | | - _St. Luke’s_ | 6 | -- | 4 | 3 | 2 | - _East London_ | 8 | -- | 10 | 8 | -- | - _West London_ | 5 | -- | 9 | 6 | -- | - | | | | | | - _London City_ | 6 | -- | 12 | 10 | 2 | - | | | | | | - EAST DISTRICTS. | | | | | | - _Shoreditch_ | 13 | -- | 6 | 5 | 1 | - _Bethnal Green_ | 6 | -- | 2 | 2 | -- | - | | | | | | - _Whitechapel_ | 11 | -- | 1 | 1 | 3 | - _St. George’s-in| 14 | -- | 14 | 10 | 3 | - -the-East and | | | | | | - Limehouse._ | | | | | | - _Stepney_ | 9 | -- | 3 | 2 | -- | - _Poplar_ | 4 | -- | 1 | -- | 1 | - | | | | | | - SOUTH DISTRICTS.| | | | | | - _Southwark_ | 17 | -- | -- | -- | -- | - _Bermondsey_ | 8 | -- | 4 | 4 | 1 | - _Walworth and | 9 | -- | 6 | 4 | 4 | - Newington_ | | | | | | - _Wandsworth_ | 6 | -- | 6 | 5 | 1 | - | | | | | | - _Lambeth_ | 16 | -- | 9 | 9 | 5 | - | | | | | | - _Camberwell_ | 8 | -- | 8 | 7 | 1 | - _Clapton, } | 11 | -- | 13 | 7 | 1 | - Brixton, } | | | | | | - and Tooting_} | | | | | | - _Rotherhithe_ | 7 | -- | 2 | 2 | -- | - _Greenwich_ | 6 | -- | 4 | 4 | 1 | - | | | | | | - _Woolwich_ | 7 | -- | 17 | 12 | 3 | - | | | | | | - _Lewisham_ | 2 | -- | 5 | 5 | 1 | - _Ramoneur | | | | | | - Company_ | -- | -- | 18 | 18 | 18 | - ----------------+---------+---------+----------+----------+-------------+ - TOTAL | 350 | 12 | 399 | 62 | 62 | - ----------------+---------+---------+----------+----------+-------------+ - - +---------+-----------+----------------------+--------------- - | | | | - | No. of | | | - | Bushels | Weekly | Weekly | Weekly - | of Soot | Wages | Wages | Wages of - |collected| of each | of each | each Under - | Weekly. | Foreman. | Journeyman. | Journeyman. - +---------+-----------+----------------------+--------------- - | | | | - | | | | - | 435 | -- |8 at 12_s._ | 1_s._ _b_ - | | |1 „ 3_s._ _b_ | - | | | | - | 350 | -- | 4_s._ _b_ |1 at 2_s._} - | | | |1 „ 1_s._} _b_ - | 435 | 20_s._ |2 at 18_s._ | -- - | | |3 „ 8_s._} | - | | |4 „ 4_s._} _b_ | - | | |2 „ 3_s._} | - | 310 | -- |8 at 3_s._ } _b_| 1_s._ _b_ - | | |1 „ 2_s._ 6_d._} | - | 175 | -- | 2_s._ _b_ | 1_s._ _b_ - | 455 | -- | 3_s._ _b_ | -- - | 205 | -- |3 at 4_s._} | -- - | | |6 „ 3_s._}_b_ | - | 415 | -- |6 at 6_s._ } | 2_s._ _b_ - | | |6 „ 4_s._ }_b_ | - | | | | - | 380 | -- | 2_s._ _b_ | 1_s._ _b_ - | 150 | -- |1 at 5_s._ | -- - | | |1 „ 2_s._ _b_ | - | 330 | -- | 2_s._ _b_ | 3_s._ _e_ - | 650 | -- |3 at 3_s._ } |1 at 1_s._ 6_d._}_b_ - | | |4 „ 2_s._ 6_d._}_b_ |2 „ 1_s._ } - | | |7 „ 2_s._ } | - | 275 | -- | 3_s._ _b_ | -- - | 110 | -- | 2_s._ _b_ | 1_s._ 6_d._ _b_ - | | | | - | | | | - | 385 | -- | -- | -- - | 220 | -- | 2_s._ _b_ | 1_s._ _b_ - | 330 | -- | 2_s._ _b_ | 1_s._ _b_ - | | | | - | 240 | -- | 3 at 3_s._ } | 1_s._ _b_ - | | | 3 „ 2_s._ 6_d._}_b_ | - | 560 | -- | 3 at 3_s._ { |1 at 1_s._ 6_d._} - | | | 6 „ 2_s._ 6_d._{_b_ |4 „ 1_s._ } _b_ - | 315 | -- | 2_s._ 6_d._{_b_ | 1_s._ _b_ - | 410 | -- | 2_s._ 6_d._ _b_ | 1_s._ _b_ - | | | | - | | | | - | 170 | -- | 2_s._ _b_ | -- - | 195 | -- | 1_s._ 6_d._ _b_ | 1_s._ _b_ - | | | | - | 515 | -- |13 at 2_s._ 6_d._ |2 at 1_s._} - | | | 4 „ 1_s._ 6_d._ |1 „ 9_d._} _b_ - | 160 | -- | 2_s._ _b_ | 1_s._ _b_ - | | | | - | 450 | -- | 18_s._ | -- - +---------+-----------+----------------------+------------------ - | 15350 | | | - +---------+-----------+----------------------+------------------ - - NOTE.--_b_ means board and lodging as well as money, or part money and - part kind; _e_ stands for everything found or paid all in kind. - - These returns have been collected by personal visits to each - district:--the name of each master throughout London, together with - the number of Foremen, Journeymen, and Under Journeymen employed, and - the Wages received by each, as well as the quantity of soot collected, - have been likewise obtained; but the names of the masters are here - omitted for want of space, and the results alone are given. - -Sweepers, however, have not from this cause generally been an -hereditary race--that is, they have not become sweepers from father -to son for many generations. Their numbers were, in the days of the -climbing boys, in most instances increased by parish apprentices, the -parishes usually adopting that mode as the cheapest and easiest of -freeing themselves from a part of the burden of juvenile pauperism. The -climbing boys, but more especially the unfortunate parish apprentices, -were almost always cruelly used, starved, beaten, and over-worked by -their masters, and treated as outcasts by all with whom they came in -contact: there can be no wonder, then, that, driven in this manner from -all other society, they gladly availed themselves of the companionship -of their fellow-sufferers; quickly imbibed all their habits and -peculiarities; and, perhaps, ended by becoming themselves the most -tyrannical masters to those who might happen to be placed under their -charge. - -Notwithstanding the disrepute in which sweepers have ever been held, -there are many classes of workers beneath them in intelligence. All the -tribe of finders and collectors (with the exception of the dredgermen, -who are an observant race, and the sewer-hunters, who, from the danger -of their employment, are compelled to exercise their intellects) are -far inferior to them in this respect; and they are clever fellows -compared to many of the dustmen and scavagers. The great mass of the -agricultural labourers are known to be almost as ignorant as the beasts -they drive; but the sweepers, from whatever cause it may arise, are -known, in many instances, to be shrewd, intelligent, and active. - -But there is much room for improvement among the operative -chimney-sweepers. Speaking of the men generally, I am assured that -there is scarcely one out of ten who can either read or write. One man -in Chelsea informed me that some ladies, in connection with the Rev. -Mr. Cadman’s church, made an attempt to instruct the sweepers of the -neighbourhood in reading and writing; but the master sweepers grew -jealous, and became afraid lest their men should get too knowing for -them. When the time came, therefore, for the men to prepare for the -school, the masters always managed to find out some job which prevented -them from attending at the appointed time, and the consequence was that -the benevolent designs of the ladies were frustrated. - -The sweepers, as a class, in almost all their habits, bear a -strong resemblance to the costermongers. The habit of going about -in search of their employment has, of itself, implanted in many -of them the wandering propensity peculiar to street people. Many -of the better-class costermongers have risen into coal-shed men -and greengrocers, and become settled in life; in like manner the -better-class sweepers have risen to be masters, and, becoming -settled in a locality, have gradually obtained the trade of the -neighbourhood; then, as their circumstances improved, they have been -able to get horses and carts, and become nightmen; and there are many -of them at this moment men of wealth, comparatively speaking. The -great body of them, however, retain in all their force their original -characteristics; the masters themselves, although shrewd and sensible -men, often betray their want of education, and are in no way particular -as to their expressions, their language being made up, in a great -measure, of the terms peculiar to the costermongers, especially the -denominations of the various sorts of money. I met with some sweepers, -however, whose language was that in ordinary use, and their manners -not vulgar. I might specify one, who, although a workhouse orphan -and apprentice, a harshly-treated climbing-boy, is now prospering as -a sweeper and nightman, is a regular attendant at all meetings to -promote the good of the poor, and a zealous ragged-school teacher, and -teetotaller. - -When such men are met with, perhaps the class cannot be looked upon -as utterly cast away, although the need of reformation in the habits -of the working sweepers is extreme, and especially in respect of -drinking, gambling, and dirt. The journeymen (who have often a good -deal of leisure) and the single-handed men are--in the great majority -of cases at least--addicted to drinking, beer being their favourite -beverage, either because it is the cheapest or that they fancy it the -most suitable for washing away the sooty particles which find their way -to their throats. These men gamble also, but with this proviso--they -seldom play for money; but when they meet in their usual houses of -resort--two famous ones are in Back C---- lane and S---- street, -Whitechapel--they spend their time and what money they may have in -tossing for beer, till they are either drunk or penniless. Such men -present the appearance of having just come out of a chimney. There -seems never to have been any attempt made by them to wash the soot -off their faces. I am informed that there is scarcely one of them who -has a second shirt or any change of clothes, and that they wear their -garments night and day till they literally rot, and drop in fragments -from their backs. Those who are not employed as journeymen by the -masters are frequently whole days without food, especially in summer, -when the work is slack; and it usually happens that those who are -what is called “knocking about on their own account” seldom or never -have a farthing in their pockets in the morning, and may, perhaps, -have to travel till evening before they get a threepenny or sixpenny -chimney to sweep. When night comes, and they meet their companions, the -tossing and drinking again commences; they again get drunk; roll home -to wherever it may be, to go through the same routine on the morrow; -and this is the usual tenour of their lives, whether earning 5_s._ or -20_s._ a week. - -The chimney-sweepers generally are fond of drink; indeed their calling, -like that of dustmen, is one of those which naturally lead to it. The -men declare they are ordered to drink gin and smoke as much as they -can, in order to rid the stomach of the soot they may have swallowed -during their work. - -_Washing_ among chimney-sweepers seems to be much more frequent than it -was. In the evidence before Parliament it was stated that some of the -climbing-boys were washed once in six months, some once a week, some -once in two or three months. I do not find it anywhere stated that any -of these children were never washed at all; but from the tenour of the -evidence it may be reasonably concluded that such was the case. - -A master sweeper, who was in the habit of bathing at the Marylebone -baths once and sometimes twice a week, assured me that, although many -now eat and drink and sleep sooty, washing is more common among his -class than when he himself was a climbing-boy. He used then to be -stripped, and compelled to step into a tub, and into water sometimes -too hot and sometimes too cold, while his mistress, to use his own -word, _scoured_ him. Judging from what he had seen and heard, my -informant was satisfied that, from 30 to 40 years ago, climbing-boys, -with a very few exceptions, were but seldom washed; and then it was -looked upon by them as a most disagreeable operation, often, indeed, as -a species of punishment. Some of the climbing-boys used to be taken by -their masters to bathe in the Serpentine many years ago; but one boy -was unfortunately drowned, so that the children could hardly be coerced -to go into the water afterwards. - -The washing among the chimney-sweepers of the present day, when there -are scarcely any climbing-boys, is so much an individual matter that -it is not possible to speak with any great degree of certainty on the -subject, but that it increases may be concluded from the fact that the -number of sweeps who resort to the public baths increases. - -The first public baths and washhouses opened in London were in the -“north-west district,” and situated in George-street, Euston-square, -near the Hampstead-road. This establishment was founded by voluntary -contribution in 1846, and is now self-supporting. - -There are three more public baths: one in Goulston-street, Whitechapel -(on the same principle as that first established); another in St. -Martin’s, near the National Gallery, which are parochial; and the -last in Marylebone, near the Yorkshire Stingo tavern, New-road, also -parochial. The charge for a cold bath, each being secluded from the -others, is 1_d._, with the use of a towel; a warm bath is 2_d._ in the -third class. The following is the return of the number of bathers at -the north-west district baths, the establishment most frequented:-- - - ------------------------------+-------+-------+-------+------- - | 1847. | 1848. | 1849. | 1850. - +-------+-------+-------+------- - Bathers |110,940|111,788| 96,726| 86,597 - Washers, Dryers, Ironers, &c. | 39,418| 61,690| 65,934| 73,023 - Individuals Washed for |137,672|246,760|263,736|292,092 - -I endeavoured to ascertain the proportion of sweepers, with other -working men, who availed themselves of these baths; but there are -unfortunately no data for instituting a comparison as to the relative -cleanliness of the several trades. When the baths were first opened -an endeavour was made to obtain such a return; but it was found to be -distasteful to the bathers, and so was discontinued. We find, then, -that in four years there have been 406,051 bathers. The following gives -the proportion between the sexes, a portion of 1846 being included:-- - - Bathers--Males 417,424 - „ Females 47,114 - ------- - Total bathers 464,538 - -The falling off in the number of bathers at this establishment is, I am -told, attributable to the opening of new baths, the people, of course, -resorting to the nearest. - -I have given the return of washers, &c., as I endeavoured to ascertain -the proportion of washing by the chimney-sweeper’s wives; but there is -no specification of the trades of the persons using this branch of the -establishment any more than there is of those frequenting the baths, -and for the same reason as prevented its being done among the bathers. -One of the attendants at these washhouses told me that he had no doubt -the sweepers’ wives did wash there, for he had more than once seen a -sweeper waiting to carry home the clothes his wife had cleansed. As -no questions concerning their situation in life are asked of the poor -women who resort to these very excellent institutions (for such they -appear to be on a cursory glance) of course no data can be supplied. -This is to be somewhat regretted; but a regard to the feelings, and in -some respects to the small prejudices, of the industrious poor is to -be commended rather than otherwise, and the managers of these baths -certainly seem to have manifested such a regard. - -I am informed, however, by the secretary of the north-west district -institution, that in some weeks of the summer 80 chimney-sweepers -bathed there; always having, he believed, warm baths, which are more -effective in removing soot or dirt from the skin than cold. Summer, it -must be remembered, is the sweep’s “brisk” season. In a winter week as -few as 25 or 20 have bathed, but the weekly average of sweeper-bathers, -the year through, is about 50; and the number of sweeper-bathers, he -thought, had increased since the opening of the baths about 10 per -cent. yearly. As in 1850 the average number of bathers of all classes -did not exceed 1646 per week, the proportion of sweepers, 50, is high. -The number of female bathers is about one-ninth, so that the males -would be about 1480; and the 50 sweepers a week constitute about a -thirtieth part of the whole of the third-class bathers. The number of -sweep-bathers was known because a sweep is known by his appearance. - -I was told by the secretary that the sweepers, the majority bathing on -Saturday nights, usually carried a bundle to the bath; this contained -their “clean things.” After bathing they assumed their “Sunday -clothes;” and from the change in their appearance between ingress and -egress, they were hardly recognisable as the same individuals. - -In the other baths, where also there is no specification of the -bathers, I am told, that of sweepers bathing the number (on -computation) is 30 at Marylebone, 25 at Goulston-street, and 15 (at the -least) at St. Martin’s, as a weekly average. In all, 120 sweepers bathe -weekly, or about a seventh of the entire working body. The increase at -the three baths last mentioned, in sweepers bathing, is from 5 to 10 -per cent. - -Among the lower-class sweepers there are but few who wash themselves -even once throughout the year. They eat, drink, and sleep in the same -state of filth and dirt as when engaged in their daily avocation. -Others, however, among the better class are more cleanly in their -habits, and wash themselves every night. - - * * * * * - -Between _the appearance of the sweepers_ in the streets at the present -time and before the abolition of the system of climbing there is a -marked difference. Charles Lamb said (in 1823):-- - -“I like to meet a sweep--understand me, not a grown sweeper--old -chimney-sweepers are by no means attractive--but one of those tender -novices blooming through their first nigritude, the maternal washings -not quite effaced from the cheek--such as come forth with the dawn, or -somewhat earlier, with their little professional notes sounding like -the _peep peep_ of a young sparrow; or liker to the matin lark should -I pronounce them, in their aerial ascents not seldom anticipating the -sunrise?” - -Throughout his essay, Elia throws the halo of poetry over the -child-sweepers, calling them “dim specks,” “poor blots,” “innocent -blacknesses,” “young Africans of our own growth;” the natural -kindliness of the writer shines out through all. He counsels his reader -to give the young innocent 2_d._, or, if the weather were starving, -“let the demand on thy humanity rise to a tester” (6_d._). - -The appearance of the little children-sweepers, as they trotted along -at the master’s or the journeyman’s heels, or waited at “rich men’s -doors” on a cold morning, was pitiable in the extreme. If it snowed, -there was a strange contrast between the black sootiness of the -sweeper’s dress and the white flakes of snow which adhered to it. The -boy-sweeper trotted listlessly along; a sack to contain the soot thrown -over his shoulder, or disposed round his neck, like a cape or shawl. -One master sweeper tells me that in his apprenticeship days he had -to wait at the great mansions in and about Grosvenor-square, on some -bitter wintry mornings, until he felt as if his feet, although he had -both stockings and shoes--and many young climbers were barefoot--felt -as if frozen to the pavement. When the door was opened, he told me, the -matter was not really mended. The rooms were often large and cold, and -being lighted only with a candle or two, no doubt looked very dreary, -while there was not a fire in the whole house, and no one up but a -yawning servant or two, often very cross at having been disturbed. -The servants, however, in noblemen’s houses, he also told me, were -frequently kind to him, giving him bread and butter, and sometimes -bread and jam; and as his master generally had a glass of raw spirit -handed to him, the boy usually had a sip when his employer had “knocked -off his glass.” His employer, indeed, sometimes said, “O, _he’s_ better -without it; it’ll only larn him to drink, like it did me;” but the -servant usually answered, “O, here, just a thimblefull for him.” - -The usual dress of the climbing-boy--as I have learned from those who -had worn it themselves, and, when masters, had provided it for their -boys--was made of a sort of strong flannel, which many years ago was -called chimney-sweepers’ cloth; but my informant was not certain -whether this was a common name for it or not, he only remembered having -heard it called so. He remembered, also, accompanying his master to -do something to the flues in a church, then (1817) hung with black -cloth, as a part of the national mourning for the Princess Charlotte of -Wales, and he thought it seemed very like the chimney-sweepers’ cloth, -which was dark coloured when new. The child-sweep wore a pair of cloth -trowsers, and over that a sort of tunic, or tight fitting shirt with -sleeves; sometimes a little waistcoat and jacket. This, it must be -borne in mind, was only the practice among the best masters (who always -had to find their apprentices in clothes); and was the practice among -them more and more in the later period of the climbing process, for -householders began to inquire as to what sort of trim the boys employed -on their premises appeared in. The poorer or the less well-disposed -masters clad the urchins who climbed for them in any old rags which -their wives could piece together, or in any low-priced garment “picked -up” in such places as Rosemary-lane. The fit was no object at all. -These ill-clad lads were, moreover, at one time the great majority. -The clothes were usually made “at home” by the women, and in the same -style, as regarded the seams, &c., as the sacks for soot; but sometimes -the work was beyond the art of the sweeper’s wife, and then the aid -of some poor neighbour better skilled in the use of her scissors and -needle, or of some poor tailor, was called in, on the well-known terms -of “a shilling (or 1_s._ 6_d._) a day, and the grub.” - -The cost of a climbing-boy’s dress, I was informed, varied, when new, -according to the material of which it was made, from 3_s._ 6_d._ to -6_s._ 6_d._ independently of the cost of making, which, in the hands of -a tailor who “whipped the cat” (or went out to work at his customer’s -houses), would occupy a day, at easy labour, at a cost of 1_s._ 6_d._ -(or less) in money, and the “whip-cat’s” meals, perhaps another 1_s._ -6_d._, beer included. As to the cost of a sweeper’s second-hand -clothing it is useless to inquire; but I was informed by a now -thriving master, that when he was about twelve years old his mistress -bought him a “werry tidy jacket, as seemed made for a gen’leman’s -son,” in Petticoat-lane, one Sunday morning, for 1_s._ 6_d._; while -other things, he said, were “in proportionate.” Shoes and stockings -are not included in the cost of the little sweeper’s apparel; and they -were, perhaps, always bought second-hand. A few of the best masters -(or of those wishing to stand best in their customers’ regards), who -sent their boys to church or to Sunday schools, had then a non-working -attire for them; either a sweeper’s dress of jacket and trowsers, -unsoiled by soot, or the ordinary dress of a poor lad. - -The street appearance of the present race of sweepers, all adults, -may every here and there bear out Charles Lamb’s dictum, that grown -sweepers are by no means attractive. Some of them are broad-shouldered -and strongly-built men, who, as they traverse the streets, sometimes -look as grim as they are dingy. The chimney-scavager carries the -implement of his calling propped on his shoulder, in the way shown in -the daguerreotype which I have given. His dress is usually a jacket, -waistcoat, and trowsers of dark-coloured corduroy; or instead of a -jacket a waistcoat with sleeves. Over this when at work the sweeper -often wears a sort of blouse or short smock-frock of coarse strong -calico or canvas, which protects the corduroy suit from the soot. -In this description of the sweeper’s garb I can but speak of those -whose means enable them to attain the comfort of warm apparel in the -winter; the poorer part of the trade often shiver shirtless under a -blouse which half covers a pair of threadbare trowsers. The cost of the -corduroy suit I have mentioned varies, I was told by a sweeper, who put -it tersely enough, “from 20_s._ _slop_, to 40_s._ _slap_.” The average -runs, I believe, from 28_s._ to 33_s._, as regards the better class of -the sweepers. - -The _diet of the journeymen sweepers and the apprentices_, and -sometimes of their working employer, was described to me as generally -after the following fashion. My informant, a journeyman, calculated -what his food “stood his master,” as he had once “kept hisself.” - - Daily. - _s._ _d._ - Bread and butter and coffee for breakfast 0 2 - - A saveloy and potatoes, or cabbage; - or a “fagot,” with the same vegetables; or - fried fish (but not often); or pudding, - from a pudding-shop; or soup (a twopenny - plate) from a cheap eating-house; average - from 2_d._ to 3_d._ 0 2-1/2 - - Tea, same as breakfast 0 2 - ---------- - 0 6-1/2 - -On Sundays the fare was better. They then sometimes had a bit of “prime -fat mutton” taken to the oven, with “taturs to bake along with it;” or -a “fry of liver, if the old ’oman was in a good humour,” and always a -pint of beer apiece. Hence, as some give their men beer, the average -amount of 5_s._ or 6_s._ weekly, which I have given as the cost of -the “board” to the masters, is made up. The drunken single-handed -master-men, I am told, live on beer and “a bite of anything they can -get.” I believe there are few complaints of inefficient food. - -The food provided by the large or high master sweepers is generally of -the same kind as the master and his family partake of; among this class -the journeymen are tolerably well provided for. - -In the lower-class sweepers, however, the food is not so plentiful -nor so good in kind as that provided by the high master sweepers. The -expense of keeping a man employed by a large master sometimes ranges -as high as 8_s._ a week, but the average, I am told, is about 6_s._ -per week; while those employed by the low-class sweepers average about -5_s._ a week. The cost of their lodging may be taken at from 1_s._ to -2_s._ a week extra. - -The sweepers in general are, I am assured, fond of oleaginous food; fat -broth, fagots, and what is often called “greasy” meat. - -They are considered _a short-lived people_, and among the journeymen, -the masters “on their own hook,” &c., few old men are to be met with. -In one of the reports of the Board of Health, out of 4312 deaths -among males, of the age of 15 and upwards, the mortality among the -sweepers, masters and men, was 9, or one in 109 of the whole trade. As -the calculation was formed, however, from data supplied by the census -of 1841, and on the Post Office Directory, it supplies no reliable -information, as I shall show when I come to treat of the nightmen. -Many of these men still suffer, I am told, from the chimney-sweeper’s -cancer, which is said to arise mainly from uncleanly habits. Some -sweepers assure me that they have vomited balls of soot. - -_As to the abodes of the master sweepers_, I can supply the following -account of two. The soot, I should observe, is seldom kept long, rarely -a month, on the premises of a sweeper, and is in the best “concerns” -kept in cellars. - -The localities in which many of the sweepers reside are the “lowest” -places in the district. Many of the houses in which I found the -lower class of sweepers were in a ruinous and filthy condition. -The “high-class” sweepers, on the other hand, live in respectable -localities, often having back premises sufficiently large to stow away -their soot. - -I had occasion to visit the house of one of the persons from whom I -obtained much information. He is a master in a small way, a sensible -man, and was one of the few who are teetotallers. His habitation, -though small--being a low house only one story high--was substantially -furnished with massive mahogany chairs, table, chests of drawers, &c., -while on each side of the fire-place, which was distinctly visible from -the street over a hall door, were two buffets, with glass doors, well -filled with glass and china vessels. It was a wet night, and a fire -burned brightly in the stove, by the light of which might be seen the -master of the establishment sitting on one side, while his wife and -daughter occupied the other; a neighbour sat before the fire with his -back to the door, and altogether it struck me as a comfortable-looking -evening party. They were resting and chatting quietly together after -the labour of the day, and everything betokened the comfortable -circumstances in which the man, by sobriety and industry, had been able -to place himself. Yet this man had been a climbing-boy, and one of the -unfortunates who had lost his parents when a child, and was apprenticed -by the parish to this business. From him I learned that his was not a -solitary instance of teetotalism (I have before spoken of another); -that, in fact, there were some more, and one in particular, named -Brown, who was a good speaker, and devoted himself during his leisure -hours at night in advocating the principles which by experience he had -found to effect such great good to himself; but he also informed me -that the majority of the others were a drunken and dissipated crew, -sunk to the lowest degree of misery, yet recklessly spending every -farthing they could earn in the public-house. - -Different in every respect was another house which I visited in -the course of my inquiries, in the neighbourhood of H-----street, -Bethnal-green. The house was rented by a sweeper, a master on his own -account, and every room in the place was let to sweepers and their -wives or women, which, with these men, often signify one and the same -thing. The inside of the house looked as dark as a coal-pit; there was -an insufferable smell of soot, always offensive to those unaccustomed -to it; and every person and every thing which met the eye, even to the -caps and gowns of the women, seemed as if they had just been steeped -in Indian ink. In one room was a sweep and his woman quarrelling. As -I opened the door I caught the words, “I’m d----d if I has it any -longer. I’d see you b----y well d----d first, and you knows it.” The -savage was intoxicated, for his red eyes flashed through his sooty -mask with drunken excitement, and his matted hair, which looked as if -it had never known a comb, stood out from his head like the whalebone -ribs of his own machine. “B----y Bet,” as he called her, did not -seem a whit more sober than her man; and the shrill treble of her -voice was distinctly audible till I turned the corner of the street, -whither I was accompanied by the master of the house, to whom I had -been recommended by one of the fraternity as an intelligent man, and -one who knew “a thing or two.” “You see,” he said, as we turned the -corner, “there isn’t no use a talkin’ to them ere fellows--they’re all -tosticated now, and they doesn’t care nothink for nobody; but they’ll -be quiet enough to-morrow, ’cept they yarns somethink, and if they -do then they’ll be just as bad to-morrow night. They’re a awful lot, -and nobody ill niver do anythink with them.” This man was not by any -means in such easy circumstances as the master first mentioned. He was -merely a man working for himself, and unable to employ any one else in -the business; as is customary with some of these people, he had taken -the house he had shown me to let to lodgers of his own class, making -something by so doing; though, if his own account be correct, I’m at -a loss to imagine how he contrived even to get his rent. From him I -obtained the following statement:-- - -“Yes, I was a climbing-boy, and sarved a rigler printiceship for seven -years. I was out on my printiceship when I was fourteen. Father was a -silk-weaver, and did all he knew to keep me from being a sweep, but I -would be a sweep, and nothink else.” [This is not so very uncommon a -predilection, strange as it may seem.] “So father, when he saw it was -no use, got me bound printice. Father’s alive now, and near 90 years of -age. I don’t know why I wished to be a sweep, ’cept it was this--there -was sweeps always lived about here, and I used to see the boys with -lots of money a tossin’ and gamblin’, and wished to have money too. -You see they got money where they swept the chimneys; they used to -get 2_d._ or 3_d._ for theirselves in a day, and sometimes 6_d._ from -the people of the house, and that’s the way they always had plenty of -money. I niver thought anythink of the climbing; it wasn’t so bad at -all as some people would make you believe. There are two or three ways -of climbing. In wide flues you climb with your elbows and your legs -spread out, your feet pressing against the sides of the flue; but in -narrow flues, such as nine-inch ones, you must slant it; you must have -your sides in the angles, it’s wider there, and go up just that way.” -[Here he threw himself into position--placing one arm close to his -side, with the palm of the hand turned outwards, as if pressing the -side of the flue, and extending the other arm high above his head, the -hand apparently pressing in the same manner.] “There,” he continued, -“that’s slantin’. You just put yourself in that way, and see how small -you make yourself. I niver got to say stuck myself, but a many of them -did; yes, and were taken out dead. They were smothered for want of -air, and the fright, and a stayin’ so long in the flue; you see the -waistband of their trowsers sometimes got turned down in the climbing, -and in narrow flues, when not able to get it up, then they stuck. I -had a boy once--we were called to sweep a chimney down at Poplar. When -we went in he looked up the flues, ‘Well, what is it like?’ I said. -‘Very narrow,’ says he, ‘don’t think I can get up there;’ so after some -time we gets on top of the house, and takes off the chimney-pot, and -has a look down--it was wider a’ top, and I thought as how he could -go down. ‘You had better buff it, Jim,’ says I. I suppose you know -what that means; but Jim wouldn’t do it, and kept his trowsers on. So -down he goes, and gets on very well till he comes to the shoulder of -the flue, and then he couldn’t stir. He shouts down, ‘I’m stuck.’ I -shouts up and tells him what to do. ‘Can’t move,’ says he, ‘I’m stuck -hard and fast.’ Well, the people of the house got fretted like, but I -says to them, ‘Now my boy’s stuck, but for Heaven’s sake don’t make -a word of noise; don’t say a word, good or bad, and I’ll see what I -can do.’ So I locks the door, and buffs it, and forces myself up till -I could reach him with my hand, and as soon as he got his foot on my -hand he begins to prize himself up, and gets loosened, and comes out -at the top again. I was stuck myself, but I was stronger nor he, and -I manages to get out again. Now I’ll be bound to say if there was -another master there as would kick up a row and a-worrited, that ere -boy ’ud a niver come out o’ that ere flue alive. There was a many o’ -them lost their lives in that way. Most all the printices used to come -from the ‘House’ (workhouse.) There was nobody to care for them, and -some masters used them very bad. I was out of my time at fourteen, and -began to get too stout to go up the flues; so after knockin’ about -for a year or so, as I could do nothink else, I goes to sea on board -a man-o’-war, and was away four year. Many of the boys, when they got -too big and useless, used to go to sea in them days--they couldn’t do -nothink else. Yes, many of them went for sodgers; and I know some who -went for Gipsies, and others who went for play-actors, and a many who -got on to be swell-mobsmen, and thieves, and housebreakers, and the -like o’ that ere. There ain’t nothink o’ that sort a-goin’ on now since -the Ack of Parliament. When I got back from sea father asked me to larn -his business; so I takes to the silk-weaving and larned it, and then -married a weaveress, and worked with father for a long time. Father was -very well off--well off and comfortable for a poor man--but trade was -good then. But it got bad afterwards, and none on us was able to live -at it; so I takes to the chimney-sweeping again. _A man might manage to -live somehow at the sweeping, but the weaving was o’ no use._ It was -the furrin silks as beat us all up, that’s the whole truth. Yet they -tells us as how they was a-doin’ the country good; but they may tell -that to the marines--the sailors won’t believe it--not a word on it. -I’ve stuck to the sweeping ever since, and sometimes done very fair at -it; but since the Ack there’s so many leeks come to it that I don’t -know how they live--they must be eatin’ one another up. - -“Well, since you ask then, I can tell you that our people don’t care -much about law; they don’t understand anythink about politics much; -they don’t mind things o’ that ere kind. They only minds to get drunk -when they can. Some on them fellows as you seed in there niver cleans -theirselves from one year’s end to the other. They’ll kick up a row -soon enough, with Chartists or anybody else. I thinks them Chartists -are a weak-minded set; they was too much a frightened at nothink,--a -hundred o’ them would run away from one blue-coat, and that wasn’t like -men. I was often at Chartist meetings, and if they’d only do all they -said there was a plenty to stick to them, for there’s a somethink wants -to be done very bad, for everythink is a-gettin’ worser and worser -every day. I used to do a good trade, but now I don’t yarn a shilling -a day all through the year (?). I may walk at this time three or four -miles and not get a chimney to sweep, and then get only a sixpence or -threepence, and sometimes nothink. It’s a starvin’, that’s what it is; -there’s so much ‘querying’ a-goin’ on. Querying? that’s what we calls -under-working[61]. If they’d all fix a riglar price we might do very -well still. I’m 50 years of age, or thereabouts. I don’t know much -about the story of Mrs. Montague; it was afore my time. I heard of it -though. I heard my mother talk about it; she used to read it out of -books; she was a great reader--none on ’em could stand afore her for -that. I was often at the dinner--the masters’ dinner--that was for the -boys; but that’s all done away long ago, since the Ack of Parliament. -I can’t tell how many there was at it, but there’s such a lot it’s -impossible to tell. How could any one tell all the sweeps as is in -London? I’m sure I can’t, and I’m sure nobody else can.” - -Some years back the sweepers’ houses were often indicated by an -elaborate sign, highly coloured. A sweeper, accompanied by a “chummy” -(once a common name for the climbing-boy, being a corruption of -chimney), was depicted on his way to a red brick house, from the -chimneys of which bright yellow flames were streaming. Below was the -detail of the things undertaken by the sweep, such as the extinction of -fires in chimneys, the cleaning of smoke-jacks, &c., &c. A few of these -signs, greatly faded, may be seen still. A sweeper, who is settled in -what is accounted a “genteel neighbourhood,” has now another way of -making his calling known. He leaves a card whenever he hears of a new -comer, a tape being attached, so that it can be hung up in the kitchen, -and thus the servants are always in possession of his address. The -following is a customary style:-- - -“Chimneys swept by the improved machine, much patronized by the Humane -Society. - -“W. H., Chimney Sweeper and Nightman, 1, ---- Mews, in returning thanks -to the inhabitants of the surrounding neighbourhood for the patronage -he has hitherto received, begs to inform them that he sweeps all kinds -of chimneys and flues in the best manner. - -“W. H., attending to the business himself, cleans smoke-jacks, -cures smoky coppers, and extinguishes chimneys when on fire, with -the greatest care and safety; and, by giving the strictest personal -attendance to business, performs what he undertakes with cleanliness -and punctuality, whereby he hopes to ensure a continuance of their -favours and recommendations. - -“Clean cloths for upper apartments. Soot-doors to any size fixed. -Observe the address, 1, ---- Mews, near ----.” - -At the top of this card is an engraving of the machine; at the foot a -rude sketch of a nightman’s cart, with men at work. All the cards I saw -reiterated the address, so that no mistake might lead the customer to a -rival tradesman. - -_As to their politics_, the sweepers are somewhat similar to the -dustmen and costermongers. A fixed hatred to all constituted authority, -which they appear to regard as the police and the “beaks,” seems to -be the sum total of their principles. Indeed, it almost assumes the -character of a fixed law, that persons and classes of persons who are -themselves disorderly, and to a certain extent lawless, always manifest -the most supreme contempt for the conservators of law and order in -every degree. The police are therefore hated heartily, magistrates -are feared and abominated, and Queen, Lords, and Commons, and every -one in authority, if known anything about, are considered as natural -enemies. A costermonger who happened to be present while I was making -inquiries on this subject, broke in with this remark, “The costers is -the chaps--the government can’t do nothink with them--they allus licks -the government.” The sweepers have a sovereign contempt for all Acts of -Parliament, because the only Act that had any reference to themselves -“threw open,” as they call it, their business to all who were needy -enough and who had the capability of availing themselves of it. Like -the “dusties” they are, I am informed, in their proper element in times -of riot and confusion; but, unlike them, they are, to a man, Chartists, -understanding it too, and approving of it, not because it would be -calculated to establish a new order of things, but in the hope that, in -the transition from one system to the other, there might be plenty of -noise and riot, and in the vague idea that in some indefinable manner -good must necessarily accrue to themselves from any change that might -take place. This I believe to be in perfect keeping with the sentiments -of similar classes of people in every country in the world. - -The journeymen lay by no money when in work, as a fund to keep them -when incapacitated by sickness, accident, or old age. There are, -however, a few exceptions to the general improvidence of the class; -some few belong to sick and benefit societies, others are members of -burial clubs. Where, however, this is not the case, and a sweeper -becomes unable, through illness, to continue his work, the mode usually -adopted is to make a raffle for the benefit of the sufferer; the same -means are resorted to at the death of a member of the trade. When a -chimney-sweeper becomes infirm through age, he has mostly, if not -invariably, no refuge but the workhouse. - -_The chimney-sweepers generally are regardless of the marriage -ceremony_, and when they do live with a woman it is in a state -of concubinage. These women are always among the lowest of the -street-girls--such as lucifer-match and orange girls, some of the very -poorest of the coster girls, and girls brought up among the sweepers. -They are treated badly by them, and often enough left without any -remorse. The women are equally as careless in these matters as the men, -and exchange one paramour for another with the same levity, so that -there is a promiscuous intercourse continually going on among them. I -am informed that, among the worst class of sweepers living with women, -not one in 50 is married. To these couples very few children are -born; but I am not able to state the proportion as compared with other -classes. - -_There are some curious customs among the London sweepers_ which -deserve notice. Their May-day festival is among the best known. The -most intelligent of the masters tell me that they have taken this -“from the milkmen’s garland” (of which an engraving has been given). -Formerly, say they, on the first of May the milkmen of London went -through the streets, performing a sort of dance, for which they -received gratuities from their customers. The music to which they -danced was simply brass plates mounted on poles, from the circumference -of which plates depended numerous bells of different tones, according -to size; these poles were adorned with leaves and flowers, indicative -of the season, and may have been a relic of one of the ancient pageants -or mummeries. - -The sweepers, however, by adapting themselves more to the rude taste -of the people, appear to have completely supplanted the milkmen, who -are now never seen in pageantry. In Strutt’s “Sports and Pastimes of -the People of England,” I find the following with reference to the -milk-people:-- - -“It is at this time,” that is in May, says the author of one of the -papers in the _Spectator_, “we see brisk young wenches in the country -parishes dancing round the Maypole. It is likewise on the first day of -this month that we see the ruddy milkmaid exerting herself in a most -sprightly manner under a pyramid of silver tankards, and, like the -Virgin Tarpeia, oppressed by the costly ornaments which her benefactors -lay upon her. These decorations of silver cups, tankards, and salvers, -were borrowed for the purpose, and hung round the milk-pails, with the -addition of flowers and ribands, which the maidens carried upon their -heads when they went to the houses of their customers, and danced in -order to obtain a small gratuity from each of them. In a set of prints, -called ‘Tempest’s Cries of London,’ there is one called the ‘Merry -Milkmaid,’ whose proper name was Kate Smith. She is dancing with the -milk-pail, decorated as above mentioned, upon her head. Of late years -the plate, with the other decorations, were placed in a pyramidical -form, and carried by two chairmen upon a wooden horse. The maidens -walked before it, and performed the dance without any incumbrance. I -really cannot discover what analogy the silver tankards and salvers can -have to the business of the milkmaids. I have seen them act with much -more propriety upon this occasion, when, in place of these superfluous -ornaments, they substituted a cow. The animal had her horns gilt, and -was nearly covered with ribands of various colours formed into bows and -roses, and interspersed with green oaken leaves and bunches of flowers.” - -[Illustration: THE MILKMAID’S GARLAND. - -THE ORIGINAL OF THE SWEEP’S MAY-DAY EXHIBITION.] - -With reference to the May-day festival of the sweepers the same author -says:--“The chimney-sweepers of London have also singled out the first -of May for their festival, at which time they parade the streets in -companies, disguised in various manners. Their dresses are usually -decorated with gilt paper and other mock fineries; they have their -shovels and brushes in their hands, which they rattle one upon the -other; and to this rough music they jump about in imitation of dancing. -Some of the larger companies have a fiddler with them, and a Jack -in the Green, as well as a Lord and Lady of the May, who follow the -minstrel with great stateliness, and dance as occasion requires. The -Jack in the Green is a piece of pageantry consisting of a hollow frame -of wood or wicker-work, made in the form of a sugar-loaf, but open at -the bottom, and sufficiently large and high to receive a man. The frame -is covered with green leaves and bunches of flowers, interwoven with -each other, so that the man within may be completely concealed, who -dances with his companions; and the populace are mightily pleased with -the oddity of the moving pyramid.” - -Since the date of the above, the sweepers have greatly improved -on their pageant, substituting for the fiddle the more noisy and -appropriate music of the street-showman’s drum and pipes, and adding to -their party several diminutive imps, no doubt as representatives of the -climbing-boys, clothed in caps, jackets, and trowsers, thickly covered -with party-coloured shreds. These still make a show of rattling their -shovels and brushes, but the clatter is unheard alongside the thunders -of the drum. In this manner they go through the various streets for -three days, obtaining money at various places, and on the third night -hold a feast at one of their favourite public-houses, where all the -sooty tribes resort, and, in company with their wives or girls, keep -up their festivity till the next morning. I find that this festival is -beginning to disappear in many parts of London, but it still holds its -ground, and is as highly enjoyed as ever, in all the eastern localities -of the metropolis. - -It is but seldom that any of the large masters go out on May-day; this -custom is generally confined to the little masters and their men. The -time usually spent on these occasions is four days, during which as -much as from 2_l._ to 4_l._ a day is collected; the sums obtained on -the three first days are divided according to the several kinds of work -performed. But the proceeds of the fourth day are devoted to a supper. -The average gains of the several performers on these occasions are as -follows:-- - - My lady, who acts as Columbine, - and receives 2_s._ per day. - - My lord, who is often the master - himself, but usually one of the - journeymen 3_s._ „ - - Clown 3_s._ „ - - Drummer 4_s._ „ - - Jack in the green, who is often an - individual acquaintance, and - does not belong to the trade 3_s._ „ - - And the boys, who have no term - term applied to them, receive - from 1_s._ to 1_s._ 6_d._ „ - -The share accruing to the boys is often spent in purchasing some -article of clothing for them, but the money got by the other -individuals is mostly spent in drink. - -The sweepers, however, not only go out on May-day, but likewise on -the 5th of November. On the last Guy-Fawkes day, I am informed, some -of them received not only pence from the public, but silver and gold. -“It was quite a harvest,” they say. One of this class, who got up a -gigantic Guy Fawkes and figure of the Pope on the 5th of November, -1850, cleared, I am informed, 10_l._ over and above all expenses. - -For many years, also, the sweepers were in the habit of partaking of a -public dinner on the 1st of May, provided for every climbing-boy who -thought proper to attend, at the expense of the Hon. Mrs. Montagu. The -romantic origin of this custom, from all I could learn on the subject, -is this:--The lady referred to, at the time a widow, lost her son, -then a boy of tender years. Inquiries were set on foot, and all London -heard of the mysterious disappearance of the child, but no clue could -be found to trace him out. It was supposed that he was kidnapped, and -the search at length was given up in despair. A long time afterwards a -sweeper was employed to cleanse the chimneys of Mrs. Montagu’s house, -by Portman-square, and for this purpose, as was usual at the time, -sent a climbing-boy up the chimney, who from that moment was lost to -him. The child did not return the way he went up, but it is supposed -that in his descent he got into a wrong flue, and found himself, on -getting out of the chimney, in one of the bedrooms. Wearied with his -labour, it is said that he mechanically crept between the sheets, all -black and sooty as he was. In this state he was found fast asleep by -the housekeeper. The delicacy of his features and the soft tones of his -voice interested the woman. She acquainted the family with the strange -circumstance, and, when introduced to them with a clean face, his voice -and appearance reminded them of their lost child. It may have been that -the hardships he endured at so early an age had impaired his memory, -for he could give no account of himself; but it was evident, from his -manners and from the ease which he exhibited, that he was no stranger -to such places, and at length, it is said, the Hon. Mrs. Montagu -recognised in him her long-lost son. The identity, it was understood, -was proved beyond doubt. He was restored to his rank in society, and -in order the better to commemorate this singular restoration, and the -fact of his having been a climbing-boy, his mother annually provided -an entertainment on the 1st of May, at White Conduit House, for all -the climbing-boys of London who thought proper to partake of it. This -annual feast was kept up during the lifetime of the lady, and, as -might be expected, was numerously attended, for since there were no -question asked and no document required to prove any of the guests to -be climbing-boys, very many of the precocious urchins of the metropolis -used to blacken their faces for this special occasion. This annual -feast continued, as I have said, as long as the lady lived. Her son -continued it only for three or four years afterwards, and then, I am -told, left the country, and paid no further attention to the matter. - -Of the story of the young Montagu, Charles Lamb has given the following -account:-- - -“In one of the state-beds at Arundel Castle, a few years since--under -a ducal canopy (that seat of the Howards is an object of curiosity to -visitors, chiefly for its beds, in which the late duke was especially -a connoisseur)--encircled with curtains of delicatest crimson, with -starry coronets interwoven--folded between a pair of sheets whiter -and softer than the lap where Venus lulled Ascanius--was discovered -by chance, after all methods of search had failed, at noon-day, fast -asleep, a lost chimney-sweeper. The little creature having somehow -confounded his passage among the intricacies of those lordly chimneys, -by some unknown aperture had alighted upon this magnificent chamber, -and, tired with his tedious explorations, was unable to resist the -delicious invitement to repose, which he there saw exhibited; so, -creeping between the sheets very quietly, he laid his black head on -the pillow and slept like a young Howard.”.... “A high instinct,” -adds Lamb, “was at work in the case, or I am greatly mistaken. Is it -probable that a poor child of that description, with whatever weariness -he might be visited, would have ventured under such a penalty as he -would be taught to expect, to uncover the sheets of a duke’s bed, and -deliberately to lay himself down between them, when the rug or the -carpet presented an obvious couch still far above his pretensions?--is -this probable, I would ask, if the great power of nature, which I -contend for, had not been manifested within him, prompting to the -adventure? Doubtless, this young nobleman (for such my mind misgives -me he must be) was allured by some memory not amounting to full -consciousness of his condition in infancy, when he was used to be lapt -by his mother or his nurse in just such sheets as he there found, -into which he was now but creeping back as into his proper incubation -(_incunabula_) and resting place. By no other theory than by his -sentiment of a pre-existent state (as I may call it) can I explain a -deed so venturous.” - -There is a strong strain of romance throughout the stories of the lost -and found young Montagu. I conversed with some sweepers on the subject. -The majority had not so much as heard of the occurrence, but two who -had heard of it--both climbing-boys in their childhood--had heard -that the little fellow was found in his mother’s house. In a small -work, the “Chimney-Sweepers’ Friend,” got up in aid of the Society for -the Supersedence of Climbing Boys, by some benevolent Quaker ladies -and others (the Quakers having been among the warmest supporters of -the suppression of climbers), and “arranged” (the word “edited” not -being used) by J. Montgomery, the case of the little Montagu is not -mentioned, excepting in two or three vague poetical allusions. - -The account given by Lamb (although pronounced apocryphal by some) -appears to be the more probable version; and to the minds of many is -shown to be conclusively authentic, as I understand that, when Arundel -Castle is shown to visitors, the bed in which the child was found is -pointed out; nor is it likely that in such a place the story of the -ducal bed and the little climbing-boy would be _invented_. - -The following account was given by the wife of a respectable man (now -a middle-aged woman) and she had often heard it from her mother, who -passed a long life in the neighbourhood of Mrs. Montagu’s residence:-- - -“Lady M. had a son of tender years, who was supposed to have been -stolen for the sake of his clothes. Some time after, there was an -occasion when the sweeps were necessary at Montagu House. A servant -noticed one of the boys, being at first attracted by his superior -manner, and her curiosity being excited fancied a resemblance in him -to the lost child. She questioned his master respecting him, who -represented that he had found him crying and without a home, and -thereupon took him in, and brought him up to his trade. The boy was -questioned apart from his master, as to the treatment he received; his -answers were favourable; and the consequence was, a compensation was -given to the man, and the boy was retained. All doubt was removed as to -his identity.” - -The annual feast at “White Condick,” so agreeable to the black -fraternity, was afterwards continued in another form, and was the -origin of a well-known society among the master sweepers, which -continued in existence till the abolition of the climbing-boys by Act -of Parliament. The masters and the better class of men paid a certain -sum yearly, for the purpose of binding the children of the contributors -to other trades. In order to increase the funds of this institution, as -the dinner to the boys at White Conduit House was an established thing, -the masters continued it, and the boys of every master who belonged to -the society went in a sort of state to the usual place of entertainment -every 1st of May, where they were regaled as formerly. Many persons -were in the habit of flocking on this day to White Conduit House to -witness the festivities of the sweepers on this occasion, and usually -contributed something towards the society. As soon, however, as the Act -passed, this also was discontinued, and it is now one of the legends -connected with the class. - - -SWEEPING OF THE CHIMNEYS OF STEAM-VESSELS. - -The sweeping of the flues in the boilers of steam-boats, in the Port -of London, and also of land boilers in manufactories, is altogether -a distinct process, as the machine cannot be used until such time -as the parties who are engaged in this business travel a long way -through the flues, and reach the lower part of the chimney or funnel -where it communicates with the boilers and receives the smoke in its -passage to the upper air. The boilers in the large sea-going steamers -are of curious construction; in some large steamers there are four -separate boilers with three furnaces in each, the flues of each boiler -uniting in one beneath the funnel; immediately beyond the end of the -furnace, which is marked by a little wall constructed of firebrick to -prevent the coals and fire from running off the firebars, there is a -large open space very high and wide, and which space after a month’s -steaming is generally filled up with soot, somewhat resembling a snow -drift collected in a hollow, were it not for its colour and the fact -that it is sometimes in a state of ignition; it is, at times, so -deep, that a man sinks to his middle in it the moment he steps across -the firebridge. Above his head, and immediately over the end of the -furnace, he may perceive an opening in what otherwise would appear to -be a solid mass of iron; up to this opening, which resembles a doorway, -the sweeper must clamber the best way he can, and when he succeeds in -this he finds himself in a narrow passage completely dark, but with so -strong a current of air rushing through it from the furnaces beneath -towards the funnel overhead that it is with difficulty the wick lamp -which he carries in his hand can be kept burning. This passage, between -the iron walls on either side, is lofty enough for a tall man to stand -upright in, but does not seem at first of any great extent; as he -goes on, however, to what appears the end, he finds out his mistake, -by coming to a sharp turn which conducts him back again towards the -open space in the centre of the boiler, but which is now hid from him -by the hollow iron walls which on every side surround him, and within -which the waters boil and seethe as the living flames issuing from the -furnaces rush and roar through these winding passages; another sharp -turn leads back to the front of the boilers, and so on for seven or -eight turns, backwards and forwards, like the windings in a maze, till -at the last turn a light suddenly breaks upon him, and, looking up, -he perceives the hollow tube of the funnel, black and ragged with the -adhering soot. - -Here, then, the labour of the sweeper commences: he is armed with a -brush and shovel, and laying down his lamp in a space from which he -has previously shovelled away the soot, which in many parts of the -passage is knee deep, he brushes down the soot from the sides and roof -of the passage, which being done he shovels it before him into the -next winding; this process he repeats till he reaches, by degrees, the -opening where he ascended. Whenever the accumulation of soot is so -great that it is likely to block up the passage in the progress of his -work, he wades through and shovels as much as he thinks necessary out -of the opening into the large space behind the furnaces, then resumes -his work, brushing and shovelling by turns, till the flues are cleared; -when this is accomplished, he descends, and the fire bars being -previously removed, he shovels the soot, now all collected together, -over the firebridge and into the ashpit of the furnace; other persons -stand ready in the stoke-hole armed with long iron rakes, with which -they drag out the soot from the ashpits; and others shovel it into -sacks, which they make fast to tackle secured to the upper deck, by -which they “bowse” it up out of the engine-room, and either discharge -it overboard or put it into boats preparatory to being taken ashore. In -this manner an immense quantity of soot is removed from the boilers of -a large foreign-going steamer when she gets into port, after a month or -six weeks’ steaming, having burned in that time perhaps 700 or 800 tons -of coal: this work is always performed by the stokers and coal-trimmers -in the foreign ports, who seldom, if ever, get anything extra for it, -although it is no uncommon thing for some of them to be ill for a week -after it. - -In the port of London, however, the sweeper comes into requisition, -who, besides going through the process already described, brings his -machine with him, and is thus enabled to cleanse the funnel, and -to increase the quantity of soot. Some of the master sweepers, who -have the cleansing of the steam-boats in the river, and the sweeping -of boiler flues are obliged to employ a good many men, and make a -great deal of money by their business. The use of anthracite coals, -however, and some modern improvements, by which air at a certain -temperature is admitted to certain parts of the furnace, have in many -instances greatly lessened, if they have not altogether prevented, -the accumulation of soot, by the prevention of smoke; and it seems -quite possible, from the statements made by many eminent scientific -and practical men who were examined before a select committee of the -House of Commons, presided over by Mr. Mackinnon, in 1843, that by -having properly-constructed stoves, and a sufficient quantity of pure -air properly admitted, not only less fuel might be burned, and produce -a greater amount of heat, but soot would cease to accumulate, so that -the necessity for sweepers would be no longer felt, and there would be -no fear of fires from the ignition of soot in the flues of chimneys; -blacks and smoke, moreover, would take their departure together; and -with them the celebrated London fog might also, in a great measure, -disappear. - -The funnels of steamers are generally swept at from 8_d._ to 1_s._ -6_d._ per funnel. The Chelsea steamers are swept by Mr. Allbrook, of -Chelsea; the Continental, by Mr. Hawsey, of Rosemary-lane; and the -Irish and Scotch steamers, by Mr. Tuff, who resides in the East London -district. - - -OF THE “RAMONEUR” COMPANY. - -The Patent Ramoneur Company demands, perhaps, a special notice. It was -formed between four and five years ago, and has now four stations: one -in Little Harcourt-street, Bryanstone-square; another in New-road, -Sloane-street; a third in Charles-place, Euston-square; and the fourth -in William-street, Portland-town. - -“This Company has been formed,” the prospectus stated, “for the purpose -of cleansing chimneys with the Patent Ramoneur Machine, and introducing -various other improvements in the business of chimney sweeping. -Chimneys are daily swept with this machine where others have failed.” - -The Company charge the usual prices, and all the men employed have -been brought up as sweepers. The patent machine is thus described:-- - -“The Patent Ramoneur Machine consists of four brushes, forming a -square head, which, by means of elastic springs, contracts or expands, -according to the space it moves in; the rods attached to this head or -brush are supplied at intervals with a universal spring-joint, capable -of turning even a right angle, and the whole is surmounted with a -double revolving ball, having also a universal spring-joint, which -leads the brush with certainty into every corner, cleansing its route -most perfectly.” - -The recommendation held out to the public is, that the patented -chimney-machine sweeps cleaner than that in general use, and for the -reasons assigned; and that, being constructed with more and better -springs, it is capable of “turning even a right angle,” which the -common machine often leaves unswept. This was and is commonly said of -the difference between the cleansing of the chimney by a climbing-boy -and that effected by the present mechanical appliances in general -use--the boy was “better round a corner.” - -The patent machines now worked in London are fifteen in number, and -fifteen men are thus employed. Each man receives as a weekly wage, -always in money, 14_s._, besides a suit of clothes yearly. The suit -consists of a jacket, waistcoat, and trousers, of dark-coloured -corduroy; also a “frock” or blouse, to wear when at work, and a cap; -the whole being worth from 35_s._ to 40_s._ This payment is about -equivalent to that received weekly by the journeymen in the regular or -honourable trade; for although higher in nominal amount as a weekly -remuneration, the Ramoneur operatives are not allowed any perquisites -whatever. The resident or manager at each station is also a working -chimney-sweeper for the Company, and at the same rate as the others, -his advantage being that he lives rent-free. At one station which I -visited, the resident had two comfortable-looking up-stairs’-rooms (the -stations being all in small streets), where he and his wife lived; -while the “cellar,” which was indeed but the ground floor, although -somewhat lower than the doorstep, was devoted to business purposes, the -soot being stored there. It was boarded off into separate compartments, -one being at the time quite full of soot. All seemed as clean and -orderly as possible. The rent of those two rooms, unfurnished, would -not be less than 4_s._ or 5_s._ a week, so that the resident’s payment -may be put at about 50_l._ a year. The patent-machine operatives -sweep, on an average, the same number of chimneys each, as a master -chimney-sweeper’s men in a good way of business in the ordinary trade. - - -OF THE BRISK AND SLACK SEASONS, AND THE CASUAL TRADE AMONG THE -CHIMNEY-SWEEPERS. - -As among the rubbish-carters in the unskilled, and the tailors and -shoemakers of the skilled trades, the sweepers’ trade also has its -slackness and its briskness, and from the same cause--the difference in -the _seasons_. The seasons affecting the sweepers’ trade are, however, -the _natural_ seasons of the year, the recurring summer and winter, -while the seasons influencing the employment of West-end tailors are -the _arbitrary_ seasons of fashion. - -The chimney-sweepers’ _brisk_ season is in the winter, and especially -at what may be in the respective households the periods of the -resumption and discontinuance of sitting-room fires. - -The sweepers’ seasons of briskness and slackness, indeed, may be said -then to be ruled by the thermometer, for the temperature causes the -increase or diminution of the number of fires, and consequently of the -production of soot. The thermometrical period for fires appears to be -from October to the following April, both inclusive (seven months), for -during that season the temperature is below 50°. I have seen it stated, -and I believe it is merely a statement of a fact, that at one time, and -even now in some houses, it was customary enough for what were called -“great families” to have a fixed day (generally Michaelmas-day, Sept. -29) on which to commence fires in the sitting-rooms, and another stated -day (often May-day, May 1) on which to discontinue them, no matter what -might be the mean temperature, whether too warm for the enjoyment of a -fire, or too cold comfortably to dispense with it. Some wealthy persons -now, I am told--such as call themselves “economists,” while their -servants and dependants apply the epithet “mean”--defer fires until the -temperature descends to 42°, or from November to March, both inclusive, -a season of only five months. - -As this question of the range of the thermometer evidently influences -the seasons, and therefore, the casual labour of the sweepers, I will -give the following interesting account of the changing temperature of -the metropolis, month by month, the information being derived from -the observations of 25 years (1805 to 1830), by Mr. Luke Howard. The -average temperature appears to be:-- - - Degrees. - January 35·1 - February 38·9 - March 42·0 - April 47·5 - May 54·9 - June 59·6 - July 63·1 - August 57·1 - September 50·1 - October 42·4 - November 41·9 - December 38·3 - -London, I may further state, is 2-1/2 degrees warmer than the country, -especially in winter, owing to the shelter of buildings and the -multiplicity of the fires in the houses and factories. In the summer -the metropolis is about 1-1/4 degree hotter than the country, owing to -want of free air in London, and to a cause little thought about--the -reverberations from narrow streets. In spring and autumn, however, the -temperature of both town and country is nearly equal. - -In London, moreover, the nights are 11·3 degrees colder than the days; -in the country they are 15·4 degrees colder. The extreme ranges of -the temperature in the day, in the capital, are from 20° to 90°. -The thermometer _has_ fallen below zero in the night time, but not -frequently. - -In London the hottest months are 28 degrees warmer than the coldest; -the temperature of July, which is the hottest month, being 63·1; and -that of January, the coldest month, 35·1 degrees. - -The month in which there are the greatest number of extremes of heat -and cold is January. In February and December there are (generally -speaking) only two such extreme variations, and five in July; through -the other months, however, the extremes are more diffused, and there -are only two spring and two autumn months (April and June--September -and November), which are not exposed to great differences of -temperature. - -The mean temperature assumes a rate of increase in the different -months, which may be represented by a curve nearly equal and parallel -with one representing the progress of the sun in declination. - -Hoar-frosts occur when the thermometer is about 39°, and the dense -yellow fogs, so peculiar to London, are the most frequent in the months -of November, December, and January, whilst the temperature ranges below -40°. - -The busy season in the chimney-sweepers’ trade commences at the -beginning of November, and continues up to the month of May; during -the remainder of the year the trade is “slack.” When the slack season -has set in nearly 100 men are thrown out of employment. These, as -well as many of the single-handed masters, resort to other kinds of -employment. Some turn costermongers, others tinkers, knife-grinders, -&c., and others migrate to the country and get a job at haymaking, -or any other kind of unskilled labour. Even during the brisk season -there are upwards of 50 men out of employment; some of these -occasionally contrive to get a machine of their own, and go about -“knulling,”--getting a job where they can. - -Many of the master sweepers employ in the summer months only two -journeymen, whereas they require three in the winter months; but this, -I am informed, is not the general average, and that it will be more -correct to compute it for the whole trade, in the proportion of two and -a half to two. We may, then, calculate that one-fourth of the entire -trade is displaced during the slack season. - -This, then, may be taken as the extent of casual labour, with all -the sufferings it entails upon improvident, and even upon careful -working-men. - -A youth casually employed as a sweeper gave the following account:--“I -jobs for the sweeps sometimes, sir, as I’d job for anybody else, and -if you have any herrands to go, and will send me, I’ll be unkimmon -thankful. I haven’t no father and don’t remember one, and mother might -do well but for the ruin (gin). I calls it ‘ruin’ out of spite. No, I -don’t care for it myself. I like beer ten to a farthing to it. She’s a -ironer, sir, a stunning good one, but I don’t like to talk about her, -for she might yarn a hatful of browns--3_s._ 6_d._ a day; and when she -has pulled up for a month or more it’s stunning is the difference. I’d -rather not be asked more about that. Her great fault against me is as I -won’t settle. I was one time put to a woman’s shoemaker as worked for -a ware’us. He was a relation, and I was to go prentice if it suited. -But I couldn’t stand his confining ways, and I’m sartain sure that he -only wanted me for some tin mother said she’d spring if all was square. -He was bad off, and we lived bad, but he always pretended he was going -to be stunning busy. So I hooked it. I’d other places--a pot-boy’s was -one, but no go. None suited. - -“Well, I can keep myself now by jobbing, leastways I can partly, for I -have a crib in a corner of mother’s room, and my rent’s nothing, and -when she’s all right _I’m_ all right, and she gets better as I grows -bigger, I think. Well, I don’t know what I’d like to be; something -like a lamp-lighter, I think. Well, I look out for sweep jobs among -others, and get them sometimes. I don’t know how often. Sometimes three -mornings a week for one week; then none for a month. Can any one live -by jobbing that way for the sweeps? No, sir, nor get a quarter of a -living; but it’s a help. I know some very tidy sweeps now. I’m sure I -don’t know what they are in the way of trade. O, yes, now you ask that, -I think they’re masters. I’ve had 6_d._ and half-a-pint of beer for a -morning’s work, jobbing like. I carry soot for them, and I’m lent a -sort of jacket, or a wrap about me, to keep it off my clothes--though -a Jew wouldn’t sometimes look at ’em--and there’s worser people nor -sweeps. Sometimes I’ll get only 2_d._ or 3_d._ a day for helping that -way, a carrying soot. I don’t know nothing about weights or bushels, -but I know I’ve found it ---- heavy. - -“The way, you see, sir, is this here: I meets a sweep as knows me by -sight, and he says, ‘Come along, Tom’s not at work, and I want you. I -have to go it harder, so you carry the soot to our place to save my -time, and join me again at No. 39.’ That’s just the ticket of it. Well, -no; I wouldn’t mind being a sweep for myself with my own machine; but -I’d rather be a lamp-lighter. How many help sweeps as I do? I can’t at -all say. No, I don’t know whether it’s 10, or 20, or 100, or 1000. I’m -no scholard, sir, that’s one thing. But it’s very seldom such as me’s -wanted by them. I can’t tell what I get for jobbing for sweeps in a -year. I can’t guess at it, but it’s not so much, I think, as from other -kinds of jobbing. Yes, sir, I haven’t no doubt that the t’others as -jobs for sweeps is in the same way as me. I think I may do as much as -any of ’em that way, quite as much.” - - -OF THE “LEEKS” AMONG THE CHIMNEY-SWEEPERS. - -The _Leeks_ are men who have not been brought up to the trade of -chimney sweeping, but have adopted it as a speculation, and are so -called from their entering _green_, or inexperienced, into the -business. There are I find as many as 200 leeks altogether among the -master chimney-sweepers of the metropolis. Of the “high masters” the -greater portion are leeks--no less than 92 out of 106. I was informed -that one of this class was formerly a solicitor, others had been -ladies’ shoemakers, and others master builders and bricklayers. Among -the lower-class sweepers who have taken to this trade, there are -dustmen, scavagers, bricklayers’ labourers, soldiers, costermongers, -tinkers, and various other unskilled labourers. - -The leeks are regarded with considerable dislike by the class of -masters who have been regularly brought up to the business, and served -their apprenticeships as climbing-boys. These look upon the leeks -as men who intrude upon, or interfere with, their natural and, as -they account it, legal rights--declaring that only such as have been -brought up to the business should be allowed to establish themselves -in it as masters. The chimney-sweepers, as far as I can learn, have -never possessed any guild, or any especial trade regulations, and this -opinion of their rights being invaded by the leeks arises most probably -from their knowledge that during the climbing-boy system every lad so -employed, unless the son of his employer, was obliged to be apprenticed. - -This jealousy towards the leeks does not at all affect the operative -sweepers, as some of these leeks are good masters, and among them, -perhaps, is to be found the majority of the capitalists of the -chimney-sweeping trade, paying the best wages, and finding their -journeymen proper food and lodging. Into whatever district I travelled -I heard the operative chimney-sweepers speak highly in favour of some -of the leeks. - -Many of the small masters, however, said “it were a shame” for persons -who had never known the horrors of climbing to come into the trade -and take the bread out of the mouths of those who had undergone the -drudgery of the climbing system; and there appears to be some little -justice in their remarks. - -Since the introduction of machines into the chimney-sweeping trade -the masters have increased considerably. In 1816 there were 200 -masters, and now there are 350. Before the machines were introduced, -the high master sweepers or “great gentlemen,” as they were called, -numbered only about 20; their present number is 106. The lower-class -and master-men sweepers, on the other hand, were, under the climbing -system, from 150 to 180 in number; but at present there are as many as -240 odd. The majority of these fresh hands are “leeks,” not having been -bred to the business. - - -OF THE INFERIOR CHIMNEY-SWEEPERS--THE “KNULLERS” AND “QUERIERS.” - -The majority of occupations in all civilized communities are divisible -into two distinct classes, the employers and the employed. The -employers are necessarily capitalists to a greater or less extent, -providing generally the materials and implements necessary for the -work, as well as the subsistence of the workmen, in the form of wages -and appropriating the proceeds of the labour, while the employed are -those who, for the sake of the present subsistence supplied to them, -undertake to do the requisite work for the employer. In some few trades -these two functions are found to be united in the same individuals. -The class known as peasant proprietors among the cultivators of the -soil are at once the labourers and the owners of the land and stock. -The cottiers, on the other hand, though renting the land of the -proprietor, are, so to speak, peasant farmers, tilling the land for -themselves rather than doing so at wages for some capitalist tenant. -In handicrafts and manufactures the same combination of functions is -found to prevail. In the clothing districts the domestic workers are -generally their own masters, and so again in many other branches of -production. These trading operatives are known by different names -in different trades. In the shoe trade, for instance, they are -called “chamber-masters,” in the “cabinet trade” they are termed -“garret-masters,” and in “the cooper’s trade” the name for them is -“small trading-masters.” Some style them “master-men,” and others, -“single-handed masters.” In all occupations, however, the master-men -are found to be especially injurious to the interests of the entire -body of both capitalists and operatives, for, owing to the limited -extent of their resources, they are obliged to find a market for their -work, no matter at what the sacrifice, and hence by their excessive -competitions they serve to lower the prices of the trade to a most -unprecedented extent. I have as yet met with no occupation in which the -existence of a class of master-men has worked well for the interest of -the trade, and I have found many which they have reduced to a state -of abject wretchedness. It is a peculiar circumstance in connection -with the master-men that they abound only in those callings which -require a small amount of capital, and which, consequently, render it -easy for the operative immediately on the least disagreement between -him and his employer to pass from the condition of an operative into -that of a trading workman. When among the fancy cabinet-makers I had -a statement from a gentleman, in Aldersgate-street, who supplied the -materials to these men, that a fancy cabinet-maker, the manufacturer -of writing-desks, tea-caddies, ladies’ work-boxes, &c., could begin, -and did begin, business on less than 3_s._ 6_d._ A youth had just -then bought materials of him for 2_s._ 6_d._ to “begin on a small -desk,” stepping at once out of the trammels of apprenticeship into the -character of a master-man. Now this facility to commence business on a -man’s own account is far greater in the chimney-sweepers’ trade than -even in the desk-makers’, for the one needs no previous training, while -the other does. - -Thus when other trades, skilled or unskilled, are depressed, when -casual labour is with a mass of workpeople more general than constant -labour, they naturally inquire if they “cannot do better at something -else,” and often resort to such trades as the chimney-sweepers’. It -is open to all, skilled and unskilled alike. Distress, a desire of -change, a vagabond spirit, a hope to “better themselves,” all tend to -swell the ranks of the single-handed master chimney-sweepers; even -though these men, from the casualties of the trade in the way of -“seasons,” &c., are often exposed to great privations. - -There are in all 147 single-handed masters, who are thus distributed -throughout the metropolis:-- - -Southwark (17), Chelsea (11), Marylebone, Shoreditch, and -Whitechapel (each 9), Hackney, Stepney, and Lambeth (each 8), St. -George’s-in-the-East (7), Rotherhithe (6), St. Giles’ and East London -(each 5), Bethnal-green, Bermondsey, Camberwell, and Clapham (each 4), -St. Pancras, Islington, Walworth, and Greenwich (each 3), St. James’s -(Westminster), Holborn, Clerkenwell, St. Luke’s, Poplar, Westminster, -West London, City, Wandsworth, and Woolwich (each 1); in all, 147. - -Thus we perceive, that the single-handed masters abound in the suburbs -and poorer districts; and it is generally in those parts where the -lower rate of wages is paid that these men are found to prevail. Their -existence appears to be at once the cause and the consequence of the -depreciation of the labour. - -Of the single-handed masters there is a sub-class known by the name of -“knullers” or “queriers.” - -The _knullers_ were formerly, it is probable, known as knellers. The -Saxon word _Cnyllan_ is to knell (to knull properly), or sound a bell, -and the name “knuller” accordingly implies the sounder of a bell, which -has been done, there can be no doubt, by the London chimney-sweepers as -well as the dustmen, to announce their presence, and as still done in -some country parts. One informant has known this to be the practice at -the town of Hungerford in Berkshire. The bell was in size between that -of the muffin-man and the dustman. - -The knuller is also styled a “_querier_,” a name derived from his -making _inquiries_ at the doors of the houses as to whether his -services are required or are likely to be soon required, calling even -where they know that a regular resident chimney-sweeper is employed. -The men go along calling “sweep,” more especially in the suburbs, and -if asked “Are you Mr. So-and-So’s man?” answer in the affirmative, and -may then be called in to sweep the chimneys, or instructed to come -in the morning. Thus they receive the full charge of an established -master, who, for the sake of his character and the continuance of his -custom, must do his work properly; while if such work be done by the -knuller, it will be hurriedly and therefore badly done, as all work is, -in a general way, when done under false pretences. - -Some of the sharpest of these men, I am told, have been reared up -as sweepers; but it appears, although it is a matter difficult to -ascertain with precision, the majority have been brought up to some -generally unskilled calling, as scavagers, costermongers, tinkers, -bricklayers’ labourers, soldiers, &c. The knullers or queriers are -almost all to be found among the lower class chimney-sweepers. There -are, from the best information to be obtained, from 150 to 200 of them. -Not only do they scheme for employment in the way I have described, -but some of them call at the houses of both rich and poor, boldly -stating that they had been _sent_ by Mr. ---- to sweep the flues. I -was informed by several of the master sweepers, that many of the fires -which happen in the metropolis are owing to persons employing these -“knullers,” “for,” say the high masters, “they scamp the work, and -leave a quantity of soot lodged in the chimney, which, in the event -of a large fire being kept in the range or grate, ignites.” This -opinion as to the fires in the chimneys being caused by the scamped -work of the knullers must be taken with some allowance. Tradesmen, -whose established business is thus, as they account it, usurped, are -naturally angry with the usurpers. - -There is another evil, so say the regular masters, resulting from the -employment of the knullers--the losses accruing to persons employing -them, as “they take anything they can lay their hands upon.” - -This, also, is a charge easy to make, but not easy to refute, or even -to sift. One master chimney-sweeper told me that when chimneys are -swept in rich men’s houses there is almost always some servant in -attendance to watch the sweepers. If the rich, I am told, be watchful -under these circumstances, the poor are more vigilant. - -The distribution of the knullers or queriers is as follows:--Southwark -(17), Chelsea and St. Giles’ (11 each), Shoreditch and Whitechapel -(10 each), Lambeth (9), Marylebone, Stepney and Walworth (8 each), -St. George’s in the East and Woolwich (7 each), Islington and -Hackney (6 each), East London, Rotherhithe, and Greenwich (5 each), -Paddington, St. Pancras, East London, Rotherhithe and Greenwich -(5 each), Paddington, St. Pancras, Bethnal Green, Bermondsey, and -Clapham (4 each), Westminster, St. Martin’s, Holborn, St. Luke’s, West -London, Poplar, and Camberwell (3 each); St. James’s (Westminster), -Clerkenwell, City of London, and Wandsworth (2 each), Kensington (1); -in all, 183. - -Like the single-handed men the knullers abound in the suburbs. I -endeavoured to find a knuller who had been a skilled labourer, and -was referred to one who, I was told, had been a working plumber, and -a “good hand at spouts.” I found him a doggedly ignorant man; he saw -no good, he said, in books or newspapers, and “wouldn’t say nothing to -me, as I’d told him it would be printed. He wasn’t a going to make a -holy-show [so I understood him] of _his_-self.” - -Another knuller (to whom I was referred by a master who occasionally -employed him as a journeyman) gave me the following account. He was -“doing just middling” when I saw him, he said, but his look was that of -a man who had known privations, and the soot actually seemed to bring -out his wrinkles more fully, although he told me he was only between 40 -and 50 years old; he believed he was not 46. - -“I was hard brought up, sir,” he said; “ay, them as’ll read your -book--I mean them readers as is well to do--cannot fancy how hard. -Mother was a widow; father was nobody knew where; and, poor woman, she -was sometimes distracted that a daughter she had before her marriage, -went all wrong. She was a washerwoman, and slaved herself to death. She -died in the house [workhouse] in Birmingham. I can read and write a -little. I was sent to a charity school, and when I was big enough I was -put ’prentice to a gunsmith at Birmingham. I’m master of the business -generally, but my perticler part is a gun lock-filer. No, sir, I can’t -say as ever I liked it; nothing but file file all day. I used to wish I -was like the free bits o’ boys that used to beg steel filings of me for -their fifth of November fireworks. I never could bear confinement. It’s -made me look older than I ought, I know, but what can a poor man do? -No, I never cared much about drinking. I worked in an iron-foundry when -I was out of my time. I had a relation that was foreman there. Perhaps -it might be that, among all the dust and heat and smoke and stuff, that -made me a sweep at last, for I was then almost or quite as black as a -sweep. - -“Then I come up to London; ay, that must be more nor 20 years back. -O, I came up to better myself, but I couldn’t get work either at the -gun-makers--and I fancy the London masters don’t like Birmingham -hands--nor at the iron-foundries, and the iron-foundries is nothing in -London to what they is in Staffordshire and Warwickshire; nothing at -all, they may say what they like. Well, sir, I soon got very bad off. -My togs was hardly to call togs. One night--and it was a coldish night, -too--I slept in the park, and was all stiff and shivery next morning. -As I was wandering about near the park, I walked up a street near the -Abbey--King-street, I think it is--and there was a picture outside a -public-house, and a writing of men wanted for the East India Company’s -Service. I went there again in the evening, and there was soldiers -smoking and drinking up and down, and I ’listed at once. I was to have -my full bounty when I got to the depôt--Southampton I think they called -it. Somehow I began to rue what I’d done. Well, I hardly can tell you -why. O, no; I don’t say I was badly used; not at all. But I had heard -of snakes and things in the parts I was going to, and I gently hooked -it. I was a navvy on different rails after that, but I never was strong -enough for that there work, and at last I couldn’t get any more work -to do. I came back to London; well, sir, I can’t say, as you ask, why -I came to London ’stead of Birmingham. I seemed to go natural like. I -could get nothing to do, and Lord! what I suffered! I once fell down in -the Cut from hunger, and I was lifted into Watchorn’s, and he said to -his men, ‘Give the poor fellow a little drop of brandy, and after that -a biscuit; the best things he can have.’ He saved my life, sir. The -people at the bar--they see’d it was no humbug--gathered 7-1/2_d._ for -me. A penny a-piece from some of Maudslay’s men, and a halfpenny from -a gent that hadn’t no other change, and a poor woman as I was going -away slipt a couple of trotters into my hand. - -“I slept at a lodging-house, then, in Baldwin’s-gardens when I had -money, and one day in Gray’s inn-lane I picked up an old gent that fell -in the middle of the street, and might have been run over. After he’d -felt in all his pockets, and found he was all right, he gave me 5_s._ I -knew a sweep, for I sometimes slept in the same house, in King-street, -Drury-lane; and he was sick, and was going to the big house. And he -told me all about his machines, that’s six or seven years back, and -said if I’d pay 2_s._ 6_d._ down, and 2_s._ 6_d._ a week, if I couldn’t -pay more, I might have his machine for 20_s._ I took it at 17_s._ -6_d._, and paid him every farthing. That just kept him out of the -house, but he died soon after. - -“Yes, I’ve been a sweep ever since. I’ve had to shift as well as I -could. I don’t know that I’m what you call a Nuller, or a Querier. -Well, if I’m asked if I’m anybody’s man, I don’t like to say ‘no,’ -and I don’t like to say ‘yes;’ so I says nothing if I can help it. -Yes, I call at houses to ask if anything’s wanted. I’ve got a job that -way sometimes. If they took me for anybody’s man, I can’t help that. -I lodge with another sweep which is better off nor I am, and pay him -2_s._ 9_d._ a week for a little stair-head place with a bed in it. -I think I clear 7_s._ a week, one week with another, but that’s the -outside. I never go to church or chapel. I’ve never got into the way -of it. Besides, I wouldn’t be let in, I s’pose, in my togs. I’ve only -myself. I can’t say I much like what I’m doing, but what can a poor man -do?” - -[Illustration: THE SWEEPS’ HOME. - -(_From a sketch taken on the spot._)] - - -OF THE FIRES OF LONDON. - -Connected with the subject of chimney sweeping is one which attracts -far less of the attention of the legislature and the public than its -importance would seem to demand: I mean the fires in the metropolis, -with their long train of calamities, such as the loss of life and -of property. These calamities, too, especially as regards the loss -of property, are almost all endured by the poor, the destruction of -whose furniture is often the destruction of their whole property, as -insurances are rarely effected by them; while the wealthier classes, in -the case of fires, are not exposed to the evils of houselessness, and -may be actually gainers by the conflagration, through the sum for which -the property was insured. - -“The daily occurrence of fires in the metropolis,” say the Board -of Health, “their extent, the number of persons who perish by -them, the enormous loss of property they occasion, the prevalence -of incendiarism, the apparent apathy with which such calamities -are regarded, and the rapidity with which they are forgotten, will -hereafter be referred to as evidence of a very low social condition -and defective administrative organization. These fires, it was shown -nearly a century ago, when the subject of insurance was debated in -Parliament, were frequently caused from not having chimneys swept -in proper time.” I am informed that a chimney may be on fire for many -days, unknown to the inmates of the house, and finally break out in -the body of the building by its getting into contact with some beam or -wood-work. The recent burning of Limehouse Church was occasioned by the -soot collected in the flue taking fire, and becoming red hot, when it -ignited the wood-work in the roof. The flue, or pipe, was of iron. - -From a return made by Mr. Braidwood of the houses and properties -destroyed in the metropolis in the three years ending in 1849 -inclusive, it appears that the total number was 1111: of contents -destroyed (which, being generally insured separately, should be kept -distinct) there were 1013. The subjoined table gives the particulars as -to the proportion insured and uninsured:-- - - -------------+---------+----------+------ - -- | Insured.|Uninsured.|Total. - -------------+---------+----------+------ - Houses | 914 | 197 | 1111 - Contents | 609 | 404 | 1013 - -------------+---------+----------+------ - | 1523 | 601 | 2124 - -------------+---------+----------+------ - -“The proportion per cent. of the uninsured to the insured, would be-- - - --------+----+---------+----------+------ - -- | | Insured.|Uninsured.|Total. - --------+----+---------+----------+------ - | |Per Cent.| Per Cent.| - Houses |1111| 82·3 | 17·7 | 100 - Contents|1013| 60·1 | 39·9 | 100 - --------+----+---------+----------+------ - |2124| 71·7 | 28·3 | 100 - --------+----+---------+----------+------ - -The following table gives the total number of fires in the metropolis -during a series of years: - - -ABSTRACT OF CAUSES OF FIRE IN THE METROPOLIS, FROM 1833 to 1849, -INCLUSIVE. - -COMPILED BY W. BADDELEY. - - |1833|1834|1835|1836|1837|1838|1839 - ----------------------|----|----|----|----|----|----|---- - Accidents of various | | | | | | | - kinds, for the most | | | | | | | - part unavoidable | 83| 40| 14| 13| 17| 36| 25 - Apparel ignited | | | | | | | - on the person | .. | .. | .. | 7| 7| 5| 3 - Candles, various | | | | | | | - accidents with | 56| 146| 110| 157| 125| 132| 128 - Carelessness, palpable| | | | | | | - instances of | 28| .. | 19| 18| 7| 17| 14 - Children playing | | | | | | | - with fire or candles| .. | .. | 5| 6| 18| 5| 12 - Drunkenness | .. | 2| 3| .. | 2| 4| 6 - Fire-heat, application| | | | | | | - of, to various | | | | | | | - hazardous | | | | | | | - manufacturing | | | | | | | - processes | 31| 24| 39| 34| 22| 40| 26 - Fire-sparks | .. | .. | .. | 7| 10| 12| 9 - Fire-works | .. | .. | 3| .. | 5| 3| 5 - Fires kindled on | | | | | | | - hearths and other | | | | | | | - improper places | 7| .. | 9| 5| 5| 15| 8 - Flues, foul, | | | | | | | - defective, &c. | 71| 65| 69| 72| 53| 58| 58 - Fumigation, incautious| .. | 3| 7| 5| 2| 1| 5 - Furnaces, kilns, | | | | | | | - &c., defective or | | | | | | | - over-heated | .. | 11| 2| 9| 12| 15| 20 - Gas | 20| 25| 39| 38| 31| 42| 72 - Gunpowder | 3| 3| .. | 1| 3| 1| 2 - Hearths, defective, | | | | | | | - &c. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. - Hot cinders put | | | | | | | - away | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. - Lamps | .. | .. | .. | 2| 3| 9| 4 - Lime, slaking of | .. | 3| 4| 3| .. | 4| 2 - Linen, drying, | | | | | | | - airing, &c. | .. | .. | 22| 31| 48| 32| 26 - Lucifer-matches | .. | .. | .. | .. | 8| 9| 17 - Ovens | 6| .. | .. | 6| 3| 11| 4 - Reading, working, | | | | | | | - or smoking | | | | | | | - in bed | .. | 3| .. | .. | .. | 1| 2 - Shavings, loose, | | | | | | | - ignited | .. | 6| 9| 13| 8| 17| 8 - Spontaneous combustion| 7| 2| 5| 4| 4| 5| 13 - Stoves, defective, | | | | | | | - over-heated, &c. | 18| 20| 11| 28| 36| 31| 24 - Tobacco smoking | .. | 6| 4| 1| 3| 4| 11 - Suspicious | .. | .. | .. | .. | 7| 8| 6 - Wilful | 3| 9| 6| 8| 5| 6| 7 - Unknown | 125| 114| 91| 96| 57| 45| 67 - - |1840|1841|1842|1843|1844|1845|1846 - ----------------------|----|----|----|----|----|----|---- - Accidents of various | | | | | | | - kinds, for the most | | | | | | | - part unavoidable | 26| 26| 44| 19| 11| 17| 29 - Apparel ignited | | | | | | | - on the person | 12| 5| 9| 5| 4| 3| 3 - Candles, various | | | | | | | - accidents with | 169| 184| 189| 166| 205| 165| 229 - Carelessness, palpable| | | | | | | - instances of | 24| 25| 19| 27| 15| 14| 15 - Children playing | | | | | | | - with fire or candles| 21| 18| 16| 20| 23| 19| 25 - Drunkenness | 5| 5| 11| 6| 9| 7| 9 - Fire-heat, application| | | | | | | - of, to various | | | | | | | - hazardous | | | | | | | - manufacturing | | | | | | | - processes | 29| 16| 36| 14| 21| 22| 25 - Fire-sparks | 17| 13| 23| 17| 27| 24| 32 - Fire-works | 1| 4| 7| 5| 3| 10| 9 - Fires kindled on | | | | | | | - hearths and other | | | | | | | - improper places | 7| 8| 9| 9| 8| 12| 7 - Flues, foul, | | | | | | | - defective, &c. | 89| 83| 90| 105| 84| 78| 86 - Fumigation, incautious| 3| 2| 2| 1| 1| 3| 4 - Furnaces, kilns, | | | | | | | - &c., defective or | | | | | | | - over-heated | 15| 12| 23| 19| 17| 29| 28 - Gas | 48| 48| 52| 40| 33| 54| 53 - Gunpowder | .. | .. | 3| 1| .. | 1| .. - Hearths, defective, | | | | | | | - &c. | .. | .. | 3| 5| 2| .. | 4 - Hot cinders put | | | | | | | - away | .. | .. | 3| 3| 7| 10| 8 - Lamps | 3| 5| 2| 2| 6| 11| 7 - Lime, slaking of | 2| 5| 4| 2| 3| 9| 7 - Linen, drying, | | | | | | | - airing, &c. | 25| 27| 41| 33| 45| 30| 39 - Lucifer-matches | 18| 16| 17| 14| 19| 12| 14 - Ovens | 13| 13| 13| 10| 10| 8| 8 - Reading, working, | | | | | | | - or smoking | | | | | | | - in bed | .. | 5| 2| 3| .. | .. | 3 - Shavings, loose, | | | | | | | - ignited | 27| 35| 22| 31| 18| 25| 35 - Spontaneous combustion| 11| 22| 20| 23| 34| 19| 18 - Stoves, defective, | | | | | | | - over-heated, &c. | 48| 54| 32| 58| 44| 51| 43 - Tobacco smoking | 9| 22| 17| 14| 21| 19| 29 - Suspicious | 11| 7| 9| 16| 7| 9| 7 - Wilful | 9| 13| 19| 21| 11| 14| 19 - Unknown | 39| 23| 32| 60| 74| 32| 39 - - |1847|1848|1849|Total.|Average - ----------------------|----|----|----|------|------- - Accidents of various | | | | | - kinds, for the most | | | | | - part unavoidable | 20| 19| 13| 452 | 27 - Apparel ignited | | | | | - on the person | 3| 1| 2| 69 | 4 - Candles, various | | | | | - accidents with | 237| 237| 241| 2876 |169 - Carelessness, palpable| | | | | - instances of | 20| 23| 24| 309 | 18 - Children playing | | | | | - with fire or candles| 16| 19| 15| 238 | 14 - Drunkenness | 5| 3| 7| 84 | 5 - Fire-heat, application| | | | | - of, to various | | | | | - hazardous | | | | | - manufacturing | | | | | - processes | 16| 22| 23| 440 | 26 - Fire-sparks | 65| 63| 40| 359 | 21 - Fire-works | 6| 1| 8| 70 | 4 - Fires kindled on | | | | | - hearths and other | | | | | - improper places | 3| 4| 4| 120 | 7 - Flues, foul, | | | | | - defective, &c. | 78| 56| 78| 1273 | 75 - Fumigation, incautious| 4| 4| 2| 49 | 3 - Furnaces, kilns, | | | | | - &c., defective or | | | | | - over-heated | 14| 16| 21| 263 | 16 - Gas | 63| 65| 57| 780 | 46 - Gunpowder | 2| .. | 2| 22 | 1-1/5 - Hearths, defective, | | | | | - &c. | 3| 4| 3| 24 | 1-1/2 - Hot cinders put | | | | | - away | 9| 5| 11| 56 | 3 - Lamps | 2| 3| 17| 76 | 5 - Lime, slaking of | 5| 5| 3| 61 | 4 - Linen, drying, | | | | | - airing, &c. | 34| 36| 40| 509 | 30 - Lucifer-matches | 9| 23| 12| 188 | 11 - Ovens | 8| 2| 2| 117 | 7 - Reading, working, | | | | | - or smoking | | | | | - in bed | 1| 1| 1| 22 | 1-1/3 - Shavings, loose, | | | | | - ignited | 37| 27| 21| 339 | 20 - Spontaneous combustion| 15| 7| 19| 228 | 13 - Stoves, defective, | | | | | - over-heated, &c. | 37| 48| 43| 626 | 37 - Tobacco smoking | 18| 37| 24| 239 | 14 - Suspicious | 17| 11| 10| 125 | 7 - Wilful | 17| 25| 19| 211 | 12 - Unknown | 72| 38| 76| 1080 | 63 - -Here, then, we perceive that there are, upon an average of 17 years, -no less than 770 “fires” per annum, that is to say, 29 houses in every -10,000 are discovered to be on fire every year; and about one-fourth -of these are uninsured. In the year 1833 the total number of fires was -only 458, or 20 in every 10,000 inhabited houses, whilst, in 1849, the -number had gradually progressed to 838, or 28 in every 10,000 houses. - -We have here, however, to deal more particularly with the causes of -these fires, of which the following table gives the result of many -years’ valuable experience:-- - - -TABULAR EPITOME OF METROPOLITAN FIRES, FROM 1833 to 1849. - -BY W. BADDELEY, 29, ALFRED STREET, ISLINGTON. - - --------------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+---- - |1833|1834|1835|1836|1837|1838|1839|1840|1841|1842|1843 - --------------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+---- - Slightly damaged | 292| 338| 315| 397| 357| 383| 402| 451| 438| 521| 489 - Seriously damaged | 135| 116| 125| 134| 122| 152| 165| 204| 34| 224| 231 - Totally destroyed | 31| 28| 31| 33| 22| 33| 17| 26| 24| 24| 29 - Total No. of Fires | 458| 482| 471| 564| 501| 568| 584| 681| 696| 769| 749 - False Alarms | 59| 63| 66| 66| 89| 80| 70| 84| 67| 61| 79 - Alarms from | | | | | | | | | | | - Chimneys on Fire | 75| 106| 106| 126| 127| 107| 101| 98| 92| 82| 83 - Total No. of Calls | 592| 651| 643| 756| 717| 755| 755| 863| 855| 912| 911 - Insuran. on Building| | | | | | | | | | | - and Contents | .. | .. | .. | 169| 173| 161| 169| 237| 343| 321| 276 - Insurances on | | | | | | | | | | | - Building only | .. | .. | .. | 73| 47| 59| 58| 92| 149| 116| 124 - Insurances on | | | | | | | | | | | - Contents only | .. | .. | .. | 104| 76| 128| 115| 104| 52| 112| 107 - Uninsured | .. | .. | .. | 218| 205| 220| 242| 248| 152| 220| 242 - --------------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+---- - - --------------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+------+------- - |1844|1845|1846|1847|1848|1849|Total.|Average - --------------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+------+------- - Slightly damaged | 502| 431| 576| 536| 509| 582| 6,574| 470 - Seriously damaged | 237| 244| 238| 273| 269| 228| 2,955| 211 - Totally destroyed | 23| 32| 20| 27| 27| 28| 365| 26 - Total No. of Fires | 762| 707| 834| 836| 805| 838| 9,894| 770 - False Alarms | 70| 81| 119| 88| 120| 76| 1,150| 82 - Alarms from | | | | | | | | - Chimneys on Fire | 94| 87| 69| 66| 86| 89| 1,307| 94 - Total No. of Calls | 926| 875|1022| 990|1011|1003|12,351| 882 - Insuran. on Building| | | | | | | | - and Contents | 313| 313| 302| 263| 310| 368| 3,718| 266 - Insurances on | | | | | | | | - Building only | 138| 107| 137| 125| 120| 163| 1,508| 108 - Insurances on | | | | | | | | - Contents only | 94| 73| 125| 157| 134| 72| 1,453| 104 - Uninsured | 217| 214| 270| 291| 241| 235| 3,215| 230 - --------------------+----+----+----+-----+---+----+------+------- - -Thus we perceive that, out of an average of 665 fires per annum, the -information being derived from 17 years’ experience, the following were -the number of fires produced by different causes:-- - - Average No. of Fires per Annum. - Candles, various accidents with 169 - Flues, foul, defective, &c. 75 - Unknown 63 - Gas 46 - Stoves over-heated 37 - Linen, drying, airing, &c. 30 - Accidents of various kinds, for the most part unavoidable 27 - Fire heat, application of, to various hazardous manufacturing processes 26 - Fire sparks 21 - Shavings, loose, ignited 20 - Carelessness, palpable instances of 18 - Furnaces, kilns, &c., defective or over-heated 16 - Children playing with fire or candles 14 - Tobacco smoking 14 - Spontaneous combustion 13 - Wilful 12 - Lucifer-matches 11 - Ovens 7 - Fires, kindled on hearths and other improper places 7 - Suspicious 7 - Lamps 5 - Drunkenness 5 - Lime, slaking of 4 - Apparel, ignited on the person 4 - Fireworks 4 - Hot cinders put away 3 - Incautious fumigation 3 - Reading, working, or smoking in bed 1·33 - Hearths defective 1·25 - ------ - 665 - -Here, then, we find that while the greatest proportion of fires are -caused by accidents with candles, about one-ninth of the fires above -mentioned arise from foul flues, or 75 out of 665, a circumstance which -teaches us the usefulness of the class of labourers of whom we have -been lately treating. - -It would seem that a much larger proportion of the fires are wilfully -produced than appear in the above table. - -The Board of Health, in speaking of incendiarism in connection with -insurance, report:-- - -“Inquiries connected with measures for the improvement of the -population have developed the operation of insurances, in -engendering crimes and calamities; negatively, by weakening natural -responsibilities and motives to care and forethought; positively, by -temptations held out to the commission of crime in the facility with -which insurance money is usually obtainable. - -“The _steady increase_ in the number of fires in the metropolis, whilst -our advance in the arts gives means for their diminution, is ascribable -mainly to the operation of these two causes, and to the division and -weakening of administrative authority. From information on which we -can rely, we feel assured that the crime of incendiarism for the sake -of insurance money exists to a far greater extent than the public are -aware of.” - -Mr. Braidwood has expressed his opinion that only one-half of the -property in the metropolis is insured, not as to numbers of property, -but as to value; but the proportion of insured and uninsured houses -could not be ascertained. - -Mr. Baddeley, the inspector to the Society for the Protection of Life -from Fire, who had given attention to the subject for the last 30 -years, gave the Board the following account of the increase of fires:-- - - ------------------+-----------+----------+---------- - | | |Proportion - | Fires per | Of which | per Cent. - | Annum of | were |of Insured - |Houses and | Totally |Houses and - |Properties.|Uninsured.|Properties - | | | Burnt. - ------------------+-----------+----------+---------- - In the first seven| | | - years there were | | | - on an average | 623 | 215 | 65·15 - | | | - In the second | | | - seven years | 790 | 244 | 69·3 - ------------------+-----------+----------+---------- - -During this period there has been a great increase in the number of -dwellings, but this has been chiefly in suburban places, where fires -rarely occur. - -“The frequency of fires,” it is further stated, “led Mr. Payne, the -coroner of the City of London, to revive the exercise of the coroner’s -function of inquiring into the causes of fires; most usefully. Out -of 58 inquests held by him (in the City of London and the borough of -Southwark, which comprise only one-eighteenth of the houses of the -metropolis) since 1845, it appears that, 8 were proved to be wilful; 27 -apparently accidental; and 23 from causes unknown, including suspicious -causes. The proportion of ascertained wilful fires was, therefore, 23 -per cent.; which gives strong confirmation to the indications presented -by the statistical returns as to the excess of insured property burnt -above uninsured.” - -The at once mean and reckless criminality of arson, by which a man -exposes his neighbours to the risk of a dreadful death, which he -himself takes measures to avoid, has long, and on many occasions, gone -unpunished in London. The insurance companies, when a demand is made -upon them for a loss through fire, institute an inquiry, carried on -quietly by their own people. The claimant is informed, if sufficient -reasons for such a step appear, that from suspicious circumstances, -which had come to the knowledge of the company, the demand would not -be complied with, and that the company would resist any action for -the recovery of the money. The criminal becomes alarmed, he is afraid -of committing himself, and so the matter drops, and the insurance -companies, not being required to pay the indemnification, are satisfied -to save their money, and let the incendiarism remain unnoticed or -unpunished. Mr. Payne, the coroner, has on some occasions strongly -commented on this practice as one which showed the want of a public -prosecutor. - - * * * * * - -A few words as regards the means of extinction and help at fires. - -Upwards of two years ago the Commissioners of Police instructed their -officers to note the time which elapsed between the earliest alarm -of fire and the arrival of the first engine. Seventeen fires were -noted, and the average duration of time before the fire-brigade or any -parochial or local fire-engine, reached the spot, was 36 minutes. Two -or three of these fires were in the suburbs; so that in this crowded -city, so densely packed with houses and people, fifteen fires raged -unchecked for more than half-an-hour. - -There are in the metropolis, not including the more distant suburbs, -150 public fire stations, with engines provided under the management of -the parochial authorities. The fire-brigade has but seventeen stations -on land, and two on the river, which are, indeed, floating engines, one -being usually moored near Southwark-bridge, the other having no stated -place, being changed in its locality, as may be considered best. In the -course of three years, the term of the official inquiry, the engines -of the fire-brigade reached on the average the place where a fire was -raging _thirty-five_ times as the earliest means of assistance, when -the parochial engines did the same only in the proportion of _two_ to -the thirty-five. - -Mr. Braidwood, the director of the fire-brigade, stated, when -questioned on the subject with a view to a report to be laid before -Parliament, that “the average time of an engine turning out with horses -was from three to seven minutes.” The engines are driven at the rate of -ten miles an hour along the streets, which, in the old coaching days, -was considered the “best royal mail pace.” Indeed, there have been -frequent complaints of the rapidity with which the fire-engines are -driven, and if the drivers were not skilful and alert, it would really -amount to recklessness. - -“Information of the breaking out of a fire,” it is stated in the -report, “will be conveyed to the station of the brigade at the rate of -about five miles an hour: thus in the case of the occurrence of a fire -within a mile of the station, the intelligence may be conveyed to the -station in about twelve minutes; the horses will be put to, and the -engine got out into the street in about five minutes on the average; it -traverses the mile in about six minutes; and the water has to be got -into the engine, which will occupy about five minutes, making, under -the most favourable circumstances for such a distance, 28 minutes, or -for a half-mile distance, an average of not less than 20 minutes.” - -The average distance of the occurring fires from a brigade station -were, however, during a period of three years, terminating in 1850, -upwards of a mile. One was five miles, several four miles, more were -two miles, and a mile and a half, while the most destructive fires -were at an average distance of a mile and three quarters. Thus it was -impossible for a fire-brigade to give assistance as soon as assistance -was needed, and, under other circumstances, might have been rendered. -And all this damage may and does very often result from what seems so -trifling a neglect as the non-sweeping of a chimney. - -Mr. W. Baddeley, an engineer, and a high authority on this subject, has -stated that he had attended fires for 30 years in London, and that, of -838 fires which took place in 1849, two-thirds might have been easily -extinguished had there been an immediate application of water. In some -places, he said, delay originated from the turn-cocks being at wide -intervals, and some of the companies objecting to let any but their -own servants have the command of the main-cocks. - -The Board of Health have recommended the formation of a series of -street-water plugs within short distances of each other, the water to -be constantly on at high pressure night and day, and the whole to be -under the charge of a trained body of men such as compose the present -fire-brigade, provided at appointed stations with every necessary -appliance in the way of hose, pipes, ladders, &c. “The hose should be -within the reach,” it is urged in the report, “fixed, and applied on -an average of not more than five minutes from the time of the alarm -being given; that is to say, in less than one-fourth of the time within -which fire-engines are brought to bear under existing arrangements, -and with a still greater proportionate diminution of risks and serious -accidents.” - -Nor is this mode of extinguishing fires a mere experiment. It is -successfully practised in some of the American cities, Philadelphia -among the number, and in some of our own manufacturing towns. Mr. -Emmott, the engineer and manager of the Oldham Water-works, has -described the practice in that town on the occurrence of fires:-- - -“In five cases out of six, the hose is pushed into a water-plug, and -the water thrown upon a building on fire, for the average pressure of -water in this town is 146 feet; by this means our fires are generally -extinguished even before the heavy engine arrives at the spot. The hose -is much preferred to the engine, on account of the speed with which it -is applied, and the readiness with which it is used, for one man can -manage a hose, and throw as much water on the building on fire as an -engine worked by many men. On this account we very rarely indeed use -the engines, as they possess no advantage whatever over the hose.” - -When the city of Hamburgh was rebuilt two or three years back, after -its destruction by fire, it was rebuilt chiefly under the direction -of Mr. W. Lindley, the engineer, and, as far as Mr. Lindley could -accomplish, on sanitary principles, such as the abolition of cesspools. -The arrangements for the surface cleansing of the streets by means -of the hose and jet and the water-plugs, are made available for the -extinction of fires, and with the following results, as communicated by -Mr. Lindley:-- - -“Have there been fires in buildings in Hamburgh in the portion of the -town rebuilt?--Yes, repeatedly. They have all, however, been put out -at once. If they had had to wait the usual time for engines and water, -say 20 minutes or half an hour, these might all have led to extensive -conflagrations. - -“What has been the effect on insurance?--The effect of the rapid -extinction of fires has brought to light to the citizens of Hamburgh, -the fact that the greater proportion of their fires are the work of -incendiaries, for the sake of the insurance money. A person is absent; -smoke is seen to exude; the alarm of fire is given, and the door is -forced open, the jet applied, and the fire extinguished immediately. -Case after case has occurred, where, upon the fire being extinguished, -the arrangements for the spread of the fire are found and made -manifest. Several of this class of incendiaries for the insurance -money are now in prison. The saving of money alone, by the prevention -of fires, would be worth the whole expense of the like arrangement -in London, where it is well known that similar practices prevail -extensively.” - -The following statement was given by Mr. Quick, an engineer, on this -subject:-- - -“After the destruction of the terminus of the South Western Railway by -fire, I recommended them to have a 9-inch main, with 3-inch outlets -leading to six stand-pipes, with joining screws for hose-pipes to -be attached, and that they should carry a 3-inch pipe of the same -description up into each floor, so that a hose might be attached in any -room where the fire commenced. - -“In how many minutes may the hose be attached?--There is only the time -of attaching the hose, which need be nothing like a minute. I have -indeed recommended that a short length of hose with a short nozzle or -branch should be kept attached to the cock, so that the cock has only -to be turned, which is done in an instant. - -“It appears that fire-engines require 26 men to work each engine of two -7 inch barrels, to produce a jet of about 50 feet high. The arrangement -carried out, at your recommendation, with six jets, is equivalent to -keeping six such engines, and the power of 156 men, in readiness to -act at all times, night and day, at about a minute’s notice, for the -extinction of fires?--It will give a power more than equal to that -number of men; for the jets given off from a 20-inch main will be much -more regular and powerful, and will deliver more water than could be -delivered by any engine. The jets at that place would be 70 feet high.” - -The system of roof-cisterns, which was at one time popular as a means -of extinction, has been found, it appears, on account of their leakage -and diffusion of damp, to be but sorry contrivances, and have very -generally been discontinued. Mr. Holme, a builder in Liverpool, gives -the following, even under the circumstances, amusing account of a fire -where such a cistern was provided:-- - -“The owner of a cotton kiln, which had been repeatedly burnt, took it -into his head to erect a large tank in the roof. His idea was, that -when a fire occurred, they should have water at hand; and when the -fire ascended, it would burn the wooden tank, and the whole of the -contents being discharged on the fire like a cataract, it would at -once extinguish it. Well, the kiln again took fire; the smoke was so -suffocating, that nobody could get at the internal pipe, and the whole -building was again destroyed. But what became of the tank? It could not -burn, because it was filled with water; consequently, it boiled most -admirably. No hole was singed in its side or bottom; it looked very -picturesque, but it was utterly useless.” - -The necessity of almost immediate help is shown in the following -statement by Mr. Braidwood, when consulted on the subject of -fire-escapes, which under the present system are not considered -sufficiently effective:-- - -“Taking London to be six miles long and three miles broad, to have -anything like an efficient system of fire-escapes, it would be -necessary to have one with a man to attend it within a quarter of a -mile of each house, as assistance, to be _of any use, must generally -be rendered within five minutes after the alarm is given_. To do this -the stations must be within a quarter of a mile of each other (as the -escapes must be taken round the angles of the streets): 253 stations -would thus be required and as many men. - -“At present scaling ladders are kept at all the engine stations, and -canvas sheets also at some of them; several lives have been saved by -them; but the distance of the stations from each other renders them -applicable only in a limited number of instances.” - -The engines of the fire-brigade throw up about 90 gallons a minute. -Their number is about 100. The cost of a fire-engine is from 60_l._ to -100_l._, and the hose, buckets, and general apparatus, cost nearly the -same amount. - - -OF THE SEWERMEN AND NIGHTMEN OF LONDON. - -We now come to the consideration of the last of the several classes -of labourers engaged in the removal of the species of refuse from -the metropolis. I have before said that the public refuse of a town -consists of two kinds:-- - - I. The street-refuse. - II. The house-refuse. - -Of each of these kinds there are two species:-- - - A. The dry. - B. The wet. - -The dry street-refuse consists, as we have seen, of the refuse earth, -bricks, mortar, oyster-shells, potsherds, and pansherds. - -And the dry house-refuse of the soot and ashes of our fires. - -The wet street-refuse consists, on the other hand, of the mud, slop, -and surface water of our public thoroughfares. - -And the wet house-refuse, of what is familiarly known as the “slops” -of our residences, and the liquid refuse of our factories and -slaughterhouses. - -We have already collected the facts in connection with the three first -of these subjects. We have ascertained the total amount of each of -these species of refuse which have to be annually removed from the -capital. We have set forth the aggregate number of labourers who are -engaged in the removal of it, as well as the gross sum that is paid -for so doing, showing the individual earnings of each of the workmen, -and arriving, as near as possible, at the profits of their employers, -as well as the condition of the employed. This has been done, it is -believed, for the first time in this country; and if the subject has -led us into longer discussions than usual, the importance of the -matter, considered in a sanitary point of view, is such that a moment’s -reflection will convince us of the value of the inquiry--especially -in connection with a work which aspires to embrace the whole of the -offices performed by the labourers of the capital of the British Empire. - -It now but remains for us to complete this novel and vast inquiry by -settling the condition and earnings of the men engaged in the removal -of the last species of public refuse. I shall consider, first, the -aggregate quantity of wet house-refuse that has to be annually removed; -secondly, the means adopted for the removal of it; thirdly, the cost of -so doing; and lastly, the number of men engaged in this kind of work, -as well as the wages paid to them, and the physical, intellectual, and -moral condition in which they exist, or, more properly speaking, are -allowed to remain. - -OF THE WET HOUSE-REFUSE OF LONDON. - -All house-refuse of a liquid or semi-liquid character is _wet_ refuse. -It may be called semi-liquid when it has become mingled with any -solid substance, though not so fully as to have lost its property of -fluidity, its natural power to flow along a suitable inclination. - -Wet house-refuse consists of the “slops” of a household. It consists, -indeed, of _all_ waste water, whether from the supply of the water -companies, or from the rain-fall collected on the roofs or yards of the -houses; of the “suds” of the washerwomen, and the water used in every -department of scouring, cleansing, or cooking. It consists, moreover, -of the refuse proceeds from the several factories, dye-houses, &c.; of -the blood and other refuse (not devoted to Prussian blue manufacture or -sugar refining) from the butchers’ slaughter-houses and the knackers’ -(horse slaughterers’) yards; as well as the refuse fluid from all -chemical processes, quantities of chemically impregnated water, for -example, being pumped, as soon as exhausted, from the tan-pits of -Bermondsey into the drains and sewers. From the great hat-manufactories -(chiefly also in Bermondsey and other parts of the Borough) there is a -constant flow of water mixed with dyes and other substances, to add to -the wet refuse of London. - -It is evident, then, that _all_ the water consumed or wasted in the -metropolis must form a portion of the total sum of the wet refuse. - -There is, however, the exception of what is used for the watering -of gardens, which is absorbed at once by the soil and its vegetable -products; we must also exclude such portion of water as is applied to -the laying of the road and street dust on dry summer days, and which -forms a part of the street mud or “mac” of the scavager’s cart, rather -than of the sewerage; and we must further deduct the water derived from -the street plugs for the supply of the fire-engines, which is consumed -or absorbed in the extinction of the flames; as well as the water -required for the victualling of ships on the eve of a voyage, when -such supply is not derived immediately from the Thames. - -The quantity of water required for the diet, or beverage, or general -use of the population; the quantity consumed by the maltsters, -distillers, brewers, ginger-beer and soda-water makers, and -manufacturing chemists; for the making of tea, coffee, or cocoa; and -for drinking at meals (which is often derived from pumps, and not -from the supplies of the water companies);--the water which is thus -consumed, in a prepared or in a simple state, passes into the wet -refuse of the metropolis in another form. - -Now, according to reports submitted to Parliament when an improved -system of water-supply was under consideration, the daily supply of -water to the metropolis is as follows:-- - - Gallons. - From the Water Companies 44,383,329 - „ „ Artesian Wells 8,000,000 - „ „ land spring pumps 3,000,000 - ---------- - 55,383,329 - -The yearly rain-fall throughout the area of the metropolis is -172,053,477 tons, or 33,589,972,120 gallons, 2 feet deep of rain -falling on every square inch of London in the course of the year. The -yearly total of the water pumped or falling into the metropolis is as -follows:-- - - Gallons. - Yearly mechanical supply 19,215,000,000 - „ natural ditto 38,539,972,122 - -------------- - 57,754,972,122 - -The reader will find the details of this subject at p. 203 of the -present volume. I recapitulate the results here to save the trouble of -reference, and briefly to present the question under one head. - -Of course the rain which ultimately forms a portion of the gross -wet refuse of London, can be only such as falls on that part of the -metropolitan area which is occupied by buildings or streets. What falls -upon fields, gardens, and all open ground, is absorbed by the soil. -But a large proportion of the rain falling upon the streets, is either -absorbed by the dry dust, or retained in the form of mud; hence that -only which falls on the house-tops and yards can be said to contribute -largely to the gross quantity of wet refuse poured into the sewers. The -streets of London appear to occupy one-tenth of the entire metropolitan -area, and the houses (estimating 300,000 as occupying upon an average -100 square yards each[62]) another tithe of the surface. The remaining -92 square miles out of the 115 now included in the Registrar-General’s -limits (which extend, it should be remembered, to Wandsworth, Lewisham, -Bow, and Hampstead), may be said to be made up of suburban gardens, -fields, parks, &c., where the rain-water would soak into the earth. We -have, then, only two-tenths of the gross rain-fall, or 7,700,000,000 -gallons, that could possibly appear in the sewers, and calculating -one-third of this to be absorbed by the mud and dust of the streets, we -come to the conclusion that the total quantity of rain-water entering -the sewers is, in round numbers, 5,000,000,000 gallons per annum. - -Reckoning, therefore, 5,000,000,000 gallons to be derived from the -annual rain-fall, it appears that the yearly supply of water, from all -sources, to be accounted for among the wet house-refuse is, in round -numbers, 24,000,000,000 gallons. - -The refuse water from the factories need not be calculated separately, -as its supply is included in the water mechanically supplied, and the -loss from evaporation in boiling, &c., would be perfectly insignificant -if deducted from the vast annual supply, but 350,000,000 gallons have -been allowed for this and other losses. - -There is still another source of the supply of wet house-refuse -unconnected either with the rain-fall or the mechanical supply of -water--I mean such proportion of the blood or other refuse from the -butchers’ and knackers’ premises as is washed into the sewers. - -Official returns show that the yearly quantity of animals sold in -Smithfield is-- - - Horned cattle 224,000 - Sheep 1,550,000 - Calves 27,300 - Pigs 40,000 - --------- - 1,841,300 - -The blood flowing from a slaughtered bullock, whether killed according -to the Christian or the Jewish fashion, amounts, on an average, to -20 quarts; from a sheep, to 6 or 7 quarts; from a pig, 5 quarts; and -the same quantity from a calf. The blood from a horse slaughtered in -a knackers’ yard is about the same as that from a bullock. This blood -used to bring far higher prices to the butcher than can be now realized. - -In the evidence taken by a Select Committee of the House of Commons -in 1849, concerning Smithfield-market, Mr. Wyld, of the Fox and -Knot-yard, Smithfield, stated that he slaughtered about 180 cattle -weekly. “We have a sort of well made in the slaughterhouse,” he said, -“which receives the blood. I receive about 1l. a week for it; it goes -twice a day to Mr. Ton’s, at Bow Common. We used to receive a good -deal more for it.” Even the market for blood at Mr. Ton’s, is, I am -informed, now done away with. He was a manufacturer of artificial -manure, a preparation of night-soil, blood, &c., baked in what may be -called “cakes,” and exported chiefly to our sugar-growing colonies, for -manure. His manure yard has been suppressed. - -I am assured, on the authority of experienced butchers, that at -the present time fully three-fourths of the blood from the animals -slaughtered in London becomes a component part of the wet refuse -I treat of, being washed into the sewers. The more wholesale -slaughterers, now that blood is of little value (9 gallons in -Whitechapel-market, the blood of two beasts--less by a gallon--can be -bought for 3_d._), send this animal refuse down the drains of their -premises in far greater quantities than was formerly their custom. - -Now, reckoning only three-fourths of the blood from the cattle -slaughtered in the metropolis, to find its way into the sewers, we -have, according to the numbers above given, the following yearly -supply:-- - - Gallons. - From horned cattle 840,000 - „ sheep 1,743,000 - „ pigs 37,500 - „ calves 25,590 - --------- - 2,646,090 - -This is merely the blood from the animals sold in Smithfield-market, -the lambs not being included in the return; while a great many pigs and -calves are slaughtered by the London tradesmen, without their having -been shown in Smithfield. - -The ordure from a slaughtered bullock is, on an average, from 1/2 to -3/4 cwt. Many beasts yield one cwt.; and cows “killed full of grass,” -as much as two cwt. Of this excrementitious matter, I am informed, -about a fourth part is washed into the sewers. In sheep, calves, and -pigs, however, there is very little ordure when slaughtered, only 3 or -4 lbs. in each as an average. - -Of the number of horses killed there is no official or published -account. One man familiar with the subject calculated it at 100 weekly. -_All_ the blood from the knackers’ yards is, I am told, washed into the -sewers; consequently its yearly amount will be 26,000 gallons. - -But even this is not the whole of the wet house-refuse of London. - -There are, in addition, the excreta of the inhabitants of the houses. -These are said to average 1/4 lb. daily per head, including men, women, -and children. - -It is estimated by Bousingault, and confirmed by Liebig, that each -individual produces 1/4 lb. of solid excrement and 1-1/4 lb. of -liquid excrement per day, making 1-1/2 lb. each, or 150 lbs. per 100 -individuals, of semi-liquid refuse from the water-closet. “But,” says -the Surveyor of the Metropolitan Commission of Sewers, “there is other -refuse resulting from culinary operations, to be conveyed through the -drains, and the whole may be about 250 lbs. for 100 persons.” - -The more fluid part of this refuse, however, is included in the -quantity of water before given, so that there remains only the more -solid excrementitious matter to add to the previous total. This, -then, is 1/4 lb. daily and individually; or from the metropolitan -population of nearly 2,500,000 a daily supply of 600,000 lbs., rather -more than 267 tons; and a yearly aggregate for the whole metropolis of -219,000,000 lbs., or very nearly about 100,000 tons. - -From the foregoing account, then, the following is shown to be - - -_The Gross Quantity of the Wet House-Refuse of the Metropolis._ - - Gallons. Lbs. - “Slops” and unabsorbed rain-water 24,000,000,000 = 240,000,000,000 - Blood of beasts 2,646,000 = 26,460,000 - „ horses 26,000 = 260,000 - Excreta 219,000,000 - Dung of slaughtered cattle 17,400,000 - -------------- --------------- - Total 24,002,657,000 = 240,263,120,000 - -Hence we may conclude that the more fluid portion of the wet -house-refuse of London amounts to 24,000,000,000 gallons per annum; -and that altogether it weighs, in round numbers, about 240,000,000,000 -lbs., or 100,000,000 tons. - -As these refuse products are not so much matters of trade or sale as -other commodities, of course less attention has been given to them, -in the commercial attributes of weight and admeasurement. I will -endeavour, however, to present an uniform table of the whole great mass -of metropolitan wet house-refuse in cubic inches. - -The imperial standard gallon is of the capacity of 277·274 cubic -inches; and estimating the solid excrement spoken of as the ordinary -weight of earth, or of the soil of the land, at 18 cubic feet the ton, -we have the following result, calculating in round numbers:-- - - -_Wet House-Refuse of the Metropolis._ - - Liquid 24,000,000,000 gal. = 6,600,000,000,000 cub. in. - Solid 100,000 tons = 3,110,400,000 „ - -Thus, by this process of admeasurement, we find the - - WET HOUSE-REFUSE } = 6,603,110,400,000 cubic in., or - OF LONDON } 3,820,000,000 cubic feet. - -Figures best show the extent of this refuse, “inexpressible” to common -appreciation “by numbers that have name.” - - -OF THE MEANS OF REMOVING THE WET HOUSE-REFUSE. - -Whether this mass of filth be, zymotically, the cause of cholera, -or whether it be (as cannot be questioned) a means of agricultural -fertility, and therefore of national wealth, it _must_ be removed. I -need not dilate, in explaining a necessity which is obvious to every -man with uncorrupted physical senses, and with the common moral sense -of decency. - -“Dr. Paley,” it is said, in a recent Report to the Metropolitan -Commission of Sewers, “gave to Burckhardt and other travellers a set of -instructions as to points of observation of the manners and conditions -of the populations amongst whom they travelled. One of the leading -instructions was to observe how they disposed of their excreta, for -what they did with that showed him what men were; he also inquired what -structure they had to answer the purpose of a privy, and what were -their habits in respect to it. This information Dr. Paley desired, -not for popular use, but for himself, for he was accustomed to say, -that the facts connected with that topic gave him more information -as to the real condition and civilisation of a population than most -persons would be aware of. It would inform him of their real habits of -cleanliness, of real decency, self-respect, and connected moral habits -of high social importance. It would inform him of the real state of -police, and of local administration, and much of the general government. - -“The human ordure which defiles the churches, the bases of public -edifices and works of art in Rome and Naples, and the Italian cities, -gives more sure indications of the real moral and social position of -the Italian population than any impressions derived from the edifices -and works of art themselves. - -“The subject, in relation to which the Jewish lawgiver gave most -particular directions, is one on which the serious attention and labour -of public administrators may be claimed.” - -The next question, is--_How_ is the wet house-refuse to be removed? - -There are two ways:-- - - 1. One is, to transport it to a river, or some powerfully current - stream by a series of ducts. - - 2. The other is, to dig a hole in the neighbourhood of the house, - there collect the wet refuse of the household, and when the hole or - pit becomes full, remove the contents to some other part. - -In London the most obvious means of getting rid of a nuisance is to -convey it into the Thames. Nor has this been done in London only. In -Paris the Seine is the receptacle of the sewage, but, comparatively, to -a much smaller extent than in London. The fæcal deposits accumulated -in the houses of the French capital are drained into “fixed” and -“moveable” cesspools. The contents of both these descriptions of -cesspools (of which I shall give an account when I treat of the -cesspool system) are removed periodically, under the direction of the -government, to large receptacles, called _voiries_, at Montfaucon, and -the Forest of Bondy, where such refuse is made into portable manure. -The evils of this system are not a few; but the river is spared the -greater pollution of the Thames. Neither is the Seine swayed by the -tide as is the Thames, for in London the very sewers are affected by -the tidal influence, and are not to be entered until some time before -or after high-water. I need not do more, for my present inquiry, than -allude to the Liffy, the Clyde, the Humber, and others of the rivers of -the United Kingdom, being used for purposes of sewerage, as channels to -carry off that of which the law prohibits the retention. - -Of the folly, not to say wickedness, of this principle, there can be -no doubt. The vegetation which gives, demands food. The grass will -wither without its fitting nutriment of manure, as the sheep would -perish without the pasturage of the grass. Nature, in temperate and -moist climates, is, so to speak, her own manurer, her own restorer. The -sheep, which are as wild and active as goats, manure the Cumberland -fells in which they feed. In the more cultivated sheep-walks (or, -indeed, in the general pasturage) of the northern and some of the -midland counties, women, with a wooden implement, may be continually -seen in the later autumn, or earlier and milder winter, distributing -the “stercoraceous treasure,” as Cowper calls it, which the animals, to -use the North Yorkshire word, have “dropped,” as well as any extraneous -manure which may have been spread for the purpose. As population and -the demand for bread increase, the need of extraneous manures also -increases; and Nature in her beneficence has provided that the greater -the consumption of food, the greater shall be the promoters of its -reproduction by what is loathsome to man, but demanded by vegetation. -Liebig, as I shall afterwards show more fully, contends that many an -arid and desolate region in the East, brown and burnt with barrenness, -became a desolation because men understood not the restoration which -all nature demands for the land. He declares that the now desolate -regions of the East had been made desolate, because “the inhabitants -did not understand the art of restoring exhausted soil.” It would be -hopeless now to form, or attempt to form, the “hanging gardens,” or to -display the rich florescence “round about Babylon,” to be seen when -Alexander the Great died in that city. The Tigris and Euphrates, before -and after their junction, Liebig maintains, have carried, and, to a -circumscribed degree, still carry, into the sea “a sufficient amount -of manure for the reproduction of food for millions of human beings.” -It is said that, “could that matter only be arrested in its progress, -and converted into bread and wine, fruit and beef, mutton and wool, -linen and cotton, then cities might flourish once more in the desert, -where men are now digging for the relics of primitive civilization, and -discovering the symbols of luxury and ease beneath the barren sand and -the sunburnt clay.” - -This is one great evil; but in our metropolis there is a greater, a far -greater, beyond all in degree, even if the same abuse exist elsewhere. -What society with one consent pronounces filth--the evacuations of -the human body--is not only washed into the Thames, and the land so -deprived of a vast amount of nutriment, but the tide washes these -evacuations back again, with other abominations. The water we use is -derived almost entirely from the Thames, and therefore the water in -which we boil our vegetables and our meat, the water for our coffee and -tea, the water brewed for our consumption, comes to us, and is imbibed -by us, impregnated over and over again with our own animal offal. We -import guano, and drink a solution of our own fæces: a manure which -might be made far more valuable than the foreign guano. - -Such are a few of the evils of making a common sewer of the -neighbouring river. - -The other mode of removal is, to convey the wet house-refuse, by -drains, to a hole near the house where it is produced, and empty it -periodically when full. - -The house-drainage throughout London has two characteristics. By -one system all excrementitious and slop refuse generally is carried -usually along brick drains from the water-closets, privies, sinks, -lavatories, &c., of the houses into the cesspools, where it accumulates -until its removal (by manual labour) becomes necessary, which is not, -as an average, more than once in two years. By the other, and the -newer system, all the house-refuse is drained into the public sewer, -the cesspool system being thereby abolished. All the houses built or -rebuilt since 1848 are constructed on the last-mentioned principle of -drainage. - - The first of these modes is cesspoolage. - - The second is sewerage. - -I shall first deal with the sewerage of the metropolis. - - -OF THE QUANTITY OF METROPOLITAN SEWAGE. - -Having estimated the gross quantity of wet house-refuse produced -throughout London in the course of the year, and explained the two -modes of removing it from the immediate vicinity of the house, I will -now proceed to set forth the _quantity_ of wet house-refuse matter -which it has been _ascertained_ is removed with the contents of London -sewers. - -An experiment was made on the average discharge of sewage from the -outlets of Church-lane and Smith-street, Chelsea, Ranelagh, King’s -Scholar’s-pond, Grosvenor-wharf, Horseferry-road, Wood-street, -King-street, Northumberland-street, Durham-yard, Norfolk-street, -and Essex-street (the four last-mentioned places running from the -Strand). The experiments were made “under ordinary and extraordinary -circumstances,” in the months of May, June, and July, 1844, but the -system is still the same, so that the result in the investigation as -to the sewage of the year 1844 may be taken as a near criterion of the -present, as regards the localities specified and the general quantity. - -The surface drained into the outlets before enumerated covers, in its -total area, about 7000 acres, of which nearly 3500 may be classed as -urban. The observations, moreover, were made generally during fine -weather. - -I cannot do better by way of showing the reader the minuteness with -which these observations were made, than by quoting the two following -results, being those of the fullest and smallest discharges of twelve -issues into the river. I must premise that these experiments were -made on seven occasions, from May 4 to July 12 inclusive, and made at -different times, but generally about eight hours after high water. In -the Northumberland-street sewer, from which was the largest issue, the -width of the sewer at the outlet was five feet. In the King-street -sewer (the smallest discharge, as given in the second table) the width -of the sewer was four feet. The width, however, does not affect the -question, as there was a greater issue from the Norfolk-street sewer of -two feet, than from the King-street sewer of four feet in width. - - +------------------------------------------------ - | NORTHUMBERLAND STREET. - +---------+-----------------+-------------------- - | | Velocity per | Quantity discharged - | Date. | second. | per second. - +---------+-----------------+-------------------- - | | Feet. | Cubic Feet. - | +-----------------+-------------------- - | May 4 | 4·600 | 10·511000 - | „ 9 | 4·000 | 6·800000 - | June 5 | 4·000 | 6·800000 - | „ 10 | 4·600 | 10·350000 - | „ 11 | 4·920 | 12·300000 - | „ 16 | 3·600 | 5·940000 - | July 12 | 2·760 | 3·394800 - +---------+-----------------+-------------------- - | | | 56·095800 - +---------+-----------------+-------------------- - | Being Mean Discharge | - | per second | 8·013685 - | Ditto per 24 hours | 692382· - +---------------------------+-------------------- - | KING STREET. - +---------+-----------------+-------------------- - | May 4 | ·147 | ·021756 - | „ 9 | ·333 | ·079920 - | June 5 | ·170 | ·020400 - | „ 10 | ·311 | ·064688 - | „ 11 | ·300 | ·048000 - | „ 16 | ·101 | ·004040 - | July 12 | ·103 | ·008240 - +---------+-----------------+-------------------- - | | | ·247044 - +---------+-----------------+-------------------- - |Mean Discharge per second | ·035292 - | Ditto per 24 hours| 3049· - +---------------------------+-------------------- - -Here we find that the mean discharge per second was, from the -Northumberland-street sewer, 692,382· cubic feet per 24 hours, and from -the King-street sewer, 3049 cubic feet per 24 hours. - -The discharge from the principal outlets in the Westminster district -“being the mean of seven observations taken during the summer,” was -1,798,094 cubic feet in 24 hours; the number of acres drained was 7006. -_The mean discharge per acre, in the course of 24 hours, was found to -be about 256 cubic feet, comprising the urban and suburban parts._ - -The sewage, from the discharge of which this calculation was -derived--and the dryness of the weather must not be lost sight of--may -be fairly assumed as derived (in a dry season) almost entirely from -artificial sources or house drainage, as there was no rain-fall, -or but little. “_Supposing, therefore_,” the Report states, “_the -entire surface to be urban, we have 540 cubic feet as the mean daily -discharge per acre_. If, however, the average be taken of the first -eight outlets, viz., from Essex-street to Grosvenor-wharf inclusive, -which drain a surface wholly urban, the result is 1260 cubic feet per -acre in the 24 hours. This excess may be attributed to the number -of manufactories, and the densely-populated nature of the locality -drained; but, as indicative of the general amount of sewage due to -ordinary urban districts, the former ought perhaps to be considered the -fairer average.” - -It is then assumed--I may say officially--that the average discharge -of the urban and suburban sewage from the several districts included -within an area of 58 square miles, is equal to 256 cubic feet per acre. - - Sq. Miles. - The extent of the jurisdiction included - within this area is, on the north side of - the Thames 43 - And on the Surrey and Kent side 15 - - Cubic Feet. - The ordinary _daily_ amount of - sewage discharged into the river on - the north side is, therefore 7,045,120 - And on the south side 2,457,600 - --------- - Making a total of 9,502,720 - -Or a quantity equivalent to a surface of more than 36 acres in extent, -and 6 feet in depth. - -This mass of sewage, it must be borne in mind, is but the _daily_ -product of the sewage of the more populous part of the districts -included within the jurisdiction of the two commissions of sewers. - -The foregoing observations, calculations, and deductions have supplied -the basis of many scientific and commercial speculations, but it must -be remembered that they were taken between seven and eight years ago. -The observations were made, moreover, during fine summer weather, -generally, while the greatest discharge is during rainy weather. There -has been, also, an increase of sewers in the metropolis, because an -increase of streets and inhabited houses. The approximate proportion -of the increase of sewers (and there is no precise account of it) is -pretty nearly that of the streets, lineally. Another matter has too, of -late years, added to the amount of sewage--the abolition of cesspoolage -in a considerable degree, owing to the late Building and Sanitary -Acts, so that fæcal and culinary matters, which were drained into the -cesspool (to be removed by the nightmen), are now drained into the -sewer. Altogether, I am assured, on good authority, the daily discharge -of the sewers extending over 58 square miles of the metropolis may be -now put at 10,000,000 cubic feet, instead of rather more than nine and -a half millions. And this gives, as - - Cubic Feet. - The annual amount of discharge - from the sewers 3,650,000,000 - The total amount of wet house-refuse, - according to the calculation - before given, is 3,820,000,000 - ------------- - Hence there remains 170,000,000 - - Sq. Miles. - Now it will be seen that the total area - from which this amount of sewage is said - to be drained is 58 - But the area of London, according to - the Registrar-General’s limits, is 115 - -So that the 3,650,000,000 cubic feet of sewage annually removed from -58 square miles of the metropolis refer to only one-half of the entire -area of the _true_ metropolis; but it refers, at the same time, to -that part of London which is the most crowded with houses, and since, -in the suburbs, the buildings average about 2 to the acre, and, in -the densest parts of London, about 30, it is but fair to assume that -the refuse would be, at least, in the same proportion, and this is -very nearly the fact; for if we suppose the 58 miles of the suburban -districts to yield twenty times less sewage than the 58 miles of the -urban districts, we shall have 182,500,000 cubic feet to add to the -3,650,000,000 cubic feet before given, or 3,832,500,000 for the sewage -of the entire metropolis. - -It does not appear that the sewage has ever been weighed so as to -give any definite result, but calculating from the weight of water (a -gallon, or 10 lbs. of water, comprising 277·274 cubic inches, and 1 ton -of liquid comprising 36 cubic feet) the total, from the returns of the -investigation in 1844, would be - - Tons. - Quantity of sewage _daily_ emptied into the Thames 278,000 - Ditto Annually 101,390,000 - -In September, 1849, Mr. Banfield, at one time a Commissioner of Sewers, -put the yearly quantity of sewage discharged into the Thames at -45,000,000 tons; but this is widely at variance with the returns as to -quantity. - - -OF ANCIENT SEWERS. - -The traverser of the London streets rarely thinks, perhaps, of the far -extended subterranean architecture below his feet; yet such is indeed -the case, for the sewers of London, with all their imperfections, -irregularities, and even absurdities, are still a great work; certainly -not equal, in all respects, to what once must have existed in Rome, but -second, perhaps, only to the giant works of sewerage in the eternal -city. - -The origin of these Roman sewers seems to be wrapped in as great a -mystery as the foundation of the city itself. The statement of the -Roman historians is that these sewers were the works of the elder -Tarquin, the fifth (apocryphal) king of Rome. Tarquin’s dominions, -from the same accounts, did not in any direction extend above sixteen -miles, and his subjects could be but banditti, foragers, and shepherds. -One conjecture is, that Rome stands on the site of a more ancient -city, and that to its earlier possessors may be attributed the work -of the sewers. To attribute them to the rudeness and small population -of Tarquin’s day, it is contended, is as feasible as it would be to -attribute the ruins of ancient Jerusalem, or any others in Asia Minor, -to the Turks, or the ruins of Palmyra to the Arabs, because these -people enjoy the privilege of possession. - -[Illustration: THE SEWER-HUNTER. - -[_From a Daguerreotype by_ BEARD.]] - -The main sewer of Rome, the Cloaca Maxima, is said to have been -lofty and wide enough for a waggon load of hay to pass clear along -it. Another, and more probable account, however, states that it was -proposed to _enlarge_ the great sewer to these dimensions, but it does -not appear to have been so enlarged. Indeed, when Augustus “made -Rome marble,” it was one of his great works also, under the direction -of Agrippa, to reconstruct, improve, and enlarge the sewers. It was a -project in the days of Rome’s greatness to turn seven navigable rivers -into vast subterraneous passages, larger sewers, along which barges -might pass, carrying on the traffic of Imperial Rome. In one year -the cost of cleansing, renewing, and repairing the sewers is stated -to have been 1000 talents of gold, or upwards of 192,000_l._ Of the -_average_ yearly cost we have no information. Some accounts represent -these sewers as having been rebuilt after the irruption of the Gauls. -In Livy’s time they were pronounced not to be accommodated to the plan -of Rome. Some portions of these ancient structures are still extant, -but they seem to have attracted small notice even from professed -antiquarians; their subterranean character, however, renders such -notice little possible. In two places they are still kept in repair, -and for their original purpose, to carry off the filth of the city, but -only to a small extent. - -Our legislative enactments on the subject of sewers are ancient and -numerous. The oldest is that of 9 Henry III., and the principal is that -of 23 Henry VIII., commonly called the “Statute of Sewers.” These and -many subsequent statutes, however, relate only to watercourses, and are -silent as regards my present topic--the Refuse of London. - -It is remarkable how little is said in the London historians of -the _sewers_. In the two folio volumes of the most searching and -indefatigable of all the antiquarians who have described the old -metropolis, John Stow, the tailor, there is no account of what we now -consider sewers, inclosed and subterranean channels for the conveyance -of the refuse filth of the metropolis to its destination--the Thames. -Had covered sewers been known, or at any rate been at all common, in -Stow’s day, and he died full of years in 1604, and had one of them -presented but a crumbling stone with some heraldic, or apparently -heraldic, device at its outlet, Stow’s industry would certainly have -ferreted out some details. Such, however, is not the case. - -This absence of information I hold to be owing to the fact that no such -sewers then existed. Our present system of sewerage, like our present -system of street-lighting, is a modern work; but it is not, like our -gas-lamps, an _original_ English work. We have but followed, as regards -our arched and subterraneous sewerage, in the wake of Rome. - -As I have said, the early _laws_ of sewers relate to watercourses, -navigable communications, dams, ditches, and such like; there is no -doubt, however, that in the heart of the great towns the filth of the -houses was, by rude contrivances in the way of drainage, or natural -fall, emptied into such places. Even in the accounts of the sewers of -ancient Rome, historians have stated that it is not easy, and sometimes -not possible, to distinguish between the _sewers_ and the _aqueducts_, -and Dr. Lemon, in his English Etymology, speaks of sewers as a species -of aqueducts. So, in some of our earlier Acts of Parliament, it is -hardly possible to distinguish whether the provisions to be applied -to the management of a sewer relate to a ditch to which house-filth -was carried--to a channel of water for general purposes--or to an open -channel being a receptacle of filth and a navigable stream at the same -time. - -That the ditches were not sewers for the conveyance of the filth from -the houses to any very great, or rather any very general extent, may -very well be concluded, because (as I have shown in my account of the -early scavagers) the excrementitious matter was deposited during the -night in the street, and removed by the proper functionaries in the -morning, or as soon as suited their convenience. Though this was the -case generally, it is evident that the filth, or a portion of it, -from the houses which were built on the banks of the Fleet River (as -it was then called, as well as the Fleet Ditch), and on the banks of -the other “brooks,” drained into the current stream. The Corporation -accounts contain very frequent mention of the cleansing, purifying, -and “thorough” cleansing of the Fleet Ditch, the Old Bourne (Holborn -Brook), the Wall Brook, &c. - -Of all these streams the most remarkable was Fleet Ditch, which was -perhaps the first main sewer of London. I give from Stow the following -curious account of its origin. It is now open, but only for a short -distance, offending the air of Clerkenwell. At one period it was to -afford a defence to the City! as the Tower-moat was a defence to the -Tower, and fortress. - -“The Ditch, which partly now remaineth and compassed the Wall of the -City, was begun to be made by the _Londoners_, in the year 1211, and -finished 1213, the 15th of K. _John_. This Ditch being then made of -200 foot broad, caused no small hindrance to the Canons of the Holy -_Trinity_, whose Church stood near _Ealdgate_, for that the said Ditch -passed through their Ground from the _Tower_ unto _Bishopsgate_. - -“The first Occasion of making a Ditch about the City seems to have -been this: _William_, Bishop of _Ely_, Chancellor of _England_, in the -Reign of King _Richard_ I., made a great Ditch round about the _Tower_, -for the better Defence of it against _John_ the King’s Brother, the -King being then out of the Realm. Then did the City also begin a Ditch -to encompass and strengthen their Walls [which happened between the -Years 1190 and 1193.] So the Book _Dunthorn_. Yet the Register of -_Bermondsey_ writes that the Ditch was begun, Oct. 15, 1213, which was -in the Reign of King _John_ that succeeded to _Richard_. - -“This Ditch being originally made for the Defence of the City, was -also a long time together carefully cleansed and maintained, as Need -required; but now of late neglected, and forced either to a very -narrow, and the same a filthy Channel. - -“In the Year of _Christ_, 1354, 28 _Ed._ 3, the Ditch of this City -flowing over the Bank into the _Tower-ditch_, the King commanded -the said Ditch of the City to be cleansed, and so ordered, that the -overflowing thereof should not force any Filth into the _Tower-ditch_. - -“_Anno_, 1379, John Philpot, Maior of _London_, caused this Ditch to -be cleansed, and every Houshold to pay 5_d._, which was a Day’s Work -toward the Charges thereof. - -“_Ralph Joseline_, Maior, 1477, caused the whole Ditch to be cast -and cleansed.... In 1519, the 10th of Henry 8, for cleansing and -scouring the common Ditch, between _Aldgate_, and the Postern next -the _Tower-ditch_; the chief Ditcher had by the day 7_d._, the Second -Ditcher, 6_d._, the other Ditchers, 5_d._ And every Vagabond (for as -they were then termed) 1_d._ the Day, Meat and Drink, at the Charges of -the City. Sum 95_l._ 3_s._ 4_d._ - -“Fleet Ditch was again cleansed in the Year 1549,” Stow continues, -“_Henry Ancoates_ being Maior, at the Charges of the Companies. And -again 1569, the 11th of Queen _Elizabeth_; for cleansing the same Ditch -between _Ealdgate_ and the _Postern_, and making a new Sewer and Wharf -of Timber, from the Head of the _Postern_ into the _Tower-ditch_, -814_l._ 15_s._ 8_d._ (was disbursed). Before the which Time the said -Ditch lay open, without either Wall or Pall, having therein great Store -of very good Fish, of divers Sorts, as many men yet living, who have -taken and tasted them, can well witness. But now no such matter, the -Charge of Cleansing is spared, and great Profit made by letting out the -Banks, with the Spoil of the whole Ditch.” - -The above information appeared, but I am unable to specify the year -(for Stow’s works went through several editions, though it is to be -feared he died very poor) between 1582 and 1590. So did the following:-- - -“At this Day there be no Ditches or Boggs in the City except the said -_Fleet-ditch_, but instead thereof large common _Dreins_ and _Sewers_, -made to carry away the water from the _Postern-Gate_, between the two -_Tower-hills_ to _Fleet-bridge_ without _Ludgate_.” - -Great, indeed, is the change in the character of the capital of -England, from the times when the Fleet Ditch was a defence to the city -(which was then the entire capital); and from the later era, when -“great store of very good fish of divers sorts,” rewarded the skill or -the patience of the anglers or netters; but this, it is evident, was in -the parts near the river (the Tower postern, &c.), and at that time, or -about that time, there was salmon-fishing in the Thames, at least as -far up as Hungerford Wharf. - -The Fleet Ditch seems always to have had a _sewery_ character. It was -described, in 1728, as - - “The king of dykes! than whom no sluice of mud - With deeper sable blots the silver flood--” - -the _silver_ flood being, in Queen Anne’s and the First George’s days, -the London Thames. This silver has been much alloyed since that time. - -Until within these 40 or 50 years, open sewer-ditches, into which -drains were emptied, and ordure and refuse thrown, were frequent, -especially in the remoter parts of Lambeth and Newington, and some -exist to this day; one especially, open for a considerable distance, -flowing along the back of the houses in the Westminster-road, on the -right-hand side towards the bridge, into which the neighbouring houses -are drained. The “Black Ditch,” a filthy sewer, until lately was open -near the Broadwall, and other vicinities of the Blackfriars-road. The -open ditch-sewers of Norwood and Wandsworth have often been spoken of -in Sanitary Reports. Indeed, some of our present sewers, in addition to -Fleet River and Wall Brook, are merely ditches rudely arched over. - -The first covered and continuous street sewer was erected in London--I -think, without doubt--when Wren rebuilt the capital, after the great -fire of 1666. Perhaps there is no direct evidence of the fact, for, -although the statutes and Privy Council and municipal enactments, -consequent on the rebuilding of the capital, required, more or less -peremptorily, “fair sewers, and drains, and watercourses,” it is not -defined in these enactments what was meant by a “sewer;” nor were they -carried out. - -I may mention, as a further proof that open ditches, often enough -stagnant ditches also, were the first London sewers, that, after 1666, -a plan, originally projected, it appears, by Sir Leonard Halliday, -Maior, 60 years previously, and strenuously supported at that time by -Nic Leate, “a worthy and grave citizen,” was revived and reconsidered. -This project, for which Sir Leonard and Nic Leate “laboured much,” was -“for a river to be brought on the north of the city into it, for the -cleansing the sewers and ditches, and for the better keeping London -wholesome, sweet, and clean.” An admirable _intention_; and it is not -impossible nor improbable that in less than two centuries hence, we, of -the present sanitary era, may be accounted, for our sanitary measures, -as senseless as we now account good Sir Leonard Halliday and the worthy -and grave Nic Leate. These gentlemen cared not to brook filth in -their houses, nor to be annoyed by it in the nightly pollution of the -streets, but they advocated its injection into running water, and into -water often running slowly and difficultly, and continually under the -eyes and noses of the citizens. _We_, I apprehend, go a little further. -We drink, and use for the preparation of our meals, the befouled water, -which they did not; for, more than seven-eighths of our water-supply -from the companies is drawn from the Thames, the main sewer of the -greatest city in the world, ancient or modern, into which millions of -tons of every description of refuse are swept yearly. - - -OF THE KINDS AND CHARACTERISTICS OF SEWERS. - -The sewers of London may be arranged into two distinct -groups--according to the side of the Thames on which they are situate. - -Now the essential difference between these two classes of sewers lies -in the elevation of the several localities whence the sewers carry the -refuse to the Thames. - -The chief differences in the circumstances of the people north -and south of the river are shown in the annexed table from the -Registrar-General’s returns:-- - - -------------------------+-------+-------+------- - | | North | South - | |side of|side of - |London.| the | the - | | River.| River. - -------------------------+-------+-------+-------- - Elevation of the ground, | | | - in feet, above Trinity | | | - high-water mark | 39 | 51 | 5 - | | | - Density, or number of | | | - persons to an acre, | | | - 1849 | 30 | 52 | 14 - | | | - Deaths from Cholera to | | | - 10,000 persons living, | | | - in 60 weeks, ending | | | - Nov. 24, 1849 | 66 | 44 | 127 - | | | - Deaths from all causes | | | - annually to 10,000 | | | - persons (5000 males, | | | - 5000 females) living, | | | - during the 7 years, | | | - 1838-44 | 252 | 251 | 257 - -------------------------+-------+-------+-------- - -Here, it will be seen, that while the houses on the north side of the -river stand, on an average, 51 feet above the high-water mark of the -Thames, those on the south side are only 5 feet above it. The effect -of this is shown most particularly in the deaths from cholera in 1849, -which were nearly three times as many on the south as on the north side -of the Thames. It is said, officially, that “of the 15 square miles of -the Urban district on the south side of the river Thames, _three_ miles -are from six to seven feet below high-water mark, so that the locality -may be said to be drained only for four hours out of the twelve, and -during these four hours very imperfectly.... When the tide rises above -the orifices of the sewers, the whole drainage of the district is -stopped until the tide recedes again, rendering the whole system of -sewers in Kent and Surrey only an _articulation of cesspools_.” - -That this is but the fact, the following table of the elevation in feet -above the Trinity high-water mark, as regards the several districts on -the Surrey side of the Thames, may be cited as evidence. - - Elevation. - Lewisham 28 - Wandsworth 22 - Greenwich 8 - Camberwell 4 - Lambeth 3 - St. Saviour (Southwark) 2 - St. Olave 2 - Bermondsey 0 - Rotherhithe 0 - St. George’s (Southwark) 0 - Newington (below high water) 2 - -From these returns, made by Capt. Dawson, R.E., the difficulty, to use -no stronger word, attending the sewerage of the Surrey district is -shown at once. There is no flow to be had, or--the word more generally -used, no _run_ for the sewage. In parts of the north of England it used -to be a general, and still is a partial, saying among country-people -who are figuratively describing what they account impossible. “Ay, -when? _When_ water runs up bank.” This is a homely expression of the -difficulties attending the Surrey sewerage. - -There is, as regards these Surrey, more than the Kent, sewers, another -evil which promotes the “articulation of cesspools.” Some of these -sewers have “dead-ends,” like places which in the streets (a parallel -case enough) are known as “no thoroughfare,” and in these sewers it is -seldom, in any state of the tide, that flushing can be resorted to; -consequently these cesspool-like sewers remain uncleansed, or have to -be cleansed by manual labour, the matter being drawn up into the street -or road. - -The refuse conduits of the metropolis are of two kinds:-- - - 1. Sewers. - 2. Drains. - -These two classes of refuse-charts are often confounded, even in some -official papers, the sewer being there designated the “main drain.” All -sewerage is undoubtedly drainage, but there is a manifest distinction -between a sewer and a drain. - -The First-Class Sewers, which are generally termed “main sewers,” and -run along the centres of the first-class streets (first-class alike -from the extent or populousness of such streets), may be looked upon -as underground rivers of refuse, to which the drains are tributary -rivulets. No sewer exists unconnected with the drains from the streets -and houses; but many house-drains are constructed apart from the -sewers, communicating only with the cesspools. Even where houses are -built in close contiguity to a public sewer, and built after the new -mode without cesspools, there is always a drain to the sewer; no house -so situated can get rid of its refuse except by means of a drain; -unless, indeed, the house be not drained at all, and its filth be flung -down a gullyhole, or got rid of in some other way. - -These drains, all with a like determination, differ only in their -forms. They are barrel-shaped, made of rounded bricks, or earthenware -pipeage, and of an interior between a round and an oval, with a -diameter of from 2 to 6 inches, although only a few private houses, -comparatively, are so drained. The barrel drain of larger dimensions, -is used in the newer public buildings and larger public mansions, when -it represents a sort of house or interior sewer as well as a house -main drain, for smaller drains find their issue into the barrel-drain. -There is the barrel-drain in the new Houses of Parliament, and in large -places which cover the site of, and are required for the purposes of -several houses or offices. The tubular drain is simply piping, of which -I have spoken fully in my account of the present compulsory mode of -house drainage. The third drain, one more used to carry refuse to the -cesspool than the sewer, but still carrying such refuse to the sewers, -is the old-fashioned brick drain, generally 9 inches square. - -I shall first deal with the sewerage, and then with the house and -street drainage. - -The sewer is a twofold receptacle of refuse; into it are conveyed the -wet refuse not only of many of the houses, but of all the streets. - -The slop or surface water of the streets is conveyed to the sewer by -means of smaller sewers or street-drains running from the “kennel” or -channel to the larger sewers. - -In the streets, at such uncertain distances as the traffic and -circumstances of the locality may require, are gully-holes. These are -openings into the sewer, and were formerly called, as they were, simply -gratings, a sort of iron trap-doors of grated bars, clumsily made, and -placed almost at random. On each side of the street was, even into -the present century, a very formidable channel, or kennel, as it was -formerly written, into which, in heavy rains, the badly-scavaged street -dirt was swept, often demanding a good leap from one who wished to -cross in a hurry. These “kennels” emptied themselves into the gratings, -which were not unfrequently choked up, and the kennel was then an utter -nuisance. At the present time the channel is simply a series of stone -work at the edge of the footpaths, blocks of granite being sloped to -meet more or less at right angles, and the flow from the inclination -from the centre of the street to the channel is carried along without -impedimen or nuisance into the gully-hole. - -The gully-hole opens into a drain, running, with a rapid slope, into -the sewer, and so the wet refuse of the streets find its vent. - -In many courts, alleys, lanes, &c., inhabited by the poor, where there -is imperfect or no drainage to the houses, all the slops from the -houses are thrown down the gully-holes, and frequently enough blood and -offal are poured from butchers’ premises, which might choke the house -drain. There have, indeed, been instances of worthless street dirt -(slop) collected into a scavager’s vehicle being shot down a gully-hole. - -The sewers, as distinct from the drains, are to be divided principally -into three classes, all devoted to the same purpose--the conveyance -of the underground filth of the capital to the Thames--and all -connected by a series of drains, afterwards to be described, with the -dwelling-houses. - -The _first-class sewers_ are found in the main streets, and flow at -their outlets into the river. - -The _second-class sewers_ run along the second-class streets, -discharging their contents into a first-class sewer; and - -The _third-class sewers_ are for the reception of the sewage from the -smaller streets, and always communicate, for the voidance of their -contents, with a sewer of the second or first description. - -As regards the destination of the sewers, there is no difference -between the Middlesex and Surrey portions of the metropolis. The sewage -is _all_ floated into the river. - -The first-class sewers of the modern build rarely exceed 50 inches -by 30 in internal dimensions; the second class, 40 inches by 24; the -third, 30 inches by 18. - -Smaller class or branch sewers, from No. 4 to No. 8 inclusive, also -form part of the great subterranean filth-channels of the metropolis. -It is only, however, the three first-mentioned classes which can be -described as in any way principal _sewers_; the others are in the -capacity of branch sewers, the ramifications being in many places very -extensive, while pipes are often used. The dimensions of these smaller -sewers, when pipes are not used, are--No. 4, 20 inches by 12; No. 5, -17-1/2 inches by 10-1/2; No. 6, 15 inches by 9; No. 7, 12 inches by -7-1/2; and No. 8, 9 inches by 6. - -These branch sewers may, from their circumscribed dimensions, be looked -upon as mere channels of connection with the larger descriptions; but -they present, as I have intimated, an important part of the general -system. This may be shown by the fact, that in the estimates for -building sewers for the improvement of the drainage of the city of -Westminster (a plan, however, not carried out), the estimated, or -indeed surveyed, run of the first class was to be 8118 feet; of the -second class, 4524 feet; of the third, but 2086 feet; while of the No. -5 and No. 6 description, it was, respectively, 18,709 and 53,284 feet. -The branch sewers may, perhaps, be represented in many instances as -public drains connecting the sewer of the street with the issue from -the houses, but I give the appellation I find in the reports. - -The dimensions I have cited are not to be taken as an average size of -the existing sewers of the metropolis on either side of the Thames, for -no average size and no uniformity of shape can be adduced, as there has -been no uniformity observed. The sewers are of all sizes and shapes, -and of all depths from the surface of the streets. I was informed by -an engineering authority that he had often seen it asserted that the -naval authorities of the kingdom could not build a war-steamer, and it -might very well be said that the sanitary authorities of the metropolis -could not build a sewer, as none of the present sewers could be cited -as in all respects properly fulfilling all the functions required. -But it must be remembered that the present engineers have to contend -with great difficulties, the whole matter being so complicated by the -blunderings and mismanagement of the past. - -The dimensions I have cited (because they appear officially) exceed the -medium size of the _newer_ sewerage, the average height of the first -class being in such sewers about 3 feet 9 inches. - -_Of the width of the sewers_, as of the height, no precise average can -be drawn. Perhaps that of the New Palace main, or first-class sewer, 3 -feet 6 inches, may be nearest the average, while the smaller classes -diminish in their width in the proportions I have shown. The sewers of -the older constructions nearly all widen and deepen as they near the -outlet, and this at no definite distance from the river, but from a -quarter of a mile or somewhat less to a mile and more. Some such sewers -are then 14 feet in width; some 20 feet, and no doubt of proportionate -height, but I do not find that the height has been ascertained. -For flushing purposes there are recesses of greater or less width, -according to the capacity of the sewer, where sluice-gates, &c., can be -fixed, and water accumulated. - -Under the head of “Subterranean Survey of the Sewers,” will be found -some account of the different dimensions of the sewers. - -_The form of the interior of the sewers_ (as shown in the illustrations -I have given) is irregularly elliptical. They are arched at the -summits, and more or less hollowed or curved, internally, at the -bottom. The bottom of the sewer is called the “invert,” from a general -resemblance in the construction to an “inverted” arch. The _best_ form -of invert is a matter which has attracted great engineering attention. -It is, indeed, the important part of the sewer, as the part along which -there is the flow of sewage; and the superior or inferior formation of -the invert, of course, facilitates or retards the transmission of the -contents. - -A few years back, the building of egg-shaped, or “oviform” sewers, was -strongly advocated. It was urged that the flow of the sewage and the -sewer-water was accelerated by the invert (especially) being oviform, -as the matter was more condensed when such was the shape adopted, while -the more the matter was diffused, as in some of the inverts of the more -usual form of sewers, the less rapid was its flow, and consequently the -greater its deposit. - -What extent of egg-shaped sewers are now, so to speak, at work, I could -not ascertain. One informant thought it might be somewhere about 50 -miles. - -The following interesting account of the velocities of streams, with -a relativeness to sewers, is extracted from the evidence of Mr. -Phillips:-- - -“The area of surface that a sewer will drain, and the quantity of water -that it will discharge in a given time, will be greater or less in -proportion as the channel is inclined from a horizontal to a vertical -position. The ordinary or common run of water in each sewer, due from -house drainage alone, and irrespective of rain, should have sufficient -velocity to prevent the usual matter discharged into the sewer from -depositing. For this purpose, it is necessary that there should be -in each sewer a constant velocity of current equal to 2-1/2 feet per -second, or 1-3/4 mile per hour.” Mr. Phillips then states that the -inclinations of all rivulets, &c., diminish as they progress to their -outfalls. “If the force of the waters of the river Rhone,” he has said, -“were not absorbed by the operation of some constant retardation in -its course, the stream would have shot into the Bay of Marseilles with -the tremendous velocity of 164 miles every hour. Even if the Thames -met with no system of impediments in its course, the stream would have -rushed into the sea with a velocity of 80 feet per second, or 54-1/2 -miles in an hour.... The inclinations of the sewers of a natural -district should be made to diminish from their heads to their outfalls -in a corresponding ratio of progression, so that as the body of water -is increased at each confluence, one and the same velocity and force of -current may be kept up throughout the whole of them.” - -Mr. Phillips advocates a tubular system of sewerage and drainage. - -The main sewer, which has lately called forth the most public -attention and professional controversy, is that connected with the -new Houses of Parliament, or as they are called in divers reports and -correspondence, the “New Palace at Westminster.” - -_The workmanship in the building of the sewers_ is of every quality. -The material of which some of the older sewers are constructed is a -porous sort of brick, which is often found crumbling and broken, and -saturated with damp and rottenness, from the exhalations and contact -of their contents. The sewers erected, however, within the last -twenty, and more especially within the last ten years, are sometimes -of granite, but generally of the best brick, with an interior coating -of enduring cement, and generally with concrete on their exterior, -to protect them from the dampness and decaying qualities of the -superincumbent or lateral soil. - -_The depth of the sewers_--I mean from the top of the sewer to the -surface of the street--seems to vary as everything else varies about -them. Some are found forty feet below the street, some _two_ feet, some -almost level! These, however, are exceptions; and the average depth of -the sewers on the Middlesex side is from twelve to fourteen feet; on -the Surrey side, from six to eight feet. The reason is that the north -shores of the metropolis are above the tide level, the south shores are -below it. - -An authority on the subject has said, “The Surrey sewers are bad, -owing principally to the land being below tide level. They were the -most expensively constructed, because, _perhaps_, in that Commission -the surveyors were paid by percentage on the cost of works. When it -was proposed, in the Westminster Commission, to effect a reduction -of four-fifths in the cost, it was like a proposition to return the -officers’ salaries to that extent, if they had been paid in that way.” - -The reader may have observed that the official intelligence I have -given all, or nearly all, refers to the “Westminster and part of -Middlesex” Commission, and to that of the “Surrey and Kent.” This is -easily accounted for. In the metropolitan districts, up to 1847, the -only Commission which published its papers was the Westminster, of -which Mr. L. C. Hertslet had the charge as clerk; when the Commissions -were consolidated in 1847, he printed the Westminster and Surrey only, -the others being of minor importance. - -I may observe that one of the engineers, in showing the difficulty or -impossibility of giving any description of a _system_ of sewerage, as -to points of agreement or difference, represents the whole mass as but -a “detached parcel of sewers.” - -_The course of the sewers_ is in no direct or uniform line, with the -exception of one characteristic--all their bearings are towards the -river as regards the main sewers (first-class), and all the bearings -of the second-class sewers are towards the main sewers in the main -streets. The smaller classes of sewers fill up the great area of London -sewerage with a perfect network of intersection and connection, and -even this network is increased manyfold by its connection with the -house-drains. - -There is no map of the general sewerage of the metropolis, merely -“sections” and “plans” of improvements making or suggested, in the -reports of the surveyors, &c., to the Commissioners; but did a map of -subterranean London exist, with its lines of every class of sewerage -and of the drainage which feeds the sewers; with its course, moreover, -of gas-pipes and water-pipes, with their connection with the houses, -the streets, the courts, &c., it would be the most curious and -skeleton-like map in the world. - - -OF THE SUBTERRANEAN CHARACTER OF THE SEWERS. - -In my inquiries among that curious body of men, the “Sewer Hunters,” -I found them make light of any danger, their principal fear being -from the attacks of rats in case they became isolated from the gang -with whom they searched in common, while they represented the odour -as a mere nothing in the way of unpleasantness. But these men pursued -only known and (by them) beaten tracks at low water, avoiding any -deviation, and so becoming but partially acquainted with the character -and direction of the sewers. And had it been otherwise, they are not -a class competent to describe what they saw, however keen-eyed after -silver spoons. - -The following account is derived chiefly from official sources. I -may premise that where the deposit is found the greatest, the sewer -is in the worst state. This deposit, I find it repeatedly stated, -is of a most miscellaneous character. Some of the sewers, indeed, -are represented as the dust-bins and dung-hills of the immediate -neighbourhood. The deposit has been found to comprise all the -ingredients from the breweries, the gas-works, and the several chemical -and mineral manufactories; dead dogs, cats, kittens, and rats; offal -from slaughter-houses, sometimes even including the entrails of the -animals; street-pavement dirt of every variety; vegetable refuse; -stable-dung; the refuse of pig-styes; night-soil; ashes; tin kettles -and pans (pansherds); broken stoneware, as jars, pitchers, flower-pots, -&c.; bricks; pieces of wood; rotten mortar and rubbish of different -kinds; and even rags. Our criminal annals of the previous century show -that often enough the bodies of murdered men were thrown into the Fleet -and other ditches, then the open sewers of the metropolis, and if found -washed into the Thames, they were so stained and disfigured by the -foulness of the contents of these ditches, that recognition was often -impossible, so that there could be but one verdict returned--“Found -drowned.” Clothes stripped from a murdered person have been, it was -authenticated on several occasions in Old Bailey evidence, thrown into -the open sewer ditches, when torn and defaced, so that they might -not supply evidence of identity. So close is the connection between -physical filthiness in public matters and moral wickedness. - -The following particulars show the characteristics of the underground -London of the sewers. The subterranean surveys were made after the -commissions were consolidated. - -“An old sewer, running between Great Smith-street and St. Ann-street -(Westminster), is a curiosity among sewers, although it is probably -only one instance out of many similar constructions that will be -discovered in the course of the subterranean survey. The bottom is -formed of planks laid upon transverse timbers, 6 inches by 6 inches, -about 3 feet apart. The size of the sewer varies in width from 2 to 6 -feet, and from 4 to 5 feet in height. The inclination of the bottom -is very irregular: there are jumps up at two or three places, and it -contains a deposit of filth averaging 9 inches in depth, the sickening -smell from which escapes into the houses and yards that drain into it. -In many places the side walls have given way for lengths of 10 and 15 -feet. Across this sewer timbers have been laid, upon which the external -wall of a workshop has been built; the timbers are in a decaying state, -and should they give way, the wall will fall into the sewer.” - -From the further accounts of this survey, I find that a sewer from -the Westminster Workhouse, which was of all shapes and sizes, was in -so wretched a condition that the leveller could scarcely work for -the thick scum that covered the glasses of the spirit-level in a few -minutes after being wiped. “At the outfall into the Dean-street sewer, -it is 3 feet 6 inches by 2 feet 8 inches for a short length. From the -end of this, a wide sewer branches in each direction at right angles, -5 feet 8 inches by 5 feet 5 inches. Proceeding to the eastward about -30 feet, a chamber is reached about 30 feet in length, from the roof -of which hangings of putrid matter _like stalactites_ descend _three -feet in length_. At the end of this chamber, the sewer passes under the -public privies, the ceilings of which can be seen from it. Beyond this -it is not possible to go.” - -“In the Lucas-street sewer, where a portion of new work begins and the -old terminates, a space of about 10 feet has been covered with boards, -which, having broken, a dangerous chasm has been caused immediately -under the road.” - -“The West-street sewer had one foot of deposit. It was flushed while -the levelling party was at work there, and the stream was so rapid that -it nearly washed them away, instrument and all.” - -There are further accounts of “deposit,” or of “stagnant filth,” in -other sewers, varying from 6 to 14 inches, but that is insignificant -compared to what follows. - -The foregoing, then, is the pith of the first authentic account which -has appeared in print of the actually surveyed condition of the -subterranean ways, over which the super-terranean tides of traffic are -daily flowing. - -The account I have just given relates to the (former) Westminster -and part of Middlesex district on the north bank of the Thames, as -ascertained under the Metropolitan Commission. I now give some extracts -concerning a similar survey on the south bank, in different and -distant directions in the district, once the “Surrey and Kent.” The -Westminster, &c., survey took place in 1848; the Kent and Surrey in -1849. In the one case, 72 miles of sewers were surveyed; in the other, -69-1/8 miles. - -“The surveyors (in the Surrey and Kent sewers) find great difficulty -in levelling the sewers of this district (I give the words of the -Report); for, in the first place, the deposit is _usually_ about two -feet in depth, and in some cases it amounts to nearly _five feet_ of -putrid matter. The smell is usually of the most horrible description, -the air being so foul that explosion and choke damp are very frequent. -On the 12th January we were very nearly losing a whole party by choke -damp, the last man being dragged out on his back (through two feet of -black fœtid deposits) in a state of insensibility.... Two men of one -party had also a narrow escape from drowning in the Alscot-road sewer, -Rotherhithe. - -“The sewers on the Surrey side are very irregular; even where they are -inverted they frequently have a number of steps and inclinations the -reverse way, causing the deposit to accumulate in _elongated cesspools_. - -“It must be considered very fortunate that the subterranean parties -did not first commence on the Surrey side, for if such had been the -case, we should most undoubtedly have broken down. When compared with -Westminster, the sewers are smaller and more full of deposit; and, bad -as the smell is in the sewers in Westminster, it is infinitely worse on -the Surrey side.” - -Several details are then given, but they are only particulars of the -general facts I have stated. - -The following, however, are distinct facts concerning this branch of -the subject. - -In my inquiries among the working scavagers I often heard of their -emptying street slop into sewers, and the following extract shows that -I was not misinformed:-- - -“The detritus from the macadamized roads frequently forms a kind of -grouting in the sewers so hard that it cannot be removed without hand -labour. - -“One of the sewers in Whitehall and another in Spring-gardens have from -three to four feet of this sort of deposit; and another in Eaton-square -was found filled up within a few inches of the ‘soffit,’ but it is -supposed that the scavengers (scavagers) emptied the road-sweepings -down the gully-grate in this instance;” and in other instances, too, -there is no doubt--especially at Charing Cross, and the Regent Circus, -Piccadilly. - -Concerning the sewerage of the most aristocratic parts of the city -of Westminster, and of the fashionable squares, &c., to the north of -Oxford-street, I glean the following particulars (reported in 1849). -They show, at any rate, that the patrician quarters have not been -unduly favoured; that there has been no partiality in the construction -of the sewerage. In the Belgrave and Eaton-square districts there are -many faulty places in the sewers which abound with noxious matter, in -many instances stopping up the house drains and “smelling horribly.” -It is much the same in the Grosvenor, Hanover, and Berkeley-square -localities (the houses in the squares themselves included). Also in the -neighbourhood of Covent-garden, Clare-market, Soho and Fitzroy-squares; -while north of Oxford-street, in and about Cavendish, Bryanstone, -Manchester, and Portman-squares, there is so much rottenness and decay -that there is no security for the sewers standing from day to day, and -to flush them for the removal of their “most loathsome deposit” might -be “to bring some of them down altogether.” - -One of the accounts of a subterranean survey concludes with the -following rather curious statement:--“Throughout the new Paddington -district the neighbourhood of Hyde Park Gardens, and the costly squares -and streets adjacent, the sewers abound with the foulest deposit, from -which the most disgusting effluvium arises; indeed, amidst the whole of -the Westminster District of Sewers the _only_ little spot which can be -mentioned as being in at all a satisfactory state is the Seven Dials.” - -I may point out also that these very curious and authenticated accounts -by no means bear out the zymotic doctrine of the Board of Health as -to the cause of cholera; for where the zymotic influences from the -sewers were the worst, in the patrician squares of what has been called -Belgravia and Tyburnia, the cholera was the least destructive. This, -however, is no reason whatever why the stench should not be stifled. - - -OF THE HOUSE-DRAINAGE OF THE METROPOLIS AS CONNECTED WITH THE SEWERS. - -Every house built or rebuilt since the passing of the Metropolitan -Sewers Act in 1848, must be drained, with an exception, which I shall -specify, into a sewer. The law, indeed, divested of its technicalities -is this: the owner of a newly-erected house must drain it to a sewer, -without the intervention of a cesspool, if there be a sewer within -100 feet of the site of the house; and, if necessary, in places but -partially built over, such owner must continue the sewer along the -premises, and make the necessary drain into it; all being done under -the approval of the proper officer under the Commissioners. If there -be, however, an established sewer, along the side, front, or back of -any house, a covered drain must be made into that at the cost of the -owner of the premises to be drained. “Where a sewer,” says the 46th -section of the Act, “shall already be made, and a drain only shall -be required, the party is to pay a contribution towards the original -expense of the sewer, if it shall have been made within thirty-five -years before the 4th of September, 1848, the contribution to be paid -to the builder of the sewer.”... “In cases where there shall be no -sewer into which a drain could be made, the party must make a covered -drain to lead into a cesspool or other place (not under a house) as -the Commissioners may direct. If the parties infringe this rule, the -Commissioners may do the work and throw the cost on them in the nature -of an improvement rate, or as charges for default, and levy the amount -by distress.” - -I mention these circumstances more particularly to show the extent, and -the far-continued ramification, of the subterranean metropolis. I am -assured by one of the largest builders in the western district of the -capital that the new regulations (as to the dispensing with cesspools) -are readily complied with, as it is a recommendation which a house -agent, or any one letting new premises, is never slow to advance (“and -when it’s the truth,” he said, “they do it with a better grace”), that -there will be in the course of occupancy no annoyance and no expense -incurred in the clearing away of cesspoolage. - -I shall at present describe only the house-drainage, which is connected -with the public sewerage. The old mode of draining a house separately -into the cesspool of the premises will, of course, be described under -the head of cesspoolage, and that old system is still very prevalent. - -At the times of passing both general and local Acts concerning -buildings, town improvements and extensions, the erection of new -streets and the removal of old, much has been said and written -concerning better systems of ventilating, warming, and draining -dwelling-houses; but until after the first outbreak of cholera in -England, in 1832, little public attention was given to the great -drainage of all the sewers. However, on the passing of the Building and -Sanitary Acts generally, the authorities made many experiments, not so -much to improve the system of sewerage as of house-drainage, so as to -make the dwelling-houses more wholesome and sweet. - -To effect this, the great object was the abolition of the cesspool -system, under which filth must accumulate, and where, from scamped -buildings or other causes, evaporation took place, the effects of the -system were found to be vile and offensive, and have been pronounced -miasmatic. Having just alluded to these matters, I proceed to describe -the modernly-adopted connection of house-drainage and street-sewerage. - -Experiments, as I have said, were set on foot under the auspices of -public bodies, and the opinions of eminent engineers, architects, -and surveyors were also taken. Their opinions seem really to be -concentrated in the advocacy of _one_ remedy--improved house-drainage; -and they appear to have agreed that the system which is at present -adopted is, under the circumstances, the best that can be adopted. - -I was told also by an eminent practical builder, perfectly unconnected -with any official or public body, and, indeed, often at issue with -surveyors, &c., that the new system was unquestionably a great -improvement in every respect, and that some years before its adoption -as at present he had abetted such a system, and had carried it into -effect when he could properly do so. - -I will first show the mode and then the cost of the new system. - -I find it designated “back,” “front,” “tubular,” and “pipe” -house-drainage, and all with the object of carrying off all fæces, soil -water, cesspool matter, &c., before it has had time to accumulate. -It is not by brick or other drains of masonry that the system is -carried out or is recommended to be carried out, but by means of -tubular earthenware pipes; and for any efficient carrying out of the -projected improvement a system of _constant_, and not as at present -_intermittent_, supply of water from the several companies would be -best. These pipes communicate with the nearest sewer. The pipes in the -tubular drainage are of red earthenware or stoneware (pot). - -The use of earthenware, clay, or pot pipes for the conveyance of -liquids is very ancient. Mr. Stirrat, a bleacher in Paisley, in a -statement to the Board of Health, mentioned that clay pipes were used -in ancient times. King Hezekiah (2nd Book of Kings, chap. 20, and 2nd -Book of Chronicles, chap. 32) brought in water from Jerusalem. “His -pool and conduit,” said Mr. Stirrat, “are still to be seen. The conduit -is three feet square inside, built of freestone, strongly cemented; -the stone, fifteen inches thick, evidently intended to sustain a -considerable pressure; and I have seen pipes of clay, taken by a friend -from a house in the ruins of the ancient city, of one inch bore, -and about seven inches in diameter, proving evidently, to my mind, -that ancient Jerusalem was supplied with water on the principle of -gravitation. The pools or reservoirs are also at this day in tolerably -good order, one of them still filled with water; the other broken down -in the centre, no doubt by some besieging enemy, to cut off the supply -to the city.” - -The new system to supply the place of the cesspools is a _combined_, -while the old is principally a _separate_, system of house-drainage; -but the new system is equally available for such separate drainage. - -As regards the success of this system the reports say experiments have -been tried in so large a number of houses, under such varied and, in -many cases, disadvantageous circumstances, that no doubts whatsoever -can remain in the minds of competent and disinterested persons as to -the efficient self-cleansing action of well-adjusted tubular drains and -sewers, even without any additional supplies of water. - -Mr. Lovick said:-- - -“A great number of small 4-inch tubular drains have been laid down -in the several districts, some for considerable periods. They have -been found to keep themselves clear by the ordinary soil and drainage -waters of the houses. I have no doubt that pipes of this kind will keep -themselves clear by the ordinary discharge of house-drainage; assuming, -of course, a supply of water, pipes of good form, and materials -properly laid, and with fair usage.” - -“One of the earliest illustrations of the tubular system,” it is stated -in a Report of the Board of Health, “was given in the improved drainage -of a block of houses in the cloisters of Westminster, which had been -the seat of a severe epidemic fever. The cesspools and the old drains -were filled up, and an entire system of tubular drainage and sewerage -substituted for the service of that block of houses. - -“The Dean of Westminster, in a letter on the state of this drainage, -says, ‘I beg to report to the Commissioners that the success of the -entire new pipe-drainage laid down in St. Peter’s College during the -last twelve months has been complete. I consider this experiment on -drainage and sewage of about fifteen houses to afford a triumphant -proof of the efficacy of draining by pipes, and of the facility of -_dispensing entirely with cesspools and brick sewers_.’ Up to this time -they have acted, and continue to act, perfectly. - -“Mr. Morris, a surveyor attached to the Metropolitan Sewers Commission, -gives the following account of the action of trial works of improved -house-drainage:-- - -“‘I have introduced the new 4-inch tubular house-drains into some -houses for the trustees of the parish of Poplar, with water-closets, -and have received no just cause of complaint. In every instance where -I have applied it, I found the system answer extremely well, if a -sufficient quantity of water has been used. - -“‘The answer of the householders as to the effect of the new drainage -has invariably been that they and their families have been better in -health; that they were formerly annoyed with smells and effluvia, from -which they are now quite free. - -“‘Since the new drainage has been laid down there has been only -occasion to go on the ground to examine it once for the whole year, and -that was from the inefficiency of the water service. It was found that -rags had been thrown down and had got into the pipe; and further, that -very little water had been used, so that the stoppage was the fault of -the tenant, not of the system.’” - -Mr. Gotto, the engineer, having stated that in a plan for the -improvement of Goulston-street, Whitechapel, not only was the -removal of all cesspools contemplated, but also the substitution of -water-closet apparatus, gave the following estimate of _the cost_, -provided the pipes were made and the work done by contract under the -Commissioners of Sewers:-- - - -_Water-closet Apparatus, &c._ - - £ _s._ _d._ - Emptying, &c., cesspool 0 12 0 - Digging, &c., for 8-feet pipe drain, - at 4_d._ 0 2 8 - Making good to walls and floor of - water-closet over drain, at 3_d._ 0 2 0 - 8 feet run of 4-inch pipe, at 3_d._ 0 2 0 - Laying ditto, at 2_d._ 0 1 4 - Extra for junction 0 0 4 - Fixing ditto 0 0 2 - Water-closet apparatus, with stool - cock 0 10 0 - Fixing ditto 0 2 0 - Contingencies (10 per cent.) 0 3 6 - The yard sink and drain would - cost 0 11 2 - Kitchen sink and drain 0 15 7-1/2 - --------------- - - So that the cost of _back_ draining - one house, including water-closet, - would be 3 2 9-1/2 - -The _front_ tubular drainage of a similar house (with fifteen yards -of carriage-way to be paved) would cost 6_l._ 2_s._ 7-1/2_d._; or the -drainage would cost, according to the old system, 11_l._ 13_s._ 11_d._ - -“The engineering witnesses who have given their special attention -to the subject,” state the Board of Health, in commenting on the -information I have just cited, “affirm that upon the improved system -of combined works the expense of the apparatus in substitution of -cesspools would _not greatly exceed one-half the expense_ of cleaning -the cesspools.” - -The engineers have calculated--stating the difficulty of coming to a -nice calculation--that the present system of cesspools entailed an -average expenditure, for cleansing and repairs, of 4_d._ a week on each -householder; and that by the new system it would be but 1-3/4_d._ The -Board of Health’s calculations, however, are, I regret to say, always -dubious. - -The subjoined scale of the difference in cost was prepared at the -instance of the Board. - -Mr. Grant took four blocks of houses for examination, and the results -are given as a guide to what would be the general expenditure if the -change took place:-- - - “In one block of 44 houses-- - - The length of drains by back drainage was 1544 feet. - - Cost (exclusive of pans, traps, and water in both cases) of back - drainage, 83_l._ 12_s._, or 1_l._ 18_s._ per house. - - Cost of separate tubular drainage, 467_l._ 9_s._ 6_d._, or 10_l._ - 12_s._ 6_d._ per house. - - Cost of separate brick drains, 910_l._ 19_s._, or 20_l._ 14_s._ 1_d._ - per house. - - * * * * * - - “In another block of 23 houses-- - - The length of back drains was 783 feet. - - Of separate drains, 1437 feet. - - The cost of back tubular drains, 45_l._ 12_s._ 6_d._, or 1_l._ 19_s._ - 8_d._ per house. - - Of separate tubular drains, 131_l._ 13_s._ 6_d._, or 5_l._ 14_s._ - 6_d._ per house. - - Of separate brick drains, 305_l._ 7_s._, or 13_l._ 5_s._ 6_d._ per - house. - - * * * * * - - “In another block of 46 houses-- - - The length of back drainage, 1143 feet. - - Ditto by separate ditto, 1892 feet. - - The cost of back tubular drainage, 66_l._ 5_s._ 2_d._, or 1_l._ 8_s._ - 9-3/4_d._ per house. - - Ditto of separate ditto ditto, 178_l._ 19_s._ 8_d._, or 3_l._ 17_s._ - 10_d._ per house. - - Ditto of separate brick ditto, 390_l._ 4_s._, or 8_l._ 9_s._ 8_d._ per - house. - - * * * * * - - “In a fourth block of 46 houses-- - - The length of back drains, 985 feet. - - Ditto of separate ditto, 2913 feet. - - Cost of back tubular drainage, 66_l._ 8_s._ 2_d._, or 1_l._ 8_s._ - 10-1/2_d._ per house. - - Ditto of separate ditto ditto, 262_l._ 11_s._ 7_d._, or 5_l._ 14_s._ - 2_d._ per house. - - Ditto of separate brick ditto, 614_l._ 16_s._ 3_d._, or 13_l._ 7_s._ - 3-3/4_d._ per house.” - -I have mentioned the diversity of opinion as to the best form, and -even material, for a sewer; and there is the same diversity as to -the material, &c., for house and gully or street-drainage, more -especially in the _pipes_ of the larger volume. The pipe-drainage of -any description is far less in favour than it was. One reason is that -it does not promote _subsoil drainage_; another is the difficulty -of repairs if the joints or fittings of pipes require mending; and -then the combination of the noxious gases is most offensive in its -exhalations, and difficult to overcome. - -I was informed by a nightman, used to the cleansing of drains and to -night-work generally, that when there was any escape from one of the -tubular pipes the stench was more intense than any he had ever before -experienced from any drains on the old system. - - -OF THE LONDON STREET-DRAINS. - -We have as yet dealt only with the means of removing the liquid -refuse from the houses of the metropolis. This, as was pointed out -at the commencement of the present subject, consists principally of -the 19,000,000,000 gallons of water that are annually supplied to the -London residences by mechanical means. But there still remain the -5,000,000,000 gallons of surface or rain-water to be carried off from -the 1760 miles of streets, and the roofs and yards of the 300,000 -houses which now form the British metropolis. If this immense volume of -liquid were not immediately removed from our thoroughfares as fast as -it fell, many of our streets would not only be transformed into canals -at certain periods of the year, but perhaps at all times (except during -drought) they would be, if not impassable, at least unpleasant and -unhealthy, from the puddles or small pools of stagnant water that would -be continually rotting them. Were such the case, the roads and streets -that we now pride ourselves so highly upon would have their foundations -soddened. “If the surface of a road be not kept clean so as to admit -of its becoming dry between showers of rain,” said Lord Congleton, -the great road authority, “it will be rapidly worn away.” Indeed the -immediate removal of rain-water, so as to prevent its percolating -through the surface of the road, and thereby impairing the foundation, -appears to be one of the main essentials of road-making. - -The means of removing this surface water, especially from the streets -of a city where the rain falls at least every other day throughout the -year, and reaches an aggregate depth of 24 feet in the course of the -twelvemonth, is a matter of considerable moment. In Paris, and indeed -almost all of the French towns, a channel is formed in the middle of -each thoroughfare, and down this the water from the streets and houses -is continually coursing, to the imminent peril of all pedestrians, for -the wheels of every vehicle distribute, as it goes, a muddy shower on -either side of the way. - -_We_, however, have not only removed the channels from the middle to -the sides of our streets, but instituted a distinct system of drainage -for the conveyance of the wet refuse of our houses to the sewers--so -that there are no longer (excepting in a very small portion of the -suburbs) open sewers, meandering through our highways; the consequence -is, the surface-water being carried off from our thoroughfares almost -as fast as it falls, our streets are generally dry and clean. That -there are exceptions to this rule, which are a glaring disgrace to us, -it must be candidly admitted; but we must at the same time allow, when -we think of the vast extent of the roadways of the metropolis (1760 -miles!--nearly one-half the radius of the earth itself), the deluge -of water that annually descends upon every inch of the ground which -we call London (38,000,000,000 gallons!--a quantity which is almost -sufficient for the formation of an American lake), and the vast amount -of traffic, over the greater part of the capital--the 13,000 vehicles -that daily cross London Bridge, the 11,000 conveyances that traverse -Cheapside in the course of twelve hours, the 7700 that go through -Temple Bar, and the 6900 that ascend and descend Holborn Hill between -nine in the morning and nine at night, the 1500 omnibuses and the 3000 -cabriolets that are continually hurrying from one part of the town to -another, and the 10,000 private carriage, job, and cart horses that -incessantly _perviate_ the metropolis--when we reflect, I say, on this -vast amount of traffic--this deluge of rain--and the wilderness of -streets, it cannot but be allowed that the cleansing and draining of -the London thoroughfares is most admirably conducted. - -The mode of street drainage is by means of what is called a gully-hole -and a gully-drain. - -_The Gully-hole_[63] is the opening from the surface of the street (and -is seen generally on each side of the way), into which all the fluid -refuse of the public thoroughfares runs on its course to the sewer. - -_The Gully-drain_ is a drain generally of earthenware piping, curving -from the side of the street to an opening in the top or side of the -sewer, and is the means of communication between the sewer and the -gully-hole. - -The gully-hole is indicated by an iron grate being fitted into the -surface of the side of a footpath, where the road slopes gradually -from its centre to the edge of the footpath, and down this grate the -water runs into the channel contrived for it in the construction of -the streets. These gully-grates, the observant pedestrian--if there -be a man in this hive of London who, without professional attraction -to the matter, regards for a few minutes the peculiarities of the -street (apart from the houses) which he is traversing--an observant -pedestrian, I say, would be struck at the constantly-recurring grates -in a given space in some streets, and their paucity in others. In -Drury-lane there is no gully-grate, as you walk down from Holborn to -where Drury-lane becomes Wych-street; whilst in some streets, not a -tenth of the length of Drury-lane, there may be three, four, five, -or six grates. The reason is this:--There is no sewer running down -Drury-lane; a contiguous sewer, however, runs down Great Wyld-street, -draining, where there are drains, the hundred courts and nooks of the -poor, between Drury-lane and Lincoln’s-inn-fields, as well as the more -open places leading down towards the proximity of Temple Bar. This -Great Wyld-street sewer, moreover, in its course to Fleet Bridge, is -made available for the drainage (very grievously deficient, according -to some of the reports of the Board of Health) of Clare-market. Grates -would of course be required in such a place as Drury-lane, only the -street is thought to be sufficiently on the descent to convey the -surface-water to the grate in Wych-street. - -The parts in which the gully-grates will be found the most numerous are -where the main streets are most intersected by other main streets, or -by smaller off-streets, and indeed wherever the streets, of whatever -size, continually intersect each other, as they do off nearly all -the great street-thoroughfares in the City. Although the sewers may -not be according to the plan of the streets, the gully-grates must -nevertheless be found at the street intersections, whether the nearest -point to the sewer or not, or else the water would not be quickly -carried off, and would form a nuisance. - -I am informed, on good authority, both as regards the City and -Metropolitan Commissions, that the average distance of the gully-grates -is thirty yards one from another, including both sides of the way. -Their number does not depend upon population, but simply on the local -characteristics of the highways; for of course the rain falls into all -the streets in proportion to their size, whether populous or half-empty -localities. As, however, the more distant roads have not such an -approximation of grates, and the law which requires their formation -is by no means--and perhaps, without unnecessary interference, cannot -be--very definite, I am informed that it may fairly be represented, -that, of the 1760 miles of London public ways, more than two-thirds, -“or” remarked one informant, “say 1200 miles, are grated on _each_ side -of the street or road, at distances of sixty yards.” This would give -59 gully-holes in every one of the 1200 miles of street said to be so -supplied. Hence the total number throughout the metropolis will be -70,800. - -_The gully-drain_, which is the street-drain, always presents now -a sloping curve, describing, more or less, part of a circle. This -drain starts, so to speak, from the side of the street, while its -course to the sewer, in order to economize space, is made by any most -appropriate curve, to include the reception of as great a quantity of -wet street-refuse as possible; for if the gully-drains were formed in -a direct, or even a not-very-indirect line, from the street sides to -the sewers, they would not only be more costly, more numerous, but -would, in fact, as I was told, “choke the under-ground” of London, -for now the subterranean capital is so complicated with gas, water, -and drain-pipes, that such a system as will allow room for each is -indispensable. The new system is, moreover, more economical. In the -City the gully-drains are nearly all of nine-inch diameter in tubular -pipeage. In the metropolitan jurisdiction they are the same, but not to -the same extent, some being only six inches. - -Fifty, or even thirty years ago, the old street channels for gully -drainage were costly constructions, for they were made so as to suit -sewers which were cleansed by the street being taken “up,” and the -offensive deposit, thick and even indurated as it often was in those -days, drawn to the surface. Some few were three and even four feet -square; some two feet six inches wide, and three or four feet high; -all of brick. I am assured that of the extent or cost of these old -contrivances no accounts have been preserved, but that they were more -than twice as costly as the present method. - -In all the reports I have seen, metropolitan or city--the statements -of the flushermen being to the same purport--there are complaints as -to the uses to which the gully-holes are put in many parts, every kind -of refuse admissible through the bars of the grate being stealthily -emptied down them. The paviours, if they have an opportunity, sweep -their surplus grout into the gullies, and so do the scavagers with -their refuse occasionally, though this is generally done in the -less-frequented parts, to get rid of the “slop,” which is valueless. - -In a report, published in 1851, Mr. Haywood points out the prevalence -of the practice of using the gully-gratings as dustbins! A sewer under -Billingsgate accumulated in a few months many cart-loads, composed -almost wholly of fish-shells; and 114 cart-loads of fish-shells, -cinders, and rubbish were removed from the sewers in the vicinity -of Middlesex-street (Petticoat-lane); these had accumulated in -about twelve months. “Reconstructing the gullies,” he says, “so as -to intercept improper substances (which has been recently done at -Billingsgate), might prevent this material reaching the sewers, but -it would still have to be removed from the gullies, and would thus -still cause perpetual expense. Indeed, I feel convinced that nothing -but making public example by convicting and punishing some offenders, -under clause 69 of ‘The City of London Sewers’ Act,’ will stop the -practice, so universal in the poorer localities, of using the gullies -as dustbins.” - -_The Gully-holes are now trapped_--with very few exceptions, one report -states, while another report intimates that gully-trapping has no -exception at all. The trap is resorted to so that the effluvium from -a gully-drain may not infect the air of the public ways; but among -engineers and medical sanitary inquirers, there is much difference -of opinion as to whether the system of trapping is desirable or not. -The general opinion seems to be, however, that all gullies should be -trapped. - -Of the City gully-traps, Mr. Haywood, in a report for the year 1851, -says, as regards the period of their introduction:-- - -“About seventeen years ago your then surveyor (Mr. Kelsey) applied the -first traps to sewer gullies, and from that date to the present the -trapping of gullies has been adopted as a principle, and the city of -London is still, I believe, the only metropolitan area in which the -gullies are all trapped. The traps first constructed have since been -(as all first inventions or adaptations ever have or will be) improved -upon, and are rapidly being displaced by those of more improved -construction. - -“Now, of the incompatible conditions required of gully-traps, of the -difficulty of obtaining such mechanical appliances so effective and -perfect as can _theoretically_ be devised, but yet of the extreme -desirability of obtaining them as perfect as modern science could -produce, your honourable court has, at least, for as long as I have -had the honour of holding office under you, been fully alive to; no -prejudice has opposed impediment to the introduction of novelties; your -court has been always open to inventors, and, at the present time, -there are sixteen different traps or modes of trapping gullies under -trial within your jurisdiction. - -“Nor has the provision of the means of excluding effluvium from the -atmosphere been your only care; but the cleanliness of the sewers, and -the prevention of accumulation of decomposing refuse, both by regulated -cleansings, and by constructing the sewage upon the most improved -principles, have also been your aim and that of your officers; and I -do not hesitate to assert, that the offensiveness of the escape from -the gullies has been of late years much diminished by the care bestowed -upon the condition of the sewers. - -“374 gullies have been retrapped in the City upon improved principles -during the last year.” - -The gully-traps are on the principle of self-acting valves, but it is -stated in several reports, that these valves often remain permanently -open, partly from the street refuse (especially if mixed with the -débris from new or removed buildings) not being sufficiently liquified -to pass through them, and partly from the hinges getting rusted, and so -becoming fixed. - - -OF THE LENGTH OF THE LONDON SEWERS AND DRAINS. - -There is no official account precisely defining the length of the -London sewerage; but the information acquired on the subject leaves no -doubt as to the accuracy of the following facts. - -About 900 miles of sewers of the metropolis may be said to have been -surveyed; and it is known that from 100 to 150 miles more constitute a -portion of the metropolitan sewerage; this, too, independently of that -of the City, which is 50 miles. Altogether I am assured that the sewers -of the urban part of London, included within the 58 square miles before -mentioned, measure 1100 miles. - -The classes of sewers comprised in this long extent are pretty equally -apportioned, each a third, or 366 miles, of the first, second, and -third classes respectively. Of this extent about 200 miles are -still, in the year 1852, _open_ sewers!--to say nothing of the great -open sewer, the Thames. The open sewers are found principally in -the Surrey districts, in Brixton, Lewisham, Tooting, and places at -the like distance from the more central parts of the Commissioners’ -jurisdiction. These open sewers, however, are disappearing, and it is -intended that in time no such places shall exist; as it is, some miles -of them are inclosed yearly. The open sewers in what may be considered -more of the heart of the metropolis are a portion of the Fleet-ditch in -Clerkenwell, and places in Lambeth and Bermondsey, or about 20 miles in -the interior to 180 miles in the exterior portion of the capital. These -are national disgraces. - -The 1100 miles above-mentioned, however, include only the sewers, -comprising neither the house nor gully-drains. According to the present -laws, all newly-built houses must be drained into the sewers; and in -1850 there were 5000 applications from the western districts alone to -the Commissioners, for the promotion of the drainage of that number -of old and new houses into the sewers, the old houses having been -previously drained into cesspools. - -I am assured, on good authority, that fully one-half of the houses in -the metropolis are at the present time drained into the sewers. In -one street, about a century old, containing in the portion surveyed -for an official purpose, on the two sides of the way, 76 houses, the -number was found to be equally divided--half the drainage being into -sewers and half into cesspools. The number of houses in the metropolis -proper, of 115 square miles area, is 307,722. The majority, as far -as is officially known, are now drained into the public sewers, or -into private or branch sewers communicating with the larger public -receptacles, so that--allowing 200,000 houses to be included in the 58 -square miles of the urban sewerage, and admitting that some wretched -dwelling-places are not drained at all--it is reasonable to assume that -at least 100,000 houses within this area are drained into the sewers. - -The average length of the house-drains is, I learn from the best -sources, 50 feet per house. The builder of a new house is now required -by law to drain it, at the proprietor’s cost, 100 feet, if necessary, -to a sewer. In some instances, in detached houses, where the owners -object to the cesspool system, a house drain has been carried 230 feet -to a sewer, and sometimes even farther; but in narrow or moderately -wide streets, from 18 to 26 feet across, and in alleys and narrow -places (in case there is sewerage) the house drains may be but from 12 -to 20 feet. Both these lengths of drainage are exceptions, and there -is no question that the average length may be put at 50 feet. In some -squares, for example, the sewer runs along the centre, so that the -house-drains here are in excess of the 50 feet average. - -The length of the house-drainage of the more central part of London, -assuming 100,000 houses to be drained into the sewers, and each of such -drains to be on the average 50 feet long, is, then, 5,000,000 feet, or -about 2840 miles. - -But there are still the street or gully-drains for the surface-water to -be estimated. In the Holborn and Finsbury division alone, the length -of the “main covered sewers” is said to be 83 miles; the length of -“smaller sewers” to carry off the surface-water from the streets 16 -miles; the length of drains leading from houses to the main sewers, 264. - -Now, if there be 16 miles of gully-drains to 83 miles of main covered -sewers, and the same proportion hold good throughout the 58 square -miles over which the sewers extend, it follows that there would be -about 200 miles of gully-drains to the gross 1100 miles of sewers. - -But this is only an approximate result. The length and character of the -gully-drains I find to vary very considerably. If the streets where the -gully-grates are found have no sewer in a line with the thoroughfare, -still the water must be drained off and conveyed to the nearest sewer, -of any class, large or small, and consequently at much greater length -than if there were a sewer running down the street. Neither is the -number of the gully-holes any sure criterion of the measurement of the -gully-drains, for where the intersections are, and consequently the -gully-holes frequent, a number, sometimes amounting to ten, are made to -empty their contents into the same gully-drain. Neither do the returns -of yearly expenditure, presented to Parliament by the Metropolitan -Court of Sewers, supply information. But even if the exact length, and -the exact price paid for the formation of that length, were given, -it would supply but _the year’s_ outlay as regards the additions or -repairs that had been made to the gully-drains, and certainly not -furnish us with the original cost of the whole. - -One experienced informant told me--but let me premise that I heard -from all the gentlemen whom I consulted, a statement that they could -only compute by analogy with other facts bearing upon the subject--was -confident, that taking only 1200 miles of public way as gully-drained, -that extent might be considered as the length of the gully-drains -themselves. Even calculating such drains to run from each side of the -public way, which is generally the case, I am told that, considering -the economy of underground space which is now necessary, the length of -1200 miles is as fair an estimate for gully-drainage (apart from other -drainage) as for the length of the streets so gullied. - -Hence we have, for the gross extent of the whole sewers and drains of -the metropolis, the following result,-- - - Miles. - Main covered sewers 1100 - House-drains 2840 - Gully-drains for surface-water of - streets 1200 - ---- - Total length of the sewers and - drains of the metropolis 5140 - -The island of Great Britain, I may observe, is, at its extreme -points, 550 miles from north to south, and 290 from east to west. It -would, therefore, appear that the main sewers of the capital are just -double the length of the whole island, from the English Channel to -John-o’-Groats, and nearly three times longer than the greatest width -of the country. But this is the extent of the sewerage alone. The -drainage of London is about equal in length to the diameter of the -earth itself! - - -OF THE COST OF CONSTRUCTING THE SEWERS AND DRAINS OF THE METROPOLIS. - -The money actually expended in constructing the 1100 miles of sewers -and 4000 miles of drains, even if we were only to date from Jan. 1, -1800, is not and never can be known. They have been built at intervals, -as the metropolis, so to speak, _grew_. They were built also in many -sizes and forms, and at many variations of price, according to the -depth from the surface, the good or bad management, or the greater or -lesser extent of jobbery or “patronage” in the several independent -commissions. Accounts were either not presented in “the good old -times,” or not preserved. - -Had the 1100 miles of sewers to be constructed anew, they would -be, according to the present prices paid by the Commissioners--not -including digging or such extraneous labour, but the cost of the sewer -only--as follows:-- - - 366 miles of sewers of the first - class, or 1,932,480 feet, at 15_s._ - per foot £1,449,360 - 366 miles, or 1,932,480 feet of - the second class, at 11_s._ per foot 1,062,864 - Same length of third class, at - 9_s._ per foot 869,616 - ---------- - Total cost of the sewers of the - metropolis £3,381,840 - -As this is a lower charge than was paid for the construction of more -than three-fourths of the sewers, we may fairly assume that their cost -amounted to from three millions and a half to four millions of pounds -sterling. - -The majority of the house-drains running into the sewers are brick, and -seldom less than 9 inches square; sometimes, in the old brick drains, -they are some inches larger, and in the very old drains, and in some -100 years old, wooden planks were often used instead of a brick or -stone construction, for the sake of reducing cost, and replaced when -rotted. The wood, in many cases, soon decayed, and since 1847 no wooden -sewers have been allowed to be formed, nor any old ones to be repaired -with new wood; the work must be of stone or brick, if not pipeage. -About two-thirds of the drains running from the houses to the sewers -are brick; the remaining third tubular, or earthenware pipes. The cost, -if now to be formed, would be somewhat as follows:-- - - 1893-1/3 miles of brick drains, 5_s._ - per foot, as average of sizes £2,499,200 - 945-2/3 feet of tubular drains, average - of sizes 2_s._ 6_d._ 624,800 - ----------- - Total cost of the house-drains of - London £3,124,000 - -The cost of the street or gully drains have still to be estimated. - -The present cost of the 9-inch gully-pipe drains is about 3_s._ 6_d._ a -foot; of the 6-inch, 2_s._ 6_d._ Of the proportionate lengths of these -two classes of street-drains I have not been able to gain any account, -for, I believe, it has never been ascertained in any way approaching -to a total return. Taking 1200 miles, however, as quite within the -full length of the gully-drains, and calculating at the low average of -3_s._ the foot for the whole, the total cost of the street-drains of -the metropolis would be 950,400_l._, or, I am assured, one might say a -million sterling, and this, even if all were done at the present low -prices; the original cost would, of course, have been much greater. - -Hence, according to the above calculations, we have the following - - -_Gross Estimate of the Cost of the Sewers and Drains of the Metropolis._ - - £ - 1100 miles of main covered sewers 3,500,000 - 2840 miles of house-drains 3,000,000 - 1200 miles of gully or street drains 1,000,000 - ---- --------- - 5140 miles of sewers and drainage = 7,500,000 - - -OF THE USES OF SEWERS AS A MEANS OF SUBSOIL DRAINAGE. - -There is one other purpose toward which a sewer is available--a -purpose, too, which I do not remember to have seen specified in the -Metropolitan Reports. - -“The first, and perhaps most important purpose of sewers, as respects -health,” says the Report of Messrs. Walker, Cubitt, and Brunel -(1848), “is, _as under-drains to the surrounding earth_. They answer -this purpose so effectually and quietly, and have done it so long, -that their importance in this respect is overlooked. In the Sanitary -Commissioners’ Reports we do not find it once noticed, and the -recommendation of the substitution of stone or earthenware pipes for -the larger brick sewers, seems to show, that any provision for the -_under-drainage_ was thought unnecessary, although such a provision is -in our opinion most important. - -“Under the artificial ground, the collection of ages, which in the -City of London, as in most ancient towns, forms the upper surface, is -a considerable thickness of clean gravel, and under the gravel is the -London clay. The present houses are founded chiefly on the artificial -or ‘made ground,’ while the sewers are made through the gravel; and -it is known practically, that however charged with water the gravel -of a district may be, the springs for a considerable distance round -are drawn down by making a sewer, and the wells that had water within -a few feet of the surface have again to be sunk below the bottom of -the sewer to reach the water. Every interstice between the stones of -the gravel acts as an under-drain to conduct the water to the sewer, -through the sides of which it finds its way, even if mortar be used in -the construction. - -“Hence the salubrity of a gravel foundation, if the water be drawn -out of it by sewers or other means, as is the case with the City and -with Westminster. A proof of this principle was afforded by the result -of a reference to physicians and engineers in 1838, to inquire into -the state of drainage and smells in and near Buckingham Palace, as to -which there had been complaints, though none so heavy as Mr. Phillips -now makes, when he says, ‘that the drainage of Buckingham Palace is -extremely defective, and that its precincts are reeking with filth and -pestilential odours from the absence of proper sewerage!’” - -The Report then shows the pains that were taken to ensure dryness in -the Palace. Pits were dug in the garden 14 feet below the surface, and -3-1/2 feet below high-water mark in the river, and they were found dry -to the bottom. The kitchens and yard of the palace are, however, only -18 inches above Trinity high-water mark in the Thames, and therefore -18 inches below a very high tide. The physician, Sir James Clarke, and -the engineers, Messrs. Simpson and Walker, in a separate Report, spoke -in terms of commendation of the drainage of the Palace in 1838, as -promotive of dryness. Since that time a connecting chain has been made -from the Palace drains into the canal in St. James’s-park, to prevent -the wet from rising as formerly during heavy rains. “The Palace,” it -is stated in the Report of the three engineers, “should not be classed -with the low part of Pimlico, where the drainage is, we believe, very -defective, and to which, for anything we know to the contrary, the -character given by Mr. Phillips may be applicable.” - -Unfortunately, however, for this array of opinions of high authority, -and despite the advantages of a gravel bed for the substratum of the -palatial sewerage, the drainage and sewerage about Buckingham Palace -is more frequently than that of any other public place under repair, -and is always requiring attention. It was only a few days ago, before -the court left Windsor Castle for London, that men were employed night -and day, on the drains and cesspoolage channels, to make, as one of -them described it to me--and such working-men’s descriptions are often -forcible--“the place _decent_. I was hardly ever,” he added, “in such a -set of stinks as I’ve been in the sewers and underground parts of the -palace.” - - -OF THE CITY SEWERAGE. - -As yet I have spoken only of the sewers of London[64] “without the -City;” but the sewers within the City, though connected, for the -general public drainage and sewerage of the capital, with the works -under the control of the Metropolitan Commissioners, are in a distinct -and strictly defined jurisdiction, superintended by City Commissioners, -and managed by City officers, and consequently demand a special notice. - - -The account of the City sewers, however, may be given with a -comparative brevity, for the modes of their construction, as well as -their general management, do not differ from what I have described as -pertaining to the extra-civic metropolis. There are, nevertheless, a -few distinctions which it is proper to point out. - -The City sewers are the oldest in the capital, for the very plain -reason that the City itself, in its site, if not now in its public and -private buildings, is the oldest part of London, as regards the abode -of a congregated body of people. - -The ages (so to speak) of these sewers, vary, for the most part, -according to the dates of the City’s rebuilding after the Great Fire, -and according to the dates of the many alterations, improvements, -removal or rebuilding of new streets, markets, &c., which have been -effected since that period. Before the Great Fire of 1666, all drainage -seems, with a few exceptions, to have been fortuitous, unconnected, and -superficial. - -The _first_ public sewer built after this important epoch in the -history of London was in Ludgate-street and hill. This was the laudable -work of the Dean and Chapter of St. Paul’s, and was constructed at the -instance, it is said, and after the plans, of Sir Christopher Wren. -There is, perhaps, no official or documentary proof of this, for the -proclamations from the King in council, the Acts of Parliament, and the -resolutions of the Corporation of the City of London at that important -period, are so vague and so contradictory, and were so frequently -altered or abrogated, and so frequently disregarded, that it is more -impossible than difficult to get at the truth. Of the fact which I have -just mentioned, however, there need be no doubt; nor that the _second_ -public City sewer was in Fleet-street, commenced in 1668, the second -year after the fire. - -There are, nevertheless, older sewers than this, but the dates of their -construction are not known; we have proof merely that they existed in -old London, or as it was described by an anonymous writer (quoted, if -I remember rightly, in Maitland’s “History of London”), London “_ante -ignem_”--London before the fire. These sewers, or rather portions of -sewers, are severally near Newgate, St. Bartholomew’s Hospital sewer, -and that of the Irongate by the Tower. - -The sewer, however, which may be pointed out as the most remarkable is -that of Little Moorgate, London-wall. It is formed of red tiles; and -from such being its materials, and from the circumstance of some Roman -coins having been found near it, it is supposed by some to be of Roman -construction, and of course coeval with that people’s possession of the -country. This sewer has a flat bottom, upright sides, and a circular -arch at its top; it is about 5 feet by 3 feet. The other older sewers -present much about the same form; and an Act in the reign of Charles -II. directs that sewers shall be so built, but that the bottom shall -have a circular curve. - -I am informed by a City gentleman--one taking an interest in such -matters--that this sewer has troubled the repose of a few civic -antiquaries, some thinking that it was a Roman sewer, while others -scouted such a notion, arguing that the Romans were not in the habit -of doing their work by halves; and that if they had sewered London, -great and enduring remains would have been discovered, for their main -sewer would have been a solid construction, and directed to the Thames, -as was and is the Cloaca Maxima, in the Eternal City, to the Tiber. -Others have said that the sewer in question was merely built of Roman -materials, perhaps first discovered about the time, having originally -formed a reservoir, tank, or even a bath, and were keenly appropriated -by some economical or scheming builder or City official. - -“That the Britons,” says Tacitus in his “Life of Agricola,” “who led -a roaming life, and were easily incited to war, might contract a love -for peace, by being accustomed to a pleasanter mode of life, Agricola -assisted them to build houses, temples, and market-places. By praising -the diligent and upbraiding the idle, he excited such emulation among -the Britons, that, after they had erected all those necessary buildings -in their towns, they built others for pleasure and ornament, as -porticoes, galleries, _baths_, and banqueting-houses.” - -The sewers of the city of London are, then, a comparatively modern -work. Indeed, three-fourths of them may be called modern. The earlier -sewers were--as I have described under the general head--ditches, which -in time were arched over, but only gradually and partially, as suited -the convenience or the profit of the owners of property alongside -those open channels, some of which thus presented the appearance of -a series of small uncouth-looking bridges. When these bridges had to -be connected so as to form the summit of a continuous sewer, they -presented every variety of arch, both at their outer and under sides; -those too near the surface had to be lowered. Some of these sewers, -however, were in the first instances connected, despite difference -of size and irregularity of form. The result may be judged from the -account I have given of the strange construction of some of the -Westminster sewers, under the head of “subterranean survey.” - -How modern the City sewers are may best be estimated from the following -table of what may be called the dates of their construction. The -periods are given decennially as to the progress of the formation of -_new_ sewers:-- - - Feet. - 1707 to 1717 2,805 - 1717 „ 1727 2,110 - 1727 „ 1737 2,763 - 1737 „ 1747 1,238 - 1747 „ 1757 3,736 - 1757 „ 1767 3,736 - 1767 „ 1777 7,597 - 1777 „ 1787 8,693 - 1787 „ 1797 3,118 - 1797 „ 1807 5,116 - 1807 „ 1817 5,097 - 1817 „ 1827 7,847 - ------- - 52,810 - - 1827 to 1837 39,072 feet. - 1837 to 1847 88,363 „ - ------- - 127,435 - -Thus the length made in the 20 years previous to 1847 was more than -double all that was made during the preceding 120 years; while in the -ten years from 1837 to 1847, the addition to the lineal extent of -sewerage was very nearly equal to all that had been made in 130 years -previously. - -This addition of 127,435 feet, or rather more than 24 miles, seems but -a small matter when “London” is thought of; but the reader must be -reminded that only a small portion (comparatively) of the metropolis -is here spoken of, and the entire length of the City sewerage, at the -close of 1847, was but 44 miles; so that the additions I have specified -as having been made since 1837, were more than one-half of the whole. -The _re_-constructions are not included in the metage I have given, -for, as the new sewers generally occupied the same site as the old, -they did not add to the length of the whole. - -The total length of the City sewerage was, on the 31st December, 1851, -no less than 49 miles; while the entire public way was at the same -recent period, 51 miles (containing about 1000 separate and distinct -streets, lanes, courts, alleys, &c., &c.); and I am assured that in -another year or so, not a furlong of the whole City will be unsewered. - -The more ancient sewers usually have upright walls, a flat or -slightly-curved invert, and a semicircular or gothic arch. The form of -such as have been built apparently more than 20 years ago, is that of -two semicircles, of which the upper has a greater radius, connected by -sloping side walls; those of recent construction are egg-shaped. The -main lines are not unfrequently elliptic; in the case of the Fleet, -and other ancient affluents of the Thames, the forms and dimensions -vary considerably. Instances occur of sewers built entirely of stone; -but the material is almost invariably brick, most commonly 9 inches in -substance; the larger sewers 14, and sometimes 18 inches. - -The falls or inclinations in the course of the City sewerage vary -greatly, as much as from 1 in 240 to 1 in 24, or, in the first case, -from a fall of 22 feet, in the latter, of course, to ten times such -fall, or 220 feet per mile. There are, moreover, a few cases in which -the inclination is as small as 1 in 960; others where it is as high as -1 in 14. This irregularity is to be accounted for, partly by the want -of system in the old times, and partly from the natural levels of the -ground. The want of system and the indifference shown to providing a -proper fall, even where it was not difficult, was more excusable a few -years back than it would be at the present time, for when some of these -sewers were built, the drainage of the house-refuse into them was not -contemplated. - -The number of houses drained into the City sewers is, as precisely -as such a matter can be ascertained, 11,209; the number drained into -the cesspools is 5030. This shows a preponderance of drainage into -the sewers of 6179. The length of the house-drains in the City, at an -average of 50 feet to each house, may be estimated at upwards of 106 -miles. These City drains are included in the general computation of the -metropolis. - -The gully-drains in the City are more frequent than in other parts -of the metropolis, owing to the continual intersection of streets, -&c., and perhaps from a closer care of the sewerage and all matters -connected with it. The general average of the gully-drains I have -shown to be 59 for every mile of street. I am assured that in the -City the street-drains may be safely estimated at 65 to the mile. -Estimating the streets gullied within the City, then, at an average -of 50 miles, or about a mile more than the sewers, the number of -gully-drains is 3250, and the length of them about 50 miles; but these, -like the house-drains, have been already included in the metropolitan -enumeration. - -The actual sum expended yearly upon the construction, and repairs, -and improvements of the City sewers cannot be cited as a distinct -item, because the Court makes the return of the aggregate annual -expenditure, as regards pavement, cleansing, and the matters specified -as the general expenditure under the Court of Commissioners of the City -Sewers. The cost, however, of the construction of sewers comprised -within the civic boundaries is included in the general metropolitan -estimate before given. - - -OF THE OUTLETS, RAMIFICATIONS, ETC., OF THE SEWERS. - -In this enumeration I speak only of the _public_ outlets into the -river, controlled and regulated by public officers. - -The orifices or mouths of the sewers where they discharge themselves -into the Thames, beginning from their eastern, and following them -seriatim to their western extremity, are as follows:-- - - Limehouse Hole. - Irongate Wharf. - Ratcliffe Cross. - Fox-lane, Shadwell. - London Dock. - St. Katharine’s Dock. - The eleven City outlets, which I shall specify hereafter. - Essex-street, Strand. - Norfolk-street, Strand. - Durham Hill (or Adelphi). - Northumberland-street. - Scotland-yard. - Bridge-street, Westminster. - Pimlico. - Cubitt’s (also in Pimlico). - Chelsea Bridge. - Fulham Bridge. - Hammersmith Bridge. - Sandford Bridge (into a sort of creek of the Thames), or near the four bridges. - Twickenham. - Hampton. - In all, 32. - -It might only weary the reader to enumerate the outlets on the Surrey -side of the Thames, which are 28 in number, so that the public sewer -outlets of the whole metropolis are 60 in all. - -The public sewer outlets from the City of London into the Thames -are, as I have said, eleven in number, or rather they are usually -represented as eleven, though in reality there are twelve such -orifices--the “Upper” and “Eastern” Custom-House Sewers (which are -distinct) being computed as one. These outlets, generally speaking the -most ancient in the whole metropolis, are-- - - London Bridge. - Ancient Walbrook. - Paul’s Wharf. - The Fleet-street Sewer at Blackfriars Bridge. - (I mention these four first, because they are the largest outlets). - Tower Dock. - Pool Quay. - Custom House. - New Walbrook. - Dowgate Dock. - Hamburg Wharf. - Puddle Dock. - -Until recently, there was also Whitefriars Docks, but this is now -attached to the Fleet Sewer outlet. - -The Fleet Sewer is the oldest in London. No portion of the ditch or -river composing it is now uncovered within the jurisdiction of the -City; but until a little more than eleven years ago a portion of it, -north of Holborn, was uncovered, and had been uncovered for years. -Indeed, as I have before intimated, barges and small craft were -employed on the Fleet River, and the City determined to “encourage its -navigation.” Even the “polite” Earl of Chesterfield, a century ago -(for his lordship was born in 1694, and died in 1773), when asked by a -Frenchman in Paris, if there was in London a river to compare to the -Seine? replied that there certainly was, and it was called Fleet Ditch! -This is now the sewer; but it was not a covered sewer until 1765, when -the Corporation ordered it to be built over. - -The next oldest sewer outlet is that at London Bridge, and London -antiquaries are not agreed as to whether it or the Fleet is the oldest. - -The Fleet Sewer at Blackfriars Bridge is 18 feet high; between -Tudor-street and Fleet Bridge (about the foot of Ludgate-hill), 14 feet -3 inches high; at Holborn Bridge, 13 feet; and in its continuation in -the long-unfinished Victoria-street, 12 feet 3 inches. In all these -localities it is 12 feet wide. - -The New London Bridge Sewer, built or rebuilt, wholly or partly, in -1830, is 10 feet by 8 at its outlet; decreasing to the south end of -King William-street, where it is 9 feet by 7; while it is 8 feet by 7 -in Moorgate-street. - -Paul’s Wharf sewer is 7 feet 6 inches by 5 feet 6 inches near the -outlet. - -With the one exception of the Fleet River, none of the City sewer -outlets are covered, the Fleet outlet being covered even at low water. -The issue from the others runs in open channels upon the shore. - -Mr. Haywood (February 12, 1850), in a report of the City Sewer -Transactions and Works, observes,--“During the year (1849) the outlet -sewers at Billingsgate and Whitefriars, two of the outlets of main -sewers which discharged at the line of the River Wall, have been -diverted (times of storm excepted); there remain, therefore, but -eleven main outlets within the jurisdiction of this commission, which -discharge their waters at the line of the River Wall. - -“As a temporary measure, it is expedient to convey the sewage of -the whole of the outlets within the City by covered culverts, below -low-water mark; this subject has been under the consideration both of -this Commission and the Navigation Committee.” - -Whether the covered culvert is better than the open run, is a matter -disputed among engineers (as are very many other matters connected with -sewerage), and one into which I need not enter. - -Mr. Haywood says further:--“The Fleet sewer already discharges its -average flow, by a culvert, below low-water mark; with one exception -only, I believe, none of the numerous outlets, which, for a length of -many miles, discharge at intervals into the Thames at the line of the -River Wall, both within and without your jurisdiction, discharge by -culverts in a similar manner.” - -These eleven outlets are far from being the whole number which give -their contents into “the silver bosom of the Thames,” along the -bank-line of the City jurisdiction. There are (including the 11) 182 -outlets; but these are not under the control (unless in cases of -alteration, nuisance, &c.) of the Court of Sewers. They are the outlets -from the drainage of the wharfs, public buildings, or manufactories -(such as gas-works, &c.) on the banks of the river; and the right to -form such outlets having been obtained from the Navigation Committee, -who, under the Lord Mayor, are conservators of the Thames, the care of -them is regarded as a private matter, and therefore does not require -further notice in this work. The officers of the City Court of Sewers -observe these outlets in their rounds of inspection, but interfere -only on application from any party concerned, unless a nuisance be in -existence. - -To convey a more definite notion of the extent and ramified sweep of -the sewers, I will now describe (for the first time in print) some -of the chief _Sewer Ramifications_, and then show the proportionate -or average number of public ways, of inhabited houses, and of the -population to each great main sewer, distinguishing, in this instance, -those as _great main sewers_ which have an outlet into the Thames. - -The reader should peruse the following accounts with the assistance -of a map of the environs, for, thus aided, he will be better able to -form a definite notion of the curiously-mixed and blended extent of the -sewerage already spoken of. - -First, then, as to the ramifications of the great and ancient Fleet -outlet. From its mouth, so to speak, near Blackfriars Bridge, its -course is not parallel with any public way, but, running somewhat -obliquely, it crosses below Tudor-street into Bridge-street, -Blackfriars, then occupies the centre of Farringdon-street, and -that street’s prolongation or intended prolongation into the New -Victoria-street (the houses in this locality having been pulled down -long ago, and the spot being now popularly known as “the ruins”), -and continues until the City portion of the Fleet Sewer meets the -Metropolitan jurisdiction between Saffron and Mutton hills, the -junction, so to call it, being “under the houses”[65] (a common phrase -among flushermen). A little farther on it connects itself with an -open part of the Fleet Ditch, running at the back of Turnmill-street, -Clerkenwell. In its City course, the sewer receives the issue from 150 -public ways (including streets, alleys, courts, lanes, &c.), which -are emptied into it from the second, third, or smaller class sewers, -from Ludgate-hill and its proximate streets, the St. Paul’s locality, -Fleet-street and its adjacent communications in public ways, with -a series of sewers running down from parts of Smithfield, &c. The -_greatest_ accession of sewage, however, which the Fleet receives from -_one_ issue, is a few yards beyond where the City has merged into the -Metropolitan jurisdiction; this accession is from a first-class sewer, -known as “the Whitecross-street sewer,” because running from that -street, and carrying into the Fleet the contributions of 60 crowded -streets. - -After the junction of the covered City sewer with the uncovered ditch -in Clerkenwell, the Fleet-river sewer (again covered) skirts round Cold -Bath Fields Prison (the Middlesex House of Correction), runs through -Clerkenwell-green into the Bagnigge Wells-road, so on to Battle-bridge -and King’s-cross; then along the Old Saint Pancras-road, and thence -to the King’s-road (a name now almost extinct), where the St. Pancras -Workhouse stands close by the turnpike-gate. Along Upper College-street -(Camden-town) is then the direction of this great sewer, and running -_under_ the canal at the higher part of Camden-town, near the bridge -by the terminus of the Great North Western Railway, it branches into -the highways and thoroughfares of Kentish-town, of Highgate, and of -Hampstead, respectively, and then, at what one informant described as -“the outside” of those places, receives the open ditches, which form -the further sewerage, under the control of the Commissioners, who cause -them to be cleansed regularly. - -In order to show more consecutively the direction, from place to place, -in straight, devious, or angular course, of this the most remarkable -sewer of the world, considering the extent of the drainage into it, I -have refrained from giving beyond the Whitecross-street connection with -the Fleet, an account of the number of streets sewered into this old -civic stream. I now proceed to supply the deficiency. - -From a large outlet at Clerkenwell-green (a very thickly-built -neighbourhood) flows the connected sewage of 100 streets. At -Maiden-lane, beyond King’s-cross, a district which is now being built -upon for the purposes of the Great Northern Railway, the sewage of -10 streets is poured into it. In the course of this sewer along -Camden-town, it receives the issue of some 20 branches, or 40 streets, -&c. About 15 other issues are received before the open ditches of -Kentish-town, Highgate, and Hampstead are encountered. - -It is not, however, merely the sewage collected in the precincts of -the City proper, which is “outletted” (as I heard a flusherman call -it) into the Thames. Other districts are drained into the large City -outlets nearing the river. “Many of your works,” says Mr. Haywood, -the City surveyor, in a report addressed to the City Commissioners, -Oct. 23, 1849, “have been beneficially felt by districts some miles -distant from the City. Twenty-nine outlets have been provided by you -for the sewage of the County of Middlesex; the high land of and about -Hampstead, drains through the Fleet sewer; Holloway and a portion of -Islington can now be drained by the London Bridge sewer; Norton Folgate -and the densely-populated districts adjacent are also relieved by it.” - -On the other hand, the Irongate sewer (one of the most important), -which has its outlet in the Tower Hamlets, drains a portion of the City. - -The reader must bear in mind, also, that were he to traverse the Fleet -sewer in the direction described--for all the men I conversed with on -the subject, if asked to show the course of sewerage with which they -were familiar, began _from_ the outlet into the Thames--the reader, I -say, must remember that he would be advancing all the way _against_ the -stream, in a direction in which he would find the sewage flowing onward -to its mouth, while his course would be towards its sources. - -On the left-hand side (for the account before given refers only to the -right-hand side) proceeding in the same direction, after passing the -underground precincts of the City proper, there is another addition -near Saffron-hill, of the sewage of 30 streets; then at Gray’s-inn-road -is added the sewage of 100 streets; New-road (at King’s-cross), 20 -more streets; from the whole of Somers-town, a populous locality, -the sewerage concentrating all the busy and crowded places round -about “the Brill,” &c., the sewage of 120 streets is received; and at -Pratt-street, Camden-town, 12 other streets. - -Thus into this sewage-current, directed to one final outlet, are -drained the refuse of 517 streets, including, of course, a variety of -minor thoroughfares, courts, alleys, &c., &c., as in the neighbourhoods -of Gray’s-inn-road, in Clerkenwell, Somers-town, &c. Some of these -tributaries to the efflux of the sewage are “barrel-drains,” but -perform the function of sewers along small courts, where there is “no -thoroughfare” either _upon_, or _below_ the surface. - -The London Bridge sewer runs up King William-street to Moorgate-street, -along Finsbury-square into the City-road, diverging near the -Wharf-road, which it crosses _under_ the canal near the Wenlock basin, -and thence along the Lower-road, Islington, by Cock-lane, through -Highbury-vale; after this, at the extremity of Holloway, the open -ditches, as in the former instance, carry on the conveyance of sewage -from the outer suburbs. - -The King’s Scholars’ Pond Sewer--which seems to have given the -Commissioners more trouble than any other, in its connection -with Buckingham Palace, St. James’s Park, and the new Houses of -Parliament--runs from Chelsea-bridge past Cubitt’s workshops, and along -the King’s-road to Eaton-square, the whole of which is drained into it; -then “turning round,” as one man described it, it approaches Buckingham -Palace, which, with its grounds, as well as a portion of St. James’s -and the Green parks, is drained into this sewer; then branching away -for the reception of the sewage from the houses and gardens of Chelsea, -it drains Sloane-street, and, crossing the Knightsbridge-road, runs -through or across Hyde-park to the Swan at Bayswater, whence its course -is by the Westbourne District and under the canal, along Paddington, -until it attains the open country, or rather the grounds, in that -quarter, which have been very extensively and are now still being built -over, and where new sewers are constructed simultaneously with new -streets. - -Thus in the “reach,” as I heard it happily enough designated, of each -of these great sewers, the reader will see from a map the extent of the -subterranean metropolis traversed, alike along crowded streets ringing -with the sounds of traffic, among palatial and aristocratic domains, -and along the parks which adorn London, as well as winding their -ramifying course among the courts, alleys, and teeming streets, the -resorts of misery, poverty, and vice. - -Estimating, then, the number of sewers from the number of their river -outlets, and regarding all the rest as the branches, or tributaries, -to each of these superior streams, we have, adopting the area before -specified as being drained by the metropolitan sewers, viz., 58 square -miles, the following results:-- - -Each of the 60 sewers having an outlet into the Thames drains 618 -statute acres. - -And assuming the number of houses included within these 58 square -miles to be 200,000, and the population to amount to 1,500,000, or -two-thirds of the houses and people included in the Registrar-General’s -Metropolis, we may say that each of the 60 sewers would carry into the -Thames the refuse from 25,000 individuals and 3333 inhabited houses. -This, however, is partly prevented by the cesspoolage system, which -supplies receptacles for a proportion of the refuse that, were London -to be rebuilt according to the provisions of the present Building and -Sanitary Acts, would _all_ be carried, without any interception, into -the river Thames by the media of the sewers. - -In my account of cesspoolage I shall endeavour to show the extent of -fæcal refuse, &c., contained in places not communicating with the -sewers, and to be removed by the labour of men and horses, as well as -the amount of fæcal refuse carried into the sewerage. - - -OF THE QUALITIES, ETC., OF THE SEWAGE. - -The question of the value, the uses, and the best means of collecting -for use, the great mass of the sewage of the metropolis, seems to have -become complicated by the statements which have been of late years put -forth by rival projectors and rival companies. In our smaller country -towns, the neighbourhood of many being remarkable for fertility and for -a green beauty of meadow-land and pasturage, the refuse of the towns, -whether sewage or cesspoolage (if not washed into a current, stream, -or river), is purchased by the farmers, and carted by them to spread -upon the land. - -By _sewage_, I mean the contents of the _sewerage_, or of the series -of sewers; which neither at present nor, I believe, at any former -period, has been applied to any useful or profitable purpose by the -metropolitan authorities. The readiest mode to get rid of it, without -any care about ultimate consequences, has always been resorted to, and -that mode has been to convey it into the Thames, and leave the rest to -the current of the stream. But the Thames has its ebbs as well as its -flow, and the consequence is the sewage is _never_ got rid of. - -The most eminent of our engineers have agreed that it is a very -important consideration how this sewage should be not only innocuously -but profitably disposed of; and if not profitably, in an immediate -money return, to those who may be considered its owners (the municipal -authorities of the kingdom), at least profitably in a national point of -view, by its use in the restoration or enrichment of the fertility of -the soil, and the consequent increase of the food of man and beast. - -Sir George Staunton has pronounced some of the tea-growing parts of -China to be as blooming as an English nobleman’s flower-garden. Every -jot of manure, human ordure, and all else, is minutely collected, even -by the poorest. - -I have already given a popular account of the composition of the -metropolitan sewage, &c. (under the head of Wet Refuse), and I now give -its scientific analysis. - -In some districts the sewage is more or less liquid--in what proportion -has not been ascertained--and I give, in the first place, an analysis -of the sewage of the King’s Scholars’ Pond Sewer, Westminster, the -result having been laid before a Committee of the House of Commons. -As the contents of the great majority of sewers _must_ be the same, -because resulting from the same natural or universally domestic -causes (as in the refuse of cookery, washing, surface-water, &c.), -the analysis of the sewage of the King’s Scholars’ Pond Sewer may be -accepted as one of sewer-matter generally. - -Evidence was given before the committee as to the proportion of -“land-drainage _water_” to what was really _manure_, in the matter -derived from the sewer in question. A produce of 140 grains of manure -was derived from a gallon of sewer-water. Messrs. Brande and Cooper, -the analyzers, also state that one gallon (10 lbs.?) of the liquid -portion of the sewage, evaporated to dryness, gave 85·3 grains of solid -matter, 74·8 grains of which was again soluble, and contained-- - - Ammonia 3·29 - Sulphuric acid 0·62 - Phosphate of lime 0·29 - Lime 6·25 - Chlorine 10·00 - -“and potass and soda, with a large quantity of soluble and vegetable -matter, and 10·54 insoluble.” - -This insoluble portion consisted of - - Phosphate of lime 2·32 - Carbonate of lime 1·94 - Silica 6·28 - ----- - 10·54 - -The deposit from another gallon weighed 55 grains, of which 21·22 were -combustible, being composed of animal matter “rich in nitrogen,” some -vegetable matter, and a quantity of fat. Of this matter 33·75 grains -consisted of - - Phosphate of lime 6·81 - Oxide of iron 2·01 - Carbonate of lime 1·75 - Sulphate of lime 1·53 - Earthy matter and sand 21·65 - ----- - 33·75 - -Other Reports and other evidence show that what is described as “earthy -matter and sand” is the mac, mud, and the mortar or concrete used -in pavement, washed from the surface of the streets into the sewers -by heavy rains; otherwise for the most part the proper load of the -scavager’s cart. - -Further analyses might be adduced, but with merely such variation in -the result as is inevitable from the state of the weather when the -sewage is drawn forth for examination; whether the day on which this is -done happens to be dry or wet[66]. - -It has been ascertained, but the exact proportion is not, and perhaps -cannot be, given, that the extent of covered to uncovered surface in -the district drained by the King’s Scholars’ Pond Sewer was as 3 to 1, -while that of the Ranelagh Sewer, not far distant, was as 1 to 3, at -the time of the inquiry (1848). - -“It could not be expected, therefore,” says the Report, “that the -Ranelagh Sewer (which, moreover, is open to the admission of the tide -at its mouth), in the quantity or quality of the manure produced, could -bear any proportion to the King’s Scholars’ Pond Sewer.” - -Mr. Smith, of Deanston, stated in evidence, that the average quantity -of rain falling into King’s Scholars’ Pond Sewer was 139,934,586 cubic -feet in a year, and he assumes 6,000,000 tons as the amount of average -minimum quantity of drainage (yearly), yielding 4 cwt. of solid matter -in each 100 tons = 1 in 500. - -Dr. Granville said, on the same inquiry, that he should be sorry to -receive on his land 500 tons of diluted sewer water (such as that from -the uncovered Ranelagh Sewer) for 1 ton of really fertilizing sewage, -such as that to be derived from the King’s Scholars’ Pond Sewer. - -I could easily multiply these analyses, and give further parliamentary -or official statements, but, as the results are the same, I will merely -give some extracts from the evidence of Dr. Arthur Hassall, as to the -microscopic constituents of sewage-water:-- - -“I have examined,” he said, “the sewer-water of several of the -principal sewers of London. I found in it, amongst many other things, -much decomposing vegetable matter, portions of the husks and the hairs -of the down of wheat, the cells of the potato, cabbage, and other -vegetables, while I detected but few forms of animal life, those -encountered for the most part being a kind of worm or anælid, and a -certain species of animalcule of the genus monas.” - -“How do you account,” the Doctor was asked, “for the comparative -absence of animal life in the water of most sewers?” “It is, doubtless, -to be attributed,” he replied, “in a great measure, to the large -quantity of sulphuretted hydrogen contained in sewer-water, and which -is continually being evolved by the decomposing substances included in -it.” - -“Have you any evidence to show that sewer-water does contain -sulphuretted hydrogen in such large quantity as to be prejudicial and -even fatal to animal life?” “With a view of determining this question, -I made the following experiments:--A given quantity of Thames water, -known to contain living infusoria, was added to an equal quantity of -sewer-water; examined a few minutes afterwards, the animalculæ were -found to be either dead or deprived of locomotive power and in a dying -state. A small fish, placed in a wine glass of sewer-water, immediately -gave signs of distress, and, after struggling violently, floated on its -side, and would have perished in a few seconds, had it not been removed -and placed in fresh water. A bird placed in a glass bell-jar, into -which the gas evolved by the sewer-water was allowed to pass, after -struggling a good deal, and showing other symptoms of the action of the -gas, suddenly fell on its side, and, although immediately removed into -fresh air, was found to be dead. These experiments were made, in the -first instance, with the sewer water of the Friar-street sewer (near -the Blackfriars-road); they were afterwards repeated with the water -of six other sewers on the Middlesex side, and with the same result, -as respects the animalculæ and fish, but not the bird; this, although -evidently much affected by the noxious emanations of the sewer-water, -yet survived the experiment.” - -“Would you infer from these experiments that sewer-water, as contained -in the Thames near to London, is prejudicial to health?” “I would, most -decidedly; and regard the Thames in the neighbourhood of the metropolis -as nothing less than diluted sewer-water.” - -“You have just stated that you found sewer-water to contain much -vegetable matter, and but few forms of animal life; the vegetable -matter you recognised, I presume, by the character of the cells -composing the several vegetable tissues?” “Yes, as also by the action -of iodine on the starch of the vegetable matter.” - -“In what way do you suppose these various vegetable cells, the husks of -wheat, &c., reach the sewers?” “They doubtless proceed from the fæcal -matter contained in sewage, and not in general from the ordinary refuse -of the kitchen, which usually finds its way into the dust-bin.” - -“Sewer-water, then, although containing but few forms of animal life, -yet contains, in large quantities, the food upon which most animalculæ -feed?” “Yes; and it is this circumstance which explains the vast -abundance of infusorial life in the water of the Thames within a few -miles of London.” - -The same gentleman (a fellow of the Linnæan Society, and the author of -“A History of the British Fresh-water Algæ,” or water-weeds considered -popularly), in answer to the following inquiries in connection with -this subject, also said:-- - -“What species of infusoria represent the _highest_ degree of impurity -in water?” “The several species of the genera _Oxytricha_ and -_Paramecium_.” - -“What species is most abundant in the Thames from Kew Bridge to -Woolwich?” “The _Paramecium Chrysalis_ of Ehrenberg; this occurs in -all seasons of the year, and in all conditions of the river, in vast -and incalculable numbers; so much so, that a quart bottle of Thames -water, obtained in any condition of the tide, is sure to be found, on -examination with the microscope, to contain these creatures in great -quantity.” - -“Do you find that the infusorium of which you have spoken varies in -number in the different parts of the river between Kew Bridge and -Woolwich?” “I find that it is most abundant in the neighbourhood of the -bridges.” [Where the outlet of the sewers is common.] - -“Then the order of impurity of Thames water, in your view, would be the -order in which it approaches the centre of London?” “Yes.” - -“You find then, in Thames water, about the bridges, things decidedly -connected with the _sewer water_, as vegetable and animal matter -in a state of decomposition?” “I do; about the bridges, and in the -neighbourhood of London, there is very little living vegetable matter -on which animalculæ could live; the only source of supply which they -have is _the organic matter contained in sewer-water_, and which is to -be regarded as the food of these creatures. Where infusoria abound, -under circumstances _not_ connected with sewage, vegetable matter in a -living condition is certain to be met with.” - -Respecting the _uses of the sewage_, I may add the following brief -observations. Without wishing in any way to prejudice the question -(indeed the reader will bear in mind that I have all along spoken -reprovingly of the waste of sewage), I am bound to say that the -opinions I heard during my inquiry from gentlemen scientifically and, -in some instances, practically familiar with the subject, concurred in -the conclusion that the _sewage_ of the metropolis cannot, with all -the applications of scientific skill and apparatus, be made either -sufficiently portable or efficacious for the purposes of manure to -assure a proper pecuniary return. In this matter, perhaps, speculators -have not traced a sufficient distinction between the liquid manure of -the sewers and the “_poudrette_,” or dry manure, manufactured from the -more solid excrementitious matter of the cesspools, not only in Paris, -but, until lately, even in London, where the business was chiefly in -the hands of Frenchmen. The staple of the French “_poudrette_” is -_not_ “_sewage_,” that is, the outpourings of the sewers--for this is -carried into the Seine, and washed away with little inconvenience, -as the tide hardly affects that river in Paris; but it is altogether -“_cesspoolage_,” that is, the deposit of the cesspools, collected in -fixed and moveable utensils, regulated by the “universal” police of -Paris, and conveyed by Government labourers to the Voirées, which are -huge reservoirs of nightsoil at Montfauçon, about five miles, and -in the Forest of Bondy, about ten miles, from the centre of Paris. -The London-made manure also was all of cesspoolage; the contents of -the nightman’s cart being “shot” in the manufacturer’s yard; and -when so manufactured was, I believe, without exception, sent to the -sugar-growing colonies, the farmers in the provinces pronouncing it -“too hot” for the ground. The same complaint, I may observe, has been -made of the French manufactured cesspool manure. I heard, on the other -hand, opinions from scientific and practical gentlemen, that the -sewer-water of London was so diluted, it was not profitably serviceable -for the irrigation of land. All, however, agreed that the sewage of the -metropolis ought not to be wasted, as it was certain that perseverance -in experiment (and perhaps a large outlay) were certain to make sewage -of value. - -The following results, which the Board of Health have just issued in a -Report, containing “Minutes of Information attested on the Application -of Sewer-water and Town Manures to Agricultural Production,” supply -the latest information on this subject. The Report says first, that -“to be told that the average yield of a county is 30 bushels of wheat -per acre, or that the average weight of the turnip crop is 15 tons -per acre, means very little, and there is little to be learned from -such intelligence; but if it is shown that a certain farm under the -usual mode of culture yielded certain weights per acre, and that the -same land, by improved applications of the same manure, by the use of -machinery, and by _employing double the number of hands, at increased -wages_, is made to yield _four fold_ the weight of crop and of _better -quality_ than was previously obtained, a lesson is set before us worth -learning.” - -It then proceeds to cite the following statements, on the authority of -the Hon. Dudley Fortescue, as to the efficiency of sewage-water as a -liquid manure applied to land. - -“The first farm we visited was that of Craigentinney, situated about -one mile and a half south-east of Edinburgh, of which 260 Scotch acres” -(a Scotch acre is one-fourth more than any English acre) “receive a -considerable proportion of such sewerage as, under an imperfect system -of house-drainage, is at present derived from half the city. The -meadows of which it chiefly consists have been put under irrigation -at various times, the most recent addition being nearly 50 acres laid -out in the course of last year and the year previous, which, lying -above the level of the rest, are irrigated by means of a steam-engine. -The meadows first laid out are watered by contour channels following -the inequalities of the ground, after the fashion commonly adopted -in Devonshire; but in the more recent parts the ground is disposed -in ‘panes’ of half an acre, served by their respective feeders, a -plan which, though somewhat more expensive at the outset, is found -preferable in practice. The whole 260 acres take about 44 days to -irrigate; the men charged with the duty of shifting the water from -one pane to another give to each plot about two hours’ irrigation -at a time; and the engine serves its 50 acres in ten days, working -day and night, and employing one man at the engine and another to -shift the water. The produce of the meadows is sold by auction on the -ground, ‘rouped,’ as it is termed, to the cow-feeders of Edinburgh, -the purchaser cutting and carrying off all he can during the course of -the letting, which extends from about the middle of April to October, -when the meadows are shut up, but the irrigation is continued through -the winter. The lettings average somewhat over 20_l._ the acre; the -highest last year having brought 31_l._, and the lowest 9_l._; these -last were of very limited extent, on land recently denuded in laying -out the ground, and consequently much below its natural level of -productiveness. There are four cuttings in the year, and the collective -weight of grass cut in parts was stated at the extraordinary amount of -80 tons the imperial acre. The only cost of maintaining these meadows, -except those to which the water is pumped by the engine, consists in -the employment of two hands to turn on and off the water, and in the -expense of clearing out the channels, which was contracted for last -year at 29_l._, and the value of the refuse obtained was considered -fully equal to that sum, being applied in manuring parts of the land -for a crop of turnips, which with only this dressing in addition -to irrigation with the sewage-water presented the most luxuriant -appearance. The crop, from present indications, was estimated at from -30 to 40 tons the acre, and was expected to realize 15_s._ the ton -sold on the land. From calculations made on the spot we estimated the -produce of the meadows during the eight months of cutting at the keep -of ten cows per acre, exclusive of the distillery refuse they consume -in addition, at a cost of 1_s._ to 1_s._ 6_d._ per head per week. The -sea-meadows present a particularly striking example of the effects of -the irrigation; these, comprising between 20 and 30 acres skirting the -shores between Leith and Musselburgh, were laid down in 1826 at a cost -of about 700_l._; the land consisted formerly of a bare sandy tract, -yielding almost absolutely nothing; it is now covered with luxuriant -vegetation extending close down to high-water mark, and lets at an -average of 20_l._ per acre at least. From the above statement it will -be seen how enormously profitable has been the application in this case -of town refuse in the liquid form; and I have no hesitation in stating -that, great as its advantages have been, they might be extended four -or five fold by greater dilution of the fluid. Four or five times the -extent of land might, I believe, be brought into equally productive -cultivation under an improved system of drainage in the city, and a -more abundant use of water. Besides these Craigentinney meadows, there -are others on this and on the west side of Edinburgh, which we did -not visit, similarly laid out, and I believe realizing still larger -profits, from their closer proximity to the town, and their lying -within the toll-gates.”[67] - -Such, then, are said to be the results of a practical application of -sewer-water. The preliminary remark of the Board of Health, however, -applies somewhat to the statement above given; for we are not told what -the _same land_ produced before the liquid manure was applied; nor are -we informed as to the peculiar condition and quantity of the land near -Craigentinney, and how it differs from the land near London. - -The other returns are of liquid manures, of which sewer-water formed no -part, and, therefore, require no special notice of them. The following -observations are, however, worthy of attention:-- - -“The cases above detailed furnish some measure of the possible -results attainable in cultivation, especially corroborated as they -are by others which did not on this occasion come under our personal -observation, but one of which I may mention, having recently examined -into it, that of Mr. Dickinson, at Willesden, who estimates his yield -of Italian rye-grass at from 80 to 100 tons an acre, and gets 8 or -10 cuttings, according to the season; and as there is no peculiar -advantage of soil or climate (the former ranging from almost pure sands -to cold and tenacious clays, and the latter being inferior to that of -a large proportion of England) to prevent the same system being almost -universally adopted, they give some idea of the degree to which the -productiveness of land may be raised by a judicious appliance of the -means within our reach. When it is considered that such results may, -in the vicinity of towns and villages, be most effectually brought -about by the instant removal of all those matters which, when allowed -to remain in them, are among the most fruitful sources of social -degradation, disease, and death, one cannot but earnestly desire -the furtherance of such measures as will ensure this double result -of purifying the town and enriching the country; and as the facts I -have stated came at the same time under the notice of the gentleman I -mentioned above, under whose able superintendence the arrangements for -the water-supply and drainage of several towns are now in course of -execution, I trust it will not be long before this most advantageous -mode of disposing of the refuse of towns may be brought into practical -operation in various parts of the country. - - “I have, &c., - - “D. F. FORTESCUE. - -“General Board of Health.” - - -OF THE NEW PLAN OF SEWERAGE. - -This branch of the subject hardly forms part of my present inquiry, -but, having pointed out the defects of the sewers, it seems but -reasonable and right to say a few words on the measures determined -upon for their improvement. It is only necessary for me, however, to -indicate the principal characteristics of the new, or rather intended, -mode of sewerage, as the work may be said to have been but commenced, -or hardly commenced in earnest, the Report of Mr. Frank Forster (the -engineer) bearing the date of Jan. 30, 1851. - -In the carrying out of the engineer’s plan--which from its magnitude, -and, in all human probability, from its cost, when completed, would -be _national_ in other countries, but is here only _metropolitan_--in -the carrying out of this scheme, I say, two remarkable changes will be -found. The one is the employment of the power of steam in sewerage; the -other is the diversion of the sewage from the current of the Thames. -The ultimate uses of this sewage, agriculturally or otherwise, form no -part of the present consideration. - -I should, however, first enumerate the general principles on which -the best authorities have agreed that the London sewers should be -constructed so as to ensure a proper disposal of the sewage, for these -principles are said to be at the basis of Mr. Forster’s plan. - -I condense under the following heads the substance of a mass of -Reports, Committee Meetings, Suggestions, Plans, &c.:-- - -1. The channels, or pipeage, or other means of conveying away -house-refuse, should be so made that the removal will be _immediate_, -more especially of any refuse or filth capable of suspension in water, -since its immediate carrying off, it is said, would leave no time for -the generation of miasma. - -2. Means should be provided for such disposal of sewage as would -prevent its tainting any stream, well, or pool, or, by its stagnation -or obstruction, in any way poisoning the atmosphere. And, as a natural -and legitimate result, it should be _so collected that it could be -applied to the cultivation of the land_ at the most economical rate. - -3. In the providing works of deposit or storage in low districts, or -“of discharge where the natural outlets are free,” such works should -be provided as would not subject any place, or any man’s property, to -the risk of inundation, or any other evil consequence; while in the -construction of the drainage of the substratum, the works should be -at such a depth below the foundation of all buildings that tenements -should not be exposed to that continued damage from exhalation and -dampness which leads to the dry rot in timber, and to an immature decay -of materials and a general unhealthiness. - -There are other points insisted upon in many Reports to which I need -but allude, such as - -(_a._) The channels containing sewage should be of enduring and -impermeable material, so as to prevent all soakage. - -(_b._) There should be throughout the channels of the subterranean -metropolis a fall or inclination which would suffice to prevent the -accumulation of any sewage deposit, with its deleterious influence and -ultimate costliness. - -(_c._) Similar provisions should be used were it but to prevent -the creation of the noxious gases which now permeate many houses -(especially in the quarters inhabited by the poor) and escape into -many streets, courts, and alleys, for until improvements are effected -the pent-up sewage and the saturated brickwork of the sewers and older -drains must generate such gases. - -(_d._) No tidal stream should ever receive a flow of sewage, because -then the cause of evil is never absent, for the filth comes back -with the tide; and as the Thames water constitutes the grand fount -of metropolitan consumption, the water companies, with very trifling -exceptions, give us back much of our own excrement, mixed with every -conceivable, and sometimes noxious, nastiness, with which we may brew, -cook, and wash--and drink, if we can. Filtering remedies but a portion -of the evil. - -Now it would appear that not one of these requirements, the necessity -of which is unquestioned and unquestionable, is fully carried out by -the present system of sewerage, and hence the need of some new plan in -which the defects may be remedied, and the proper principles carried -out. - -The instructions given by the Court were to the following effect:-- - -A. The Thames should be kept free from sewage whatever the state of the -tide. - -B. There should be intercepting drains to carry off the sewage (so -keeping the Thames unsoiled by it) wherever practicable. - -C. The sewage should be raised by artificial means into a main channel -for removal. - -D. The intercepting sewers should be so constructed as to secure the -largest amount of effective drainage without artificial appliances. - -In preparing his plan, Mr. Forster had the advice and assistance of Mr. -Haywood, of the City Court of Sewers. - -The metropolis is divided into two portions--“the northern portion of -the metropolis,” or rather that portion of the metropolis which is on -the north or Middlesex bank of the Thames; and the southern portion, or -that which is on the south or Surrey side of the river. - -The northern portion is in the new plan considered to “divide itself -into two separate areas,” and to these two areas different modes of -sewerage are to be applied: - -“1. The interception of the drainage of that district, which, from -its elevation above the level of the outlet, is capable of having its -sewage and rainfall carried off by gravitation. - -“2. The interception of the drainage of that district, which, from its -low lying position, will require its sewage, and in most localities its -rainfall, to be lifted by steam-power to a proper level for discharge.” - -The first district runs from Holsden-green (beyond the better-known -Kensall-green) in the west, to the Tower Hamlets in the east. Its -form is irregular, but not very much so, merely narrowing from -Westbourn-green to its western extremity, the country then becoming -rural or woodland. Its highest reaches to the north are to Highgate and -Stamford-hill. The nearest approach to the south is to a portion of -the Strand, between Charing-cross and Drury-lane. Care has evidently -been taken to skirt this district, so to speak, by the canals and the -railroads. This division of the northern portion is described as “the -district for natural drainage.” - -The area of this division is about 25-1/6 square miles. - -The second division meets the first at the highway separating -Kensington-gardens from Bayswater; and runs on, bordering the river, -all the way to the West India Dock. Its shape is irregular, but, -abating the roundness, presents somewhat of that sort of figure seen -in the instrument known as a dumb-bell, the narrowest or hand-part -being that between Charing-cross and Drury-lane, skirting the river -as its southern bound. At its eastern end this second district widens -abruptly, taking in Victoria-park, Stratford, and Bromley. - -The area of this division of the northern portion is 16-1/8 square -miles. - -There are, moreover, two small tracts, comprising the southern part of -the Isle of Dogs, and a narrow slip on the west side of the river Lea, -which are intended to allow the rainfall to run into the Thames and the -Lea respectively. - -The area of the two is 1-3/4 square mile. - -The area to be drained by natural outfall comprises, then, 25-1/6 -square miles as regards rainfall, and the same extent as regards -sewage; while the area to the drainage of which steam power is to -be applied comprises 14-1/3 square miles of rainfall, and 16-1/6 -square miles of sewage; the two united areas of rainfall and sewage -respectively being 39-1/2 and 41-1/3 square miles. - -The length of the great “high-level sewerage” will be, as regards the -main sewer, 19 miles and 106 yards; that of the “low-level sewerage,” -14 miles and 1501 yards. - -I will now describe the course of each of these constructions. - -On the eastern bank of the Lea the sewage of both districts is to -be concentrated. The high-level sewer will commence and _cross_ the -Lea near the “Four Mills.” It is then to proceed “in a westerly -direction under the East and West India Dock Railway and the Blackwall -Extension Railway, beneath the Regent’s-canal, to the east end of the -Bethnal-green-road, at the crossing of the Cambridge-heath-road, at -which point it will be joined by the proposed northern division of the -Hackney-brook, which drains an extensive district up to the watershed -line north of London, including Hackney, Stoke Newington and Holloway, -and part of Highgate and Hampstead; from thence the main sewer proceeds -along the Bethnal-green-road, Church-street, Old-street, Wilderness-row -(where a short branch from Coppice-row will join) to Brook-street-hill; -from thence to Little Saffron-hill, where a distance of about 100 yards -is proposed to be carried by an aqueduct over the Fleet-valley; thence -along Liquorpond-street, at the end of which it will receive a branch -from Piccadilly, on the south side, and a diversion of the Fleet-river, -on the north side; thence along Theobald’s-road, Bloomsbury-square, -Hart-street, New Oxford-street, to Rathbone-place (where it will -receive a diversion of the Regent-street sewer from Park-crescent), -along Oxford-street, and extending thence across Regent-circus to -South Molton-lane (where it will intercept the King’s Scholars’ Pond -sewer), continuing still along Oxford-street to Bayswater-place, Grand -Junction-road, Uxbridge-road, where it is joined by the Ranelagh sewer, -the sewage of which it is capable of receiving, and at this point it -terminates.” - -It is difficult to convey to a reader, especially to a reader who -may not be familiar with the localities of London generally, any -adequate notion of the largeness, speaking merely of extent, of this -undertaking. Even a map conveys no sufficient idea of it. - -Perhaps I may best be able to suggest to a reader’s mind a knowledge -of this largeness, when I state that in the district I have just -described, which is but _one_ portion (although the greatest) of the -sewerage of but _one_ side of the Thames, more than half a million of -persons, and nearly 100,000 houses are, so to speak, to be sewered. - -The low-level tract sewerage, also, concentrates on the Lea, “near to -Four Mill’s distillery, taking the north-western bank of the Limehouse -Cut, at which point it receives the branch intended to intercept -the sewage of the Isle of Dogs; thence continuing along the bank of -Limehouse Cut, through a portion of the Commercial-road, Brook-street, -and beneath the Sun Tavern Fields, into High-street, or Upper -Shadwell; thence along Ratcliffe-highway and Upper East Smithfield, -across Tower-hill, through Little and Great Tower-streets, Eastcheap, -Cannon-street, Little and Great St. Thomas Apostle, Trinity-lane, Old -Fish-street, and Little Knight Rider-street; thence beneath houses in -Wardrobe-terrace, and on the eastern side of St. Andrew’s-hill, along -Earl-street to Blackfriars-road. From Blackfriars Bridge it is proposed -to construct the sewer along the river shore to the junction of the -Victoria-street sewer at Percy-wharf; which sewer between Percy-wharf -and Shaftesbury-terrace, Pimlico, becomes thus an integral portion of -the intercepting line; at Bridge-street, Westminster, a branch from -the Victoria-street sewer is intended to proceed along Abingdon and -Millbank-streets, as far as and for the purpose of taking up the King’s -Scholars’ Pond and other sewers at their outlets into the Thames. -From Shaftesbury-terrace the Victoria-street sewer is proposed to be -extended through Eaton-square and along the King’s-road, Chelsea, to -Park-walk, intercepting all the sewers along its line, and terminating -at a point where the drainage of Kensington may be brought into it -without pumping.” - -The lines of sewerage thus described are, then, all to the _west_ of -the Lea, and all, whether from the shore of the Thames, or the northern -reaches in Highgate and Hampstead, converging to a pumping station -or sewage-concentration, on the _east_ bank of the Lea, in West Ham. -By this new plan, then, the high-level sewer is to _cross_ the Lea, -but that arrangement is impossible as respects the second district -described, which is _below_ the level of the Lea, so that its course -is to be _beneath_ that river, a little below where it is crossed by -the high-level line. To dispose of the sewage, therefore, conveyed from -the low-level tract, there will be a sewer of a “depth of _forty-seven_ -feet _below_” the invert of the high-level sewer. This sewer, then, at -the depth of 47 feet, will run to the point of concentration containing -the low-level sewage. - -At this point of the works, in order that the sewage may be collected, -so as to be disposed of ultimately in one mass, it has to be _lifted_ -from the low to the high-level sewer. The invert of the high-level -sewer will at the lifting or pumping station be 20 feet _above_ the -ordnance datum, while that of the low-level sewer will be 27 feet -_below_ the same standard. Thus a great body of metropolitan sewage, -comprising among other districts the refuse of the whole City of -London, must be lifted no less than 47 feet, in order to be got rid of -along with what has been carried to the same focus by its natural flow. - -The lifting is to be effected by means of steam, and the pumping power -required has been computed at 1100-horse power. To supply this great -mechanical and scientific force, there are to be provided two engines, -each of 550-horse power, with a third engine of equal capacity, to be -available in case of accident, or while either of the other engines -might require repairs of some duration. - -The northern sewage of London (or that of the Middlesex bank of the -Thames, covered by that division of the capital) having been thus -brought to a sort of central reservoir, or meeting point, will be -conveyed in two parallel lines of sewerage to the bank of the river -Roding, being the eastern extremity of Gallion’s Reach (which is below -Woolwich Reach), in the Thames. The Roding flows into the Thames at -Barking Creek mouth. The length of this line will be four miles. - -“At this point,” it is stated in the Report, “the level of the inverts -of the parallel sewers will be eight feet below high-water mark, and -here it is intended to collect the sewage into a reservoir during -the flood-tide, and discharge the same with the ebb-tide immediately -after high-water; and, as it is estimated that the reservoir will be -completely emptied during the first three hours of the ebb, it may be -safely anticipated that no portion of the sewage will be returned, with -the flood-tide, to within the bounds of the metropolis.” - -The whole of the sewage and rainfall, then, will be thus diverted to -_one_ destination, instead of being issued into the river through a -multiplicity of outlets in every part of the northern shore where the -population is dense, and will be carried into the Thames at Barking -Creek, unless, as I have intimated, a market be found for the sewage; -when it may be disposed of as is most advantageous. The only exceptions -to this carrying off will be upon the occurrence of long-continued and -heavy rains or violent storms, when the surplus water will be carried -off by some of the present outlets into the river; but even on such -occasions, the _first scour_ or cleansings of the sewerage will be -conveyed to the main outlet at the river Roding. - -The inclination which has been assigned to the whole of the lines -of sewers I have described, is, with some unimportant exceptions, 4 -feet per mile, or 1 in 1320. These new sewers are, or rather will be, -calculated to carry off a fall of rain, equal to 1/4 inch in 24 hours, -in addition to the average daily flow of sewage. - -Mr. Forster concludes his Report:--“I am only able to submit -approximately that I estimate the cost of the whole of the lines -of sewers, the pumping engines, and station, the reservoir, tidal -gates, and other apparatus, at one million and eighty thousand pounds -(1,080,000_l._). This estimate does not include the sums required for -the purchase of land and houses, which may be needed for the site of -the pumping engine-house, or compensation for certain portions of the -lines of sewers.” - -As regards the improvements in the sewerage on the south side of the -Thames (the great fever district of the metropolis, and consequently -the most important of all, and where the drainage is of the worst -kind), I can be very brief, as nothing has been positively determined. - -A somewhat similar system will be adopted on the south side of the -Thames, where it is proposed to form one main intercepting sewer; but, -owing to the physical configuration of this part of the town, none -of the water will flow away entirely by gravitation. There will be a -pumping station on the banks of the Ravensbourne, to raise the water -about 25 feet; and a second pumping station to raise the water from -the continued sewer in the reservoir, in Woolwich Marsh, which is to -receive it during the intervals of the tides. The waters are to be -discharged into the river at the last-named point. The main sewer on -the south side will be of nearly equally colossal proportions; for its -total length is proposed to be about 13 miles 3 furlongs, including the -main trunk drain of about 2 miles long, and the respective branches. -The area to be relieved is about proportionate to the length of the -drain; but the steam power employed will be proportionally greater upon -the southern than upon the northern side. - -There are divers opinions, of course, as to the practicability and -ultimate good working of this plan; speculations into which it is -not necessary for me to enter. Mr. Forster has, moreover, resigned -his office, adding another to the many changes among the engineers, -surveyors, and other employés under the Metropolitan Commission; a fact -little creditable to the management of the Commissioners, who, with one -exception, may be looked upon as irresponsible. - - -OF THE MANAGEMENT OF THE SEWERS AND THE LATE COMMISSIONS. - -The Corporation of the City of London may be regarded as the first -Commission of Sewers in the exercise of authority over such places as -regards the removal of the filth of towns. In time, but at what time -there is no account, the business was consigned to the management of -a committee, as are now the markets of the City (Markets Committee), -and even what may be called the management of the Thames (Navigation -Committee). It is not at all necessary that the members of these -committees should understand anything about the matters upon which -they have to determine. A staff of officers, clerks, secretaries, -solicitors, and surveyors, save the members the trouble of thought -or inquiry; they have merely to vote and determine. It was stated in -evidence before a Select Committee of the House of Commons on the -subject of the Thames steamers, that at that period the Chairman of -the _Navigation_ Committee was a bread and biscuit baker, but “a -very-firm-minded man.” In time, but again I can find no note of the -precise date, the _Committee_ became a _Court_ of Sewers, and so it -remains to the present time. Commissions of sewers have been issued -by the Crown since the 25th year of the reign of Henry VIII., except -during the era of the Commonwealth, when there seems to have been no -attention paid to the matter. - -As the metropolis increased rapidly in size since the close of the -last century, the public sewers of course increased in proportion, -and so did Commissions of Sewers in the newly-built districts. Up to -1847 these Commissions or Court of Sewers were _eight_ in number, the -metropolis being divided into that number of districts. - -The districts were as follows:-- - - 1. The City. - 2. The Tower Hamlets. - 3. St. Katherine. - 4. Poplar and Blackwall. - 5. Holborn and Finsbury. - 6. Westminster and part of Middlesex. - 7. Surrey and Kent. - 8. Greenwich. - -Each of these eight Commissions had its own Act of Parliament; its -own distinct, often irregular and generally uncontrolled plan of -management; each had its own officers; and each had its own patronage. -Each district court--with almost unlimited powers of taxation--pursued -its own plans of sewerage, little regardful of the plans of its -neighbour Commission. This wretched system--the great recommendation -of which, to its promoters and supporters, seems to have been -patronage--has given us a sewerage unconnected and varying to the -present day in almost every district; varying in the dimensions, form, -and inclination of the structures. - -The eight commission districts, I may observe, had each their -sub-districts, though the general control was in the hands of the -particular Court or Board of Commissioners for the entire locality. -These subdivisions were chiefly for the facilities of rate-collecting, -and were usually “western,” “eastern,” and “central.” - -The consequence of this immethodical system has been that, until the -surveys and works now in progress are completed, the precise character, -and even the precise length, of the sewers must be unknown, though a -sufficient approximation may be deduced in the interim. - -To show the conflicting character of the sewerage, I may here observe -that in some of the old sewers have been found walls and arches -crumbling to pieces. Some old sewers were found to be not only of ample -proportions, but to contain subterranean chambers, not to say halls, -filled with filth, into which no man could venture. While in a sewer in -the newly-built district of St. John’s-wood, Mr. Morton, the Clerk of -Works, could only advance stooping half double, could not turn round -when he had completed his examination, but had most painfully--for a -long time feeling the effects--to back out along the sewer, stooping, -or doubled up, as he entered it. Why the sewer was constructed in this -manner is not stated, but the work appears, inferentially, to have been -_scamped_, which, had there been a proper supervision, could hardly -have been done with a modern public sewer, down a thoroughfare of some -length (the Woronzow-road). - -But the conflicting and disjointed system of sewerage was not the sole -evil of the various Commissions. The mismanagement and jobbery, not to -say peculation, of the public moneys, appear to have been enormous. -For instance, in the “Accountant’s Report” (February, 1848), prepared -by Mr. W. H. Grey, 48, Lincoln’s-inn-fields, I find the following -statements relative to the _Book-keeping_ of the several Commissions:-- - -“The _Westminster_ plan is full of unnecessary repetition. It is -deficient in those real general accounts which concentrate the -information most needed by the Commissioners, and it contains -_fictions_ which are very inconsistent with any sound system of -book-keeping. - -“The ledger of the Westminster Commission does not give a true account -of the actual receipt and expenditure of each district. - -“The _Holborn and Finsbury_ books are still more defective than -those of the Westminster Commission.... There are the same kind of -_fictions_.... But the extraordinary defect in these books consists in -the utter want of system throughout them, by keeping one-sided accounts -only in the ledger, with respect to the different sewers in each -district, showing only the amount _expended_ on each. - -“The _Tower Hamlets_ books have been kept on a regular system, though -by no means one conveying much general information.” - -“With respect to the _Surrey and Kent_ accounts,” says Mr. Grey, -“the books produced are the most incomplete and unsatisfactory that -ever came under my observation. The ledger is always thought to be a -_sine quâ non_ in book-keeping; but here it has been dispensed with -altogether, for that which is so marked is no ledger at all.” - -Under these circumstances, the Report continues, “It cannot be wondered -at that debts should have been incurred, or that they should have -swollen to the amount of 54,000_l._, carrying a yearly interest of -2360_l._, besides annuities granted to the amount of 1125_l._ a year. - -“The _Poplar and Greenwich_ accounts (I quote the official Report), -confined as they are to mere cash books, offer no subjects for -remark.... - -“No books of account have been produced with respect to the _St. -Katherine’s_ Commission.” - -On the 16th December, 1847, the new Commissioners ordered all the books -to be sent to the office in Greek-street; but it was not until the 21st -February, 1848, that all the minute-books were produced. There were no -indexes for many years even to the proceedings of the Courts; and the -account-books of one of the local Courts, if they might be so called, -were in such a state that the book called “ledger” had for several -years been cast up in pencil only. - -This refers to what may be characterised, with more or less propriety, -as _mismanagement_ or _neglect_; though in such mismanagement it is -hardly possible to escape _one_ inference. I now come to what are -direct imputations of _Jobbery_, and where _that_ is flourishing or -easy, no system can be other than vicious. - -In a paper “printed for use of Commissioners” (Sept. 7, 1848), -entitled “Draft Report on the Surrey Accounts,” emanating from a -“General Purposes’ Committee,” I find the following, concerning -the parliamentary expenses of obtaining an Act which it was “found -necessary to repeal.” The cost was, altogether, upwards of 1800_l._, -which of course had to be defrayed out of the taxes. - -“This Act,” says the Report, “authorized an almost unlimited borrowing -of money; and _immediately upon its passing_, in July, 1847, notices -were issued for works estimated to amount to 100,000_l._; and others, -we understand, were projected for early execution to the amount of -300,000_l._... Considering the general character of the works executed, -and from them judging of those projected, it may confidently be averred -that the _whole sum_ of 300,000_l._, the progressive expenditure of -which was stayed by the ‘supersedeas’ of the old Commission, would -have been _expended in waste_.” [The _Italics_ are not those of the -Reports.] - -The Report continues, “It is to be observed that each of the district -surveyors would have participated in the sum of 15,000_l._ percentage -on the expenditure for the extension of the Surrey works. Thus the -surveyors, with their percentages on the works executed, and the clerk, -by the fees on contracts, &c., had _a direct interest in a large -expenditure_.” - -Instances of the same dishonest kind might be multiplied to almost any -extent. - -After the above evidences of the incompetency and dishonesty of -the several district Commissions--and the Reports from which they -are copied contain many more examples of a similar and even worse -description--it is not to be wondered at that in the year 1847 the -district courts were, with the exception of the City, superseded by -the authority of the Crown, and formed into one body, the present -Metropolitan Commission of Sewers, of the constitution and powers of -which I shall now proceed to speak. - - -OF THE POWERS AND AUTHORITY OF THE PRESENT COMMISSIONS OF SEWERS. - -In 1847 the eight separate Commissions of Sewers were abolished, and -the whole condensed, by the Government, into _one_ Commission, with -the exception of the City, which seems to supply an exception in most -public matters. - -The Act does not fix the number of the Commissioners. To the -Metropolitan Commissioners, five City Commissioners are added (the Lord -Mayor for the year being one _ex officio_); these have a right to act -as members of the Metropolitan Board, but their powers in this capacity -are loosely defined by the Act, and they rarely attend, or perhaps -never attend, unless the business in some way or other affects their -distinct jurisdiction. - -The Commissioners (of whom twelve form a quorum) are unpaid, with the -exception of the chairman, Mr. E. Lawes, a barrister, who has 1000_l._ -a year. They are appointed for the term of two years, revocable at -pleasure. - -The authority of the City Commission, as distinct from the -Metropolitan, for there are two separate Acts, seems to be more -strongly defined than that of the others, but the principle is the same -throughout. The Metropolitan Act bears date September 4, 1848; and the -City Act, September 5, 1848. - -The Metropolitan Commissioners have the control over “the sewers, -drains, watercourses, weirs, dams, banks, defences, gratings, pipes, -conduits, culverts, sinks, vaults, cesspools, rivers, reservoirs, -engines, sluices, penstocks, and other works and apparatus for the -collection and discharge of rain-water, surplus land or spring-water, -waste water, or filth, or fluid, or semi-fluid refuse of all -descriptions, and for the protection of land from floods or inundation -within the limits of the Commission.” Ample as these powers seem to be, -the Commissioners’ authority does not extend over the Thames, which is -in the jurisdiction of the Lord Mayor and Corporation of the City of -London; and it appears childish to give men control over “rivers,” -and to empower them to take measures “for the protection of land from -floods or inundation,” while over the great metropolitan stream itself, -from Yantlet Creek, below Gravesend, to Oxford, they have no power -whatever. - -The Commissioners (City as well as Metropolitan) are empowered to -enforce proper house-drainage wherever needed; to regulate the -building of new houses, in respect of water-closets, cesspools, &c.; -to order any street, staircase, or passage not effectually cleansed -to be effectually cleansed; to remedy all nuisances having insanitary -tendencies; to erect _public_ water-closets and urinals, free from any -charge to the public; to order houses and rooms to be whitewashed; to -erect places for depositing the bodies of poor persons deceased until -interment; and to regulate the cleanliness, ventilation, and even -accommodation of low lodging-houses. - -The jurisdiction of the Metropolitan Commissioners of Sewers extends -over “all such places or parts in the counties of Middlesex, Surrey, -Essex, and Kent, or any of them _not more than twelve miles distant in -a straight line from St. Paul’s Cathedral, in the City of London_, but -not being within the City of London or the liberties thereof.” - -This, it must be confessed, is an exceedingly broad definition of the -extent of the jurisdiction of the _Metropolitan_ Commission, giving the -Commissioners an extraordinary amount of _latitude_. - -In our days there are many Londons. There is the London (or the -metropolitan apportionment of the capital) as defined by the -Registrar-General. This, as we have seen, has an area of 115 square -miles, and therefore may be said to comprise as nearly as possible all -those places which are rather more than _five miles_ distant from the -Post Office. - -There is the _Metropolis_ as defined by the Post-Office functionaries, -or the limits assigned to what is termed the “_London_ District Post.” -This London District Post seems, however, to have three different -metropolises:--First, there is the Central Metropolis, throughout -which there is an hourly delivery of letters after mid-day, and which -deliveries are said to be confined to “_London._” Then there is the -six-delivery _Metropolis_, or that throughout which the letters are -despatched and received six times per day; this is said to extend to -such of the “environs” as are included within a circle of _three miles_ -from the General Post Office. Then there is the _six-mile Metropolis_ -with special privileges. And lastly, the _twelve-mile Metropolis_, -which, being the extreme range of the _London_ District Post, may be -said to constitute the metropolis of the General Post Office. - -There is, again, the metropolis of the Metropolitan Commissioners -of Police, before the region of rural police and country and parish -constables is attained; a jurisdiction which covers 96 square -miles, as I have shown at pp. 163-166 of the present volume, and -reaches--generally speaking--to such places as are included within a -circle of _five miles and a half_ from the General Post Office. - -There is, moreover, the metropolis, as defined by the Hackney-Carriage -Act, which comprises all such places as are within _five miles_ of the -General Post Office. - -And further, there is the Metropolis of the London City Mission, which -extends to _eight miles_ from the Post Office, and the Metropolis, -again, of the London Ragged Schools, which reaches to about _three -miles_ from the Post Office. - -This, however, is not all, for there are divers districts for the -registration and exercise of votes, parliamentary, or municipal; there -are ecclesiastical and educational districts; there is a thorough -complication of parochial, extra-parochial, and chartered districts; -there is a world of subdivisions and of sub-subdivisions, so ramified -here and so closely blended there, and often with such preposterous and -arbitrary distinctions, that to describe them would occupy more than a -whole Number. - -My present business, however, is the extent of the jurisdiction of -the Metropolitan Commissioners of Sewers, or rather to ascertain -the boundaries of that _metropolis_ over which the Metropolitan -Commissioners are allowed to have sway. - -The many discrepancies and differences I have explained make it -difficult to _define_ any district for the London sewerage; and in -the Reports, &c., which are presented to Parliament, or prepared by -public bodies, little or no care seems to be taken to observe any -distinctiveness in this respect. - -For instance: The jurisdiction of the Metropolitan Commission of -Sewers, which is said to extend to all such places as are not more than -12 miles distant in a straight line from St. Paul’s Cathedral, in the -City of London, comprises an area of 452 square miles; the metropolis, -that of the Registrar-General, presenting a radius of 6 miles (with -a fractional addition), contains 115 square miles; yet in official -documents 58 square miles, or a circle of about 4-1/2 miles radius, are -given as the extent of the _metropolis_ sewered by the Metropolitan -Commission. By what calculations this 58 miles are arrived at, whether -it has been the _arbitrium_ of the authorities to consider the sewers, -&c., as occupying _the half_ of the area of the Registrar-General’s -metropolis, or what other reason has induced the computation, I am -unable to say. - -The boundaries of the several metropolises may be indicated as -follows:-- - -The _Three-Mile Circle_ includes Camberwell; skirts Peckham; seems to -divide Deptford (irregularly); touches the West India Dock; includes -portions of Limehouse, Stepney, Bromley, Stratford-le-Bow, and about -the half of Victoria-park, Hackney. It likewise comprises a part of -Lower Clapton, Dalston, and a portion of Stoke Newington; and closely -touching upon or containing small portions of Lower Holloway, and -Kentish-town, sweeps through the Regent’s and Hyde parks, includes a -moiety of Chelsea, and crossing the river at the Red-house, Battersea, -completes the circle. This is the six-delivery district of the General -Post Office. - -In this three-mile district are chiefly condensed the population, -commerce, and wealth of the greatest and richest city in the world. - -The _Six-Mile Circle_ runs from Streatham (on the south); just excludes -Sydenham; contains within its exterior line Lewisham, Greenwich, and -a part of Woolwich; also, wholly or partially, East Ham, Laytonstone, -Walthamstow, Tottenham, Hornsey, Highgate, Hampstead, Kensall-green, -Hammersmith, Fulham, Wandsworth, and Upper Tooting. The portion without -the three-mile circle, and within the six, is the _suburban_ portion -or the immediate environs of the metropolis, and still presents rural -and woodland beauties in different localities. This may be termed the -metropolis of the Registrar-General and Commissioners of Metropolitan -Police. - -The _Twelve-Mile Circle_, or the extent of the jurisdiction of the -_Metropolitan_ Commissioners of Sewers, as well as the “_London_ -District Post,” includes Croydon, Wickham, Paul’s Cray, Foot’s -Cray, North Cray, and Bexley; crosses the river at the Erith-reach; -proceeds across the Rainham-marshes; comprises Dagenham; skirts -Romford; includes Henhault-forest and the greater portion of -Epping-forest; touches Waltham-abbey and Cheshunt; comprehends Enfield -and Chipping-Barnet; runs through Elstre and Stanmore; comprehends -Harrow-on-the-Hill, Norwood, and Hounslow; embraces Twickenham and -Teddington; seems to divide somewhat equally the domains of Bushey-park -and of Hampton-court Palace; then, crossing the river about midway -between Thames Ditton and Kingston, the boundary line passes between -Cheam and Ewell, and completes the circuit. - -Over this large district, then, the jurisdiction of the Metropolitan -Commissioners of Sewers is said to extend, and one of the outlets of -the _London_ sewers has already been spoken of as being situate at -Hampton. The district yielding the amount of sewage which is assumed as -being the gross wet house-refuse of the metropolis is, as we have seen, -taken at 58 square miles, and is comprised within a circle of about -4-1/2 miles radius; this reaches only to Brixton, Dulwich, Greenwich, -East India Docks, Layton, Highgate, Hampstead, Bayswater, Kensington, -Brompton, and Battersea. The actual jurisdiction of the Commissioners -is, then, nearly eight times larger than the portion to which the -estimated amount of the sewage of the metropolis refers. - -The metropolitan district is still distinguished by the old divisions -of the Tower Hamlets, Poplar and Blackwall, Holborn and Finsbury, -Westminster, &c.; but many of these divisions are now incorporated into -one district; of which there would appear to be but four at present; or -five, inclusive of the City. - -These are as follows:-- - -1. Fulham and Hammersmith, Counter’s Creek and Ranelagh districts. - -2. Westminster (Eastern and Western), Regent-street, and Holborn. - -3. Finsbury, Tower Hamlets, Poplar, and Blackwall. - -4. Districts south of the Thames, Eastern and Western. - -5. City. - -The practical part or working of the Commission of Sewers is much less -complicated at present than it was in the times of the independent -districts and independent commissions. - -The orders for all work to be done emanate from the court in -Greek-street, but the several surveyors, &c. (whose salaries, numbers, -&c., are given below), can and do order on their responsibility any -repair of a temporary character which is evidently pressing, and -report it at the next court day. The Court meets weekly and monthly, -and what may be styled the heavier portion of the business, as regards -expenditure on great works, is more usually transacted at the monthly -meetings, when the attendance is generally fuller; but the Court can, -and sometimes does, meet much more frequently, and sometimes has -adjourned from day to day. - -Any private individual or any public body may make a communication -or suggestion to the Court of Sewers, which, if it be in accordance -with their functions, is taken into consideration at the next accruing -court day, or as soon after as convenient. The Court in these cases -either comes to a decision of adoption or rejection of any proposition, -or refers it to one of their engineers or surveyors for a report, or -to a committee of the Commissioners, appointed by the Court; if the -proposition be professional, as to defects, or alleged and recommended -improvements in the local sewers, &c., it is referred to a professional -gentleman for his opinion; if it be more general, as to the extension -of sewerage to some new undertaking or meditated undertaking in the way -of building new markets, streets, or any places, large and public; or -in applications for the use and appropriation by enterprising men of -sewage manure, it is referred to a committee. - -On receiving such reports the Court makes an order according to its -discretion. If the work to be done be extensive, it is entrusted to -the chief engineer, and perhaps to a principal surveyor acting in -accordance with him; if the work be more local, it is consigned to -a surveyor. One or other of these officers provides, or causes to -be prepared, a plan and a description of the work to be done, and -instructs the clerk of the works to procure estimates of the cost at -which a contractor will undertake to execute this work, or, as it is -often called by the labouring class, to “complete the _job_” (a word -at one time singularly applicable). The estimates are sent by the -competing builders, architects, general speculators, or by any one -wishing to contract, to the court house (without the intervention of -any person, officially or otherwise) and they are submitted to the -Board by their clerk. The lowest contract, as the sum total of the -work, is most generally adopted, and when a contract has been accepted, -the matter seems settled and done with, as regards the management of -the Commissioners; for the contractor at once becomes responsible -for the fulfilment of his contract, and may and does employ whom he -pleases _and at what rates he pleases_, without fear of any control or -interference from the Court. The work, however, is superintended by the -surveyors, to ensure its execution according to the provisions of the -agreement. The contractor is paid by direct order of the Court. - -The surveyors and clerks of works are mostly limited as to their -labours to the several districts; but the superior officers are -employed in all parts, and so, if necessary, are the subordinate -officers when the work requires an extra staff. - -According to the Returns, the following functionaries appear to be -connected with the undermentioned districts:-- - - _Fulham, Hammersmith, Counter’s Creek, and Ranelagh._ - 1 Surveyor. - 3 Clerks of the Works. - 1 Inspector of Flushing. - - _Eastern and Western Divisions of Westminster and Regent-street._ - 1 Surveyor, who has also the Holborn division to attend to. - 2 Clerks of the Works. - 6 Flap and Sluice keepers. - - _Holborn._ - 2 Clerks of the Works. - 1 Inspector of Flushing. - - _Finsbury._ - 1 Clerk of the Works. - 1 Inspector of Flushing. - - _Tower Hamlets, and Poplar and Blackwall._ - 1 Surveyor, who has also the Finsbury division included in his district. - 2 Clerks of the Works. - 2 Inspectors of Flushing. - - _South of the Thames. Western Districts._ - 1 Surveyor. - 2 Clerks of the Works. - 2 Inspectors of Flushing. - - _Eastern Districts._ - 1 Surveyor. - 2 Clerks of the Works. - 2 Inspectors of Flushing. - -What may be called the working staff of the Metropolitan Commissioners -consists of the following functionaries, receiving the following -salaries:-- - - £ _s._ - Chairman, with a - yearly salary of 1,000 0 - - Secretary, with a - yearly salary of - (besides an allowance - of £100, in - lieu of apartments) 800 0 - Clerk of minutes 350 0 - Two clerks of do., - (each with a salary - of £150) 300 0 - One do., with a - salary of 120 0 - One do. do. 105 0 - One do. do. 95 0 - One do. do. 90 0 - - Accountant do. 350 0 - Accountant’s clerk - do. 150 0 - Do do. 80 0 - Clerk of surveyors’ - and contractors’ - accounts 200 0 - Do. do. 125 0 - Do. do. 110 0 - - Clerk of rates 250 0 - Another do. 180 0 - Do. do. 110 0 - Do. do. 90 0 - - Engineer 1,000 0 - For travelling expenses 200 0 - Surveyor for Fulham - and Hammersmith, Counter’s - Creek, and - Ranelagh districts 350 0 - Clerk of works - (Hammersmith) 150 0 - Do. (Counter’s - Creek) 150 0 - Do. (Ranelagh) 150 0 - Inspector of - flushing 80 0 - - Surveyor of eastern - and western - divisions of Westminster, - and of - Regent-st. and - Holborn divisions 300 0 - Two clerks of - works (eastern - and western and - Regent-street), - with a salary of - £300 each 600 0 - Two do. (Holborn), - with a - salary of £150 - each 300 0 - Inspector of - flushing 80 0 - Surveyor of Finsbury, - Tower - Hamlets, and - Poplar and - Blackwall 300 0 - Clerk of works - (Finsbury) 150 0 - Inspector of - flushing 80 0 - Two clerks of - works (Tower - Hamlets, and - Poplar and - Blackwall), with - a salary of £150 - each 300 0 - Two inspectors - of flushings - with a salary of - £80 each 160 0 - One marsh bailiff 65 0 - Surveyor of the - western districts - south of the - Thames 300 0 - Do., eastern do. 250 0 - Clerk of works - (eastern portion) 164 0 - Two inspectors of - flushing, £80 - each 160 0 - One wallreeve 22 8 - Clerk of works - (western portion) 164 0 - Do. do. 150 0 - Two inspectors of - flushing, with a - salary of £80 - each 160 0 - - Two engineer’s - clerks, with a - salary of £150 - each 300 0 - One do. 150 0 - One do. 100 0 - One do. 80 0 - - One by-law clerk 150 0 - Twenty-two flap - and sluice - keepers 892 12 - - Surveyor (of the - surveying and - drawing staff) 250 0 - Drawing clerk 150 0 - Two do., with a - salary of £130 - each 260 0 - Five do., with a - salary of £105 - each 525 0 - One do. 50 0 - Six surveyors, - with a salary of - £100 each 600 0 - Six chainmen, 18_s._ - a week each 280 0 - - Office-keeper and - crier (general - service) 120 0 - Bailiff, &c. 100 0 - Strong-room keeper 80 0 - One messenger 70 0 - Two do., £40 each 80 0 - Three errand-boys, - £32 each 96 0 - Housekeeper 150 0 - --------- - Yearly total £13,874 0 - -This is called a “reduced” staff, and the reduction of salaries is -certainly very considerable. - -If we consider the yearly emoluments of tradesmen in businesses -requiring no great extent of education or general intelligence, the -salaries of the surveyors, clerk of the works, &c., must appear very -far from extravagant; and when we consider their responsibility and -what may be called their removability, some of the salaries may be -pronounced mean; for I think it must be generally admitted by all, -except the narrow-minded, who look merely at the immediate outlay as -the be-all and the end-all of every expenditure, that if the surveyors, -clerks of works, inspectors of flushing, &c., be the best men who could -be procured (as they ought to be), or at any rate be thorough masters -of their craft, they are rather underpaid than overpaid. - -The above statement may be analysed in the following manner:-- - - _£ s._ _£_ - - Chairman 1,000 - Secretary and 7 clerks 1860 0 - Accountant and 5 clerks 1015 0 - Clerk of rates and 3 - clerks 630 0 - ------- - 3,505 - Engineer and 5 clerks 1830 0 - 7 surveyors, of surveying - and drawing staff, with - 6 chainmen and 9 drawing - clerks 2125 0 - 5 district surveyors 1500 0 - 12 clerks of works 2278 0 - 9 inspectors of flushing 720 0 - 22 flap and sluice - keepers 892 12 - Bailiff, marsh-bailiff, and - wallreeve 187 8 - ------- - 9,533 - Office keeper, strong-room - keeper, and housekeeper 350 0 - 3 messengers and 3 errand-boys 246 0 - ------ - 596 - ------ - £14,634 - -The cost of rent, taxes, stationery, and office incidentals, is now -4440_l._, which makes the total yearly outlay amount to upwards of -19,000_l._ The annual cost of the staff in the secretary’s department -is said to have been reduced from 3962_l._ 4_s._ to 3605_l._; in the -engineers’ department from 16,437_l._ 3_s._ to 8973_l._ 16_s._ In the -general service there has been an increase from 606_l._ 16_s._ to -696_l._ - -A deputation who waited lately upon Lord John Russell is said to have -declared the expenses of the Commissioners’ office to be at the rate -of from 25 to 30 per cent. on the amount of rate collected. The sum -collected in the year 1850 averaged 89,341_l._ The cost of management -in that year was 23,465_l._; this, it will be seen, is 26 per cent of -the gross income. - -The annual statement of the receipts and expenditure under the -Commission for the year 1851 has just been published, but not -_officially_; from this it appears that in February, 1851-- - - The balance of cash in hand _£ s. d._ - was 5,750 9 11 - The total receipts during the - year have amounted to 129,000 0 9 - ------------- - Making together 134,750 10 8 - -The expenditure, as returned under the general head, is-- - - For work £95,539 19 3 - (This item includes the cost - of supervision and compensation - for damages.) - The cost of surveys has been 6,332 19 9 - Management 16,430 9 2 - Loans 10,442 10 2 - Contingencies 2,749 1 1 - ------------- - Total payments 131,494 19 5 - Balance in hand £3,355 11 3 - -As an instance of the mismanagement of the sewers work of the -metropolis, it is but right that the subjoined document should be -published. - -I need not offer any comment on the following “Return to an Address of -the Honourable the House of Commons, dated 28th July, 1851,” except -that I was told early in January, on good authority, that the matter -was now worse than it was when reported as follows:-- - - “_Privy Gardens, Whitehall Yard, Scotland Yard, &c., Public Sewer._ - - “With reference to the two orders of the Commissioners of Her - Majesty’s Woods, &c., I have the honour to state that, since the 15th - of November (when I last sent in a memorandum), I have frequently - visited the several Crown buildings affected by the building of - the main public sewer for draining Westminster; viz., the Earl of - Malmsbury’s, the Exchequer Bill Office, the United Service Museum, - Lord Liverpool’s, Mr. Vertue’s, Mr. Alderman Thompson’s, and Messrs. - Dalgleish’s. - - “All these buildings have been more or less damaged by the - construction of the sewer; the Exchequer Bill Office, the United - Service Museum, and Mr. Vertue’s, in a manner that, in my opinion, can - _never be effectually repaired_. - - “At Lord Malmsbury’s, the party wall next to the Exchequer Bill Office - has _moved_, as shown by some cracks in the staircase; but for this - house it may not be necessary to require more to be done than stopping - and painting. - - “At the Exchequer Bill Office, the old Gothic groins have been cracked - in several places, and several settlements have taken place in the - walls over and near to where the sewer passes under the building. - The shores are still standing against this building, but it would - now be better to remove them; the cracks in the groins and walls - _can never be repaired_ to render the building so substantial as it - was before. The cracks in the basement still from month to month - show a very slight movement; those in the staircase and roof also - appear to increase. As respects this building, I would submit to the - Commissioners of Woods that it _would not be advisable to permit - the surveyors of the Commissioners of Sewers to enter and make only - a surface repair of plaster and paint_; but I would suggest that a - careful survey be made by surveyors appointed respectively by the - Board of Woods and the Commissioners of Sewers, and that a thorough - repair of the building be made (so far as it is susceptible of - repair), under the Board of Woods; the Commissioners of Sewers paying - such proportion of the cost thereof as may fairly be deemed to have - been occasioned by their proceedings. - - “At the United Service Museum, the settlements on the side next the - sewer appear to me very serious. - - “The house occupied by Lord Liverpool, as also Mr. Vertue’s house, of - which his Lordship is Crown lessee, were both affected, the former to - some extent, but not seriously; of the latter, the west front sunk, - and pulled over the whole house with it; but as respects these two - houses the interference of the Board is, I believe, unnecessary, Mr. - Hardwicke (one of the Sewer Commissioners) having, as architect for - Lord Liverpool, caused both to be repaired. - - “A like repair has also been made in the kitchen offices of Mr. - Alderman Thompson’s house, where alone any cracks appeared. - - “At Messrs. Dalgleish and Taylor’s, very serious injury has been done - to both their buildings and their trade. The Commissioners of Sewers - have a steam-engine still at work on those premises, and have not yet - concluded their operations there. Some of the sheds which entirely - fell down they have rebuilt; and others, which appear in a very - defective if not dangerous state, it is understood they propose to - repair or rebuild; but as eventually Messrs. Dalgleish and Taylor will - have a very heavy claim against them for interference with business, - and as the extent of damage to the buildings which has been done, or - may hereafter arise, cannot at present be fully ascertained, it would - probably be advisable to postpone this part of the subject, giving - notice, however, to the Commissioners of Sewers that it must hereafter - come under consideration. - - (Signed) “JAMES PENNETHORNE. - - “10th May, 1851.” - - “_Sewer, Whitehall Yard, &c._ - - “Under the order of the Commissioners of Her Majesty’s Woods, &c., - of yesterday’s date, endorsed on a letter from Mr. Tonna, I have - inspected the United Service Institution in Whitehall Yard, and find - most of the cracks have moved. - - “The movement, though slight, and not showing immediate danger, is - more than I had anticipated would occur within so short a period - when I reported on the 10th instant. It tends to confirm the opinion - therein given, and shows the necessity for immediate precaution, and - for a thorough repair. - - (Signed) “JAMES PENNETHORNE. - - “16th May, 1851. - - {Commissioners of Her - “SEYMOUR, {Majesty’s Woods, Forests, - “CHARLES GORE, {Land Revenues, - {Works, and Buildings. - - “Office of Woods, &c. - - “5th August, 1851.” - - -OF THE SEWERS RATE. - -Having shown the expenditure of the Commission of Sewers, we now come -to consider its income. - -The funds available for the sewerage and drainage of the several towns -throughout the kingdom, are raised by means of a particular property -tax, termed the Sewers Rate. This forms part of what are designated the -_Local_ Taxes of England and Wales. - -Local taxes are of two classes:-- - -I. Rates raised upon property in _defined_ districts, as parishes, -jurisdictions, counties, &c. - -II. Tolls, dues, and fees charged for particular services on particular -occasions, as turnpike tolls, harbour dues, &c., &c. - -The rates or sums raised upon the property lying within a certain -circumscribed locality, admit of being subdivided into two orders-- - -1. The rates of _independent_ districts, or those which, being required -for a particular district (as the parish or some equivalent territorial -limit), are not only levied within the bounds of that district, but -expended for the purposes of it alone; as is the case with the poor -rate. - -2. The rates of _aggregate_ districts, or those which, though required -to be expended for the purposes of a given district (such as the -county), are raised in detail in the several inferior districts (such -as the various parishes) which compose the larger one, and which -contribute the sums thus levied to one common fund; such is the case -with the county rate. - -But the rates of independent districts may be further distinguished -into two orders, viz.-- - -i. Those which are levied on the same classes of persons, the same -kinds of property, and the same principles of valuation as the poor -rate; such are the highway rate, the lighting and watching, and the -militia rate among the independent rates; and the police, borough, and -county rates among the aggregate rates. - -ii. Those which are _not_ levied on the same basis as the poor rate. -The church and sewers rates are familiar instances of this peculiarity. - -The sewers rate, then, is a local tax required for an _independent_ -rather than an _aggregate_ district, and is _not_ levied upon the basis -of the poor law. - -The assessment of the poor rate, for instance, includes tithes of every -kind, that of the sewers rate extends to such tithes only as are in -the hands of laymen. Again, the sewers rate embraces some incorporeal -hereditaments to which the poor rate does not extend; but stock in -trade, which of late years has been specially exempted from the poor -rate, was never subject to the sewers rate. - -A sewers rate, however, was known as early as the sixth year of Henry -VI. (1427), though “commissions” were not instituted till the time of -Henry VIII. The Act which now regulates the collection of the funds -required for the cleansing, building, repairs, and improvements of the -sewers, is 4 and 5 Vict. (1841). This statute gives the “Courts” or -“Commissions” of Sewers, power “to tax in the gross” in each parish, -&c., all lands, &c., within the jurisdiction of such courts, for the -requirements of the public sewerage. This impost is not periodically -levied, nor at any stated or even regularly recurring term, but “as -occasion requires:” perhaps once in two or three years. It is (with -some exceptions, which require no notice) what is commonly called “a -landlord’s tax” in the metropolis, that is, the sewers-rate collector -must be paid by the occupier of the premises, who, on the production of -the collector’s receipt, can deduct the amount from his rent. If this -arrangement were meant to convey a notion to the public that the sewers -tax was a tax on property--on the capitalist who owns, and not on the -tenant who merely occupies--it is a shallow device, for every one must -know that the more sewers rate a tenant pays _for_ his landlord, the -more rent he must pay _to_ him. - -The sewers rate is levied according to the rateable value put upon -property by the surveyors and assessors appointed by the Commissioners, -who may make the rate “by such ways and means, and in such manner and -form, as to them may seem most convenient.” It seems a question yet to -be determined whether or not there is a right of appeal against the -sewers rate, but the general opinion is that there is _no appeal_. -The rate can be mortgaged by the Commissioners if an advance of money -is considered desirable. The maximum of 1_s._ in the pound on the net -annual value of the property was fixed by the Act. The Commissioners -have also the power to levy a “special rate” on any district not -connected with the general system of sewerage, but which it has been -resolved should be so connected; also an “improvement rate,” at a -maximum of 10 per cent. on the rack rent, “in respect of works they may -judge to be of private benefit,” a provision which has called forth -some comments. - -The metropolitan sewers rate is now collected in nine districts. - -There are at present 42 Commissions or Courts of Sewers throughout -England and Wales. - -The only return which has yet been prepared of the annual amount -assessed and collected under the authority of the Metropolitan -Commission of Sewers, is one presented to the House of Commons in 1843. -It includes the sum assessed in four of the eight districts within -the jurisdiction of the Metropolitan Commissioners from 1831 to 1840 -inclusive. - - ------------------------+------------+------------ - |Total in the| Annual - Districts. | 10 years. | Average. - ------------------------+------------+------------ - | £ | £ - Westminster | 235,397 | 23,539-7/10 - Holborn and Finsbury | 123,317 | 12,331-7/10 - Tower Hamlets | 82,468 | 8,246-8/10 - From East Moulsey, | | - in Surrey, to | | - Ravensbourne, in Kent | 175,137 | 17,513-7/10 - ------------------------+------------+------------ - | 616,319 | 61,631-9/10 - ------------------------+------------+------------ - -The following amounts were returned to Parliament as that expended in -two other of the metropolitan districts in the year 1833:-- - - In the City £17,718-2/10 - Poplar district 2,746-9/10 - ------------ - £20,465-1/10 - - Annual average of the four above-mentioned - districts 61,631-9/10 - -------------------------------------------------- - Yearly total £82,097 - -The two districts excluded from the above total are the minor ones of -St. Katherine and Greenwich, so that altogether the gross sum levied -within the jurisdiction of the Metropolitan Commissioners must have -been between 85,000_l._ and 90,000_l._ - -The annual amount of the local rates in England and Wales is, according -to a work on the subject (“The Local Taxes of the United Kingdom”), -published “under the direction of the Poor Law Commissioners” in 1846, -8,801,838_l._[68] In this large sum only the average annual outlay -on the six districts of the sewers of the metropolis is included -(82,097_l._), and it is stated that not even an approximate average -could be arrived at as regards the expenditure on sewers in the country -districts. Such absence of statistical knowledge,--and it is a want -continually observable--is little creditable to the legislative, -executive, and administrative powers of the State. - -I shall now proceed to show, from the best data at my command, the -present outlay on the metropolitan sewers. - -According to the present law, the Commissioners are required to submit -to Parliament yearly returns of the money collected on account of, and -expended in, the sewerage of the metropolis. - -I need only state, that in the latest and, indeed, the sole returns -upon the subject, the rates in 1845-6-7, under the former separate -commissions, were 1_d._ and 2_d._ in the pound on land, and from 3_d._ -(Ranelagh and Westminster) to 1_s._ 10_d._ (Greenwich) on houses. - -The rates made under the combined and consolidated Commissions, from -30th Nov., 1847, to 8th Oct., 1849, were all 6_d._, excepting the -Western division of Westminster sewers, which were 3_d._, and a part of -the Surrey and Kent district, 8_d._ - -The rates under the present Metropolitan Commission, from 8th October, -1849, to 31st July, 1851, are all 6_d._, with a similar exception in -Surrey and Kent. The following are the only further returns bearing -immediately on the subject:-- - -RETURN OF THE PERCENTAGE ON THE TOTAL RATEABLE ANNUAL VALUE OF THE -PROPERTY ASSESSED, to which the Rates collected under the separate -COMMISSIONS, between January, 1845, and November, 1847, amounted; -SIMILAR RETURN as to the combined and consolidated COMMISSIONS, from -November, 1847, to October, 1849; and as to the present COMMISSION, -from October, 1849, to July 31, 1851. - - ------------------------------------+---------------------+----------------+----------------------------------+ - | Total Rateable | | - | Annual Value of the | | Amount of the - | Districts on | Average Amount | Percentage of - | November 30, 1847, | collected | the Rates collected - | and October 8, 1849,| for One Year. | on the Rateable - | and July 31, 1851, | | Annual Value. - | respectively. | | - ------------------------------------+---------------------+----------------+----------------------------------+ - | £ _s._ _d._| _£ s. d._| _£ s. d._ - Under the old separate Commissions }| | | - of Sewers, between }| 6,683,896 0 0 | 81,738 11 0 |{ 1 4 5 or 2-3/4_d._ ·72 in the - January, 1845, and November }| | |{ pound per annum. - 30, 1847 }| | | - | | | - Under the combined and consolidated}| | | - Commissions, from November }| | |{ 0 18 11-3/4 or 2-1/4_d._ ·11 in - 30, 1847, to October 8, }| 7,128,111 0 0 | 67,707 16 3 |{ the pound per - 1849 (including first Metropolitan }| | |{ annum. - Commission) }| | | - | | | - Under the present Metropolitan }| 8,135,090[69] 0 0 |{ |{ 1 1 11 or 2-1/2_d._ ·52 in the - Commission of Sewers, from October }| |{ 89,341 16 0 |{ pound per annum. - 8, 1849, to July 21, 1851 }| 8,820,325[70] 0 0 |{ |{ 1 0 3 or 2-1/4_d._ ·72 in the - | | |{ pound per annum. - ------------------------------------+---------------------+----------------+----------------------------------+ - - AUGUST, 1851. - - THOMAS COGGIN, - _Clerk of Rates and Collections._ - -return of the present annual amount of the local rates in England and -Wales. - - I. RATES. - - A. RATES OF INDEPENDENT DISTRICTS. - - 1. _On the basis of the poor rate._ - - The poor rate, including the purposes - of-- - The workhouse building rate } - The survey and valuation rate } - Relief of the poor £4,976,093 - Other objects 567,567 - Contributions to county and borough - rates (see below). - Jail fees rate } - Constables rate } unknown - Highway rates 1,312,812 - Lighting and watching rate unknown - Militia rate not needed - - 2. _Not on the basis of the poor rate._ - - Church rates 506,812 - Sewers rate-- - General sewers tax-- - In the metropolis 82,097 - In the rest of the country unknown - Drainage and inclosure rates } - Inclosure rate } unknown - Regulated pasture rate } - - B. RATES OF AGGREGATE DISTRICTS. - - County rates { Contributed } - Hundred rate { from the } 1,356,457 - Borough rates { poor rate. } - ---------- - Total rates of England and Wales £8,801,834 - -The amount of the taxation in the shape of tolls, dues, and fees is as -follows:-- - - II. TOLLS, DUES, AND FEES. - - Turnpike tolls £1,348,085 - Borough tolls and dues £172,911 - City of London 205,100 - -------- 378,011 - Light dues 257,776 - Port dues 554,645 - Church dues and fees } - Marriage fees } unknown - Registration fees } - Justiciary fees-- - Clerks of the Peace £11,057 - Justices’ clerks 57,668 - ------- 68,725 - ---------- - - Total tolls, dues, and fees of - England and Wales £2,607,241 - -The subjoined, then adds the same work, founded on the preceding -details, may be regarded as exhibiting an approximate estimate of -the present amount of the local taxes in England and Wales, _being, -however, obviously below the actual total_. - - Rates £8,801,838 - Tolls, dues, and fees 2,607,241 - ---------- £11,409,079 - -“The annual amount of the local taxation of England and Wales may -at the present time be stated, in round numbers, at not less than -£12,000,000;” or we may say that the local taxation of the country is -one-fourth of the amount of the general taxation. - - -RETURN OF THE COST OF MANAGEMENT PER ANNUM ON THE TOTAL RATEABLE ANNUAL -VALUE OF THE DISTRICTS. - - --------+------------------+----------------+----------------------------- - | Total | | Rate per Cent. - |Rateable Annual | Cost of | per Annum of Cost of - YEARS. | Value of the | Management | Management on the - | Districts. | per Annum. | Rateable Annual - | | | Value of the Districts. - --------+------------------+----------------+-------------------------+ - | £ _s._ _d._| £ _s._ _d._| £ _s._ _d._ - 1845 | 6,320,331 0 0 | 18,591 4 3 | 0 5 10-1/2 - 1846 | 6,423,909 0 0 | 18,097 5 1 | 0 5 7-1/2 - 1847 | 6,683,896 0 0 | 24,371 16 9 | 0 7 3-1/2 - 1848 | 6,783,111 0 0 | 20,008 7 10 | 0 5 10-3/4 - 1849 | 8,077,591 0 0 | 20,005 7 6 | 0 4 11-1/4 - 1850 | 8,791,967 0 0 | 23,465 18 7 | 0 5 4 - --------+------------------+----------------+-------------------------+ - - - AUGUST 7, 1851. - - G. S. HATTON, - _Accountant._ - - -OF THE CLEANSING OF THE SEWERS--VENTILATION. - -There are two modes of purifying the sewers; the one consists in -removing the foul air, the other in removing the solid deposits. I -shall deal first with that mode of purification which consists in the -mechanical removal or chemical decomposition of the noxious gases -engendered within the sewers. - -This is what is termed the Ventilation of the Sewers, and forms a -very important branch of the inquiry into the character and working -of the underground refuse-channels, for it relates to the risk of -explosions and the consequent risk of destruction to men’s lives; -while, if the sewer be ill-ventilated, the surrounding atmosphere is -often prejudicially affected by the escape of impure air from the -subterranean channels. - -A survey as to the ventilation, &c., of the sewers was made by Mr. -Hawkins, Assistant-Surveyor, and Mr. Jenkins, Clerk of the Works. -Four examinations took place of sewers; of those in Bloomsbury; -those from Tottenham-court-road to Norfolk-street, Strand; from the -Guard-room in Buckingham Palace to the Horseferry-road, Millbank; and -in Grosvenor-square and the streets adjacent. There were difficulties -attending the experiment. From Castle-street to Museum-street there was -a drop of 4 feet in the levels, so that the examiners had to advance on -their hands and knees, and it was difficult to make observations. In -some places in Westminster also the water and silt were knee deep, and -the lamps (three were used) splashed all over. In Bloomsbury the sewers -gave no token of the presence of any gas, but in the other places its -presence was very perceptible, especially in a sewer on the west side -of Grosvenor-square, a very low one, in which the gas was ignited -within the wire shade of one of the lamps, but without producing any -effect beyond that of immediately extinguishing the light. There was -also during the route, in the neighbourhood of Sir Henry Meux’s brewery -and of an adjoining distillery in Vine-street, a considerable quantity -of steam in the sewer, but it had no material effect upon the light. - -The examiners came to the conclusion that where there was any -liability to an explosion from the presence of carburetted hydrogen, -or other causes, the Improved Davy Lamp afforded an almost certain -protection. - -The attention of the Commissioners seems to have been chiefly given -of late, as regards ventilation and indeed general improvement, -to the sewers on the Surrey side of the metropolis. Among these a -new sewer along Friar-street, running from the Blackfriars to the -Southwark-bridge-road, is one of the most noticeable. - -Friar-street is one of the smaller off thoroughfares, the character -of which is, perhaps, little suspected by those who pass along the -open Blackfriars-road. As you turn out of that road to the left hand, -advancing from the bridge, almost opposite the Magdalen Hospital, is -Friar-street. On its left hand, as you proceed along it, are gas-works, -and the factories, or work places, of tradesmen in the soap-boiling, -tallow-melting, cat and other gut manufacturing, bone-boiling, and -other noisome callings. On the right hand are a series of short and -often neatly-built streets, but the majority of them have the look of -unmistakable squalor or poverty, though _not_ of the poverty of the -industrious. Across Flint-street, Green-street, and other ways, few of -them horse thoroughfares, hang, on a fair day, lines of washed clothes -to dry. Yellow-looking chemises and petticoats are affixed alongside -men’s trowsers and waistcoats; coarse-featured and brazen-looking -women, with necks and faces reddened, as if with brick-dust, from -exposure to the weather, stand at their doors and beckon to the passers -by. Perhaps in no part of the metropolis is there a more marked -manifestation of moral obsceneness on the one hand, and physical -obsceneness on the other. With the low prostitution of this locality -is mixed the low and the bold crime of the metropolis. Some of the -off-shoots from Friar-street communicate with places of as nefarious a -character. Hackett, whom his newspaper admirers seem to wish to elevate -into the fame of a second Jack Sheppard, resided in this quarter. The -gang who were last winter repulsed in their burglarious attack on Mr. -Holford’s villa in the Regent’s-park favoured the same locality, and -were arrested in their old haunts. Public-houses may be seen here and -there--houses, perhaps, not greatly discouraged by the police--which -are at once the rendezvous and the trap of offenders, for to and from -such resorts they can be readily traced. And all over this place of -moral degradation extends the stench of offensive manufactures and -ill-ventilated sewers. Certainly there is now an improvement, but it is -still bad enough. - -A Report of the 21st September, 1848, shows that a new sewer, -1500 feet in length, had been “put in along Friar-street, with a -fall of 15 inches from the level of the sewer in Blackfriars-road -to Suffolk-street. The sewer,” states the Report, “with which it -communicates at its upper end in the Blackfriars-road contains nearly -2 feet in depth of soil; it in consequence has silted up to that -level with semi-fluid black filth, principally from the factories, of -the most poisonous and sickening description, forming an _elongated -cesspool_ 1500 feet in length, the filth at its lower end being upwards -of 3 feet in depth. Since the building of this sewer, the foul matter -so discharged into it has been in a state of decomposition, constantly -giving off pestilential and poisonous gases, which have spread into -and filled the adjoining sewers; thence they are being drawn into the -houses by the house-drains, and into the streets by the street-drains, -to such a fearful extent as to infect the whole atmosphere of the -neighbourhood, and so to cause the very offensive odour so generally -complained of there. Sulphuretted hydrogen is present in these sewers -in large quantities, as metals, silver and copper, are attacked and -blackened by it; and the smell from it is so sickening as to be almost -unbearable.” - -On the question of how best to deal with sewers such as the -Friar-street, Messrs. John Roe and John Phillips (surveyors) and -Mr. Henry Austin (consulting engineer) have agreed in the following -opinion:-- - -“The most simple and convenient method would be by placing large strong -fires in shafts directly over the crown of the sewers. The expense of -each furnace, with the inclosure around it, will be about 20_l._ The -fires would be fed almost constantly, by which little smoke would be -generated. The heat to be produced from these fires would rarefy the -air so much as to create rapidly ascending currents in the shafts, and -strong draughts through the sewers, the foul air in which would then be -drawn to the fires and there consumed; and as it was being destroyed -fresh air would be drawn in at all the existing inlets of house and -street drains, pushing forward and supplying the place of the foul air.” - -Concerning the explosions of, or deaths in, the sewers from the impure -gases, there is, I believe, no statistical account. The most remarkable -catastrophe of this kind was the death of five persons in a sewer in -Pimlico, in October, 1849; of these, three were regular sewer-men, and -the others were a policeman and Mr. Wells, a surgeon, who went into the -sewer in the hopes of giving assistance. Mr. Phillips, the then chief -surveyor of the Commission of Sewers, stated that the cause of these -deaths in the sewers was entirely an exceptional case, and the gas -which had caused the accident inquired into was not a sewer gas. “There -is often,” he said, “a great escape of gas from the mains, which found -its way into the sewers. The gas, however, which has done the mischief -in the present instance would not explode.” - -Dr. Ure’s opinion was, that the deceased men died from asphixia, caused -by inhaling sulphuretted hydrogen and carbonic acid gas in mixture with -prussic vapour, and that these noxious emanations were derived from the -refuse lime of gas-works thrown in with other rubbish to make up the -road above the sewer. Other scientific gentlemen attributed the five -deaths to the action of sulphuretted hydrogen gas, or, according to Dr. -Lyon Playfair, to be chemically correct, hydro-sulphate of ammonia. The -coroner (Mr. Bedford), in summing up, said that Mr. Phillips wished it -to be supposed that gas lime was the cause of the foul gas; and Dr. -Ure said that gas lime had to do with the calamity. But Dr. Miller, -Mr. Richard Phillips, Mr. Campbell, and Dr. Playfair, more especially -the latter, were perfectly sure that lime had nothing to do with it. -The verdict was the following:--“We find that Daniel Pert, Thomas Gee, -and John Attwood died from the inhalation of noxious gas generated in -a neglected and unventilated sewer in Kenilworth-street. And we find -that Henry Wells and John Walsh met their deaths from the same cause, -in their laudable endeavours to save the lives of the first three -sufferers. The jury unanimously consider the commissioners and officers -of the Metropolitan Sewers are much to blame for having neglected to -avail themselves of the unusual advantages offered, from the local -situation of the Grosvenor-canal, for the purpose of flushing the -sewers in this district.” - - -OF “FLUSHING” AND “PLONGING,” AND OTHER MODES OF WASHING THE SEWERS. - -The next step in our inquiry--and that which at present concerns us -more than any other--is the mode of removing the solid deposits from -the sewers, as well as the condition of the workmen connected with -that particular branch of labour. The sewers are the means by which -a larger proportion of the wet refuse of the metropolis is removed -from our houses, and we have now to consider the means by which the -more solid part of this refuse is removed from the sewers themselves. -The latter operation is quite as essential to health and cleanliness -as the former; for to allow the filth to collect in the channels -which are intended to remove it, and there to remain decomposing and -vitiating the atmosphere of the metropolis, is manifestly as bad as not -to remove it at all; and since the more solid portions of the sewage -_will_ collect and form hard deposits at the bottom of each duct, it -becomes necessary that some means should be devised for the periodical -purgation of the sewers themselves. - -[Illustration: FLUSHING THE SEWERS. - -(_Partly from a Daguerreotype by_ BEARD, _and partly from a Sketch -kindly lent by_ MR. WHITING.)] - -There have been two modes of effecting this object. The one has -been the _carting_ away of the more solid refuse, and the other the -_washing_ of it away, or, as it is termed, _flushing_ in the case of -the _covered_ sewers, and _plonging_ in the case of the _open_ ones. -Under both systems, whether the refuse be carted or flushed away, -the hard deposit has to be first loosened by manual labourers--the -difference consisting principally in the means of after-removal. - -The first of these systems--viz., the cartage method--was that which -prevailed in the metropolis till the year 1847. I shall therefore -give a brief description of this mode of cleansing the sewers before -proceeding to treat of the now more general mode of “flushing.” - -Under the old system, the clearing away of the deposit was a -“nightman’s” work, differing little, except in being more toilsome, -offensive to the public, and difficult. A hole was made from the street -down into the sewer where the deposit was thickest, and the deposit was -raised by means of a tub, filled below, drawn up to the street, and -emptied into a cart, or spread in mounds in the road to be shovelled -into some vehicle. A nightman told me that this mode of work was -sometimes a great injury to his trade, because “when it was begun on a -night many of the householders sleeping in the neighbourhood used to -say to themselves, or to their missusses, as they turned in their beds, -‘It’s them ere cussed cesspools again! I wish they was done away with.’ -An’ all the time, sir, the cesspools was as hinnocent and as sweet as a -hangel.” - -This clumsy and filthy process is now but occasionally resorted to. A -man who had superintended a labour of this kind in a narrow, but busy -thoroughfare in Southwark, told me that these sewer labourers were the -worst abused men in London. No one had a good word for them. - -But there have been other modes of removing the indurated sewage, -besides that of cartage; and which, though not exactly flushing, -certainly consisted in allowing the deposit to be washed away. Some of -these contrivances were curious enough. - -I learn from a Report printed in 1849, that the King’s Scholars’ Pond -Sewer, in the city of Westminster, running near the Abbey, contained -a continuous bed of deposit, of soil, sand, and filth, from 10 to 30 -inches in depth, and this for a mile and a half next the river--the -first mile yielding more than 6000 loads of matter. This sewer was to -be cleansed. - -“We first used a machine,” says Mr. J. Lysander Hale, “in the form of a -plough and harrow combined; a horse dragged it through the deposit in -the sewer; one man attended the horse, and another guided the plough. -The work done by this machine, in cutting a channel through the soil -and causing the water to move through it quickly, was effectual to -remove the deposit; but as the sewer is a tidal sewer, and its sole -entrance for a horse being its outlet, the machine could only be used -for a small part of any day. Sometimes with a strong breeze up the -river, the tide would not recede sufficiently to permit the horse to -get in at all (and it did not appear advisable to incur the expense of -50_l._ to build a sideway entrance for the animal), so that under these -circumstances we were obliged to discontinue the use of the horse -and plough; which, under other circumstances, would have been very -effective.” From this time, I understand, the sewers of London have -remained unploughed by means of horse labour. - -But the plough was not altogether abandoned, and as horse-power was -not found very easily applicable, water-power was resorted to. The -plough and harrow were attached to a barge, which was introduced into -the sewer. The sluice gates were kept shut until the ebb of the tide -made the difference of level between the contents of the sewer and the -surface of the Thames equal to some eight feet. “The gates were then -suddenly opened, and the rapid and deep current of water following, was -then sufficient to bring the barge and plough down the sewer with a -force equal to five or six horse-power.” - -This last-mentioned method was also soon abandoned. We now come to the -more approved plan of “flushing.” - -“The term ‘_flushing_ sewers’ implies,” says Mr. Haywood, in his -Report, “cleansing by the application of _bodies_ of water in the -sewers; this is periodically effected, varying in intervals according -to the necessities of the sewerage or other circumstances.” - -The flushing system has a two-fold object, viz., to remove old deposits -and prevent the accumulation of new. When the deposit is not allowed to -accumulate and harden, “flushing consists,” says Mr. Haywood, “simply -in heading back and letting off _flush at once_” (hence the origin of -the term) “that which has been delivered into the sewers in a certain -number of hours by the various houses draining into them, diluted with -large quantities of water specially employed for the purpose.” - -Though the operation of “flushing” is one of modern introduction, -as regards the metropolis--one, indeed, which may be said to have -originated in the modern demand for improved sanitary regulations--it -has been practised in some country parts since the days of Henry VIII. - -Flushing was practised also by those able engineers, the ancient -Romans. One of the grand architectural remains of that people, the best -showing their system of flushing, is in the Amphitheatre at Nismes, in -France. The site of the ruined amphitheatre presents a large elliptical -area, 114,251 superficial feet comprising its extent. Around the arena -ran a large sewer 3 feet 6 inches in width, and 4 feet 9 inches in -height. With this sewer, elliptical in shape, 348 pipes communicated, -carrying into it the rain-fall and the refuse caused by the resort of -23,000 persons, for the seats alone contained that number. “The system -of flushing, practised here,” says Mr. Cresy, “with such advantage, -deserves to be noticed, there being means of driving through this -elliptical sewer a volume of water at pleasure, with such force that no -solid matter could by any possibility remain within any of the drains -or sewers. An aqueduct, 2 feet 8 inches in width, and 6 feet in height, -brought this water from the reservoirs of Nismes, not only to fill but -to purge the whole of these sewers; after traversing the arena, it -deviated a little to the south-west, where it was carried out at the -sixth arcade, east of the southern entrance. Man-holes and steps to -descend into this capacious vaulted aqueduct were introduced in several -places; and there can be no doubt that by directing for some hours such -a stream of water through it, the greatest cleanliness was preserved -throughout all the sewers of the building.” - -The flushing of sewers appears to have been introduced into the -metropolis by Mr. John Roe in the year 1847, but did not come into -general use till some years later. There used to be a partial flushing -of the London sewers twelve years ago. The mode of flushing as at -present practised is as follows:-- - -In the first instance the inspector examines and reports the condition -of the sewer, and receives and issues his orders accordingly. When -the sewer is ordered to be flushed--and there is no periodical or -regular observance of time in the operation--the men enter the sewers -and rake up the deposit, loosening it everywhere, so as to render the -whole easy to be swept along by the power of the volume of water. The -sewers generally are, in their widest part, provided with grooves, or, -as the men style them, “framings.” Into these framings are fitted, or -permanently attached, what I heard described as “penstocks,” but which -are spoken of in some of the reports as “traps,” “gates,” or “sluice -gates.” They are made both of wood and iron. By a series of bolts and -adjustments, the penstocks can be fixed ready for use when the tide is -highest in the sewer, and the volume of water the greatest. They then, -of course, are in the nature of dams, the water having accumulated -in consequence of the stoppage. The deposit having been loosened, -the bolts are withdrawn, when the gates suddenly fly back, and the -accumulated water and stirred-up sewage sweeps along impetuously, while -the men retreat into some side recesses adapted for the purpose. The -same is done with each penstock until the matter is swept through the -outlet. The men always follow the course of this sewage-current when -the sewer is of sufficient capacity to enable them to do so, throwing -or pushing forward any more solid matter with their shovels. - -“To flush we generally go and draw a slide up and let a flush of water -down,” said one man to me, “and then we have iron rakers to loosen the -stuff. We have got another way that we do it as well; one man stands -here, when the flush of water’s coming down, with a large board; then -he lets the water rise to the top of this board, and then there’s -two or three of us on ahead, with shovels, loosening the stuff--then -he ups with this board and lets a good heavy flush of water come -down. Precious hard work it is, I can assure you. I’ve had many a wet -shirt. We stand up to our fork in the water, right to the top of our -jack-boots, and sometimes over them.” “Ah, I should think you often -get over the top of yours, for you come home with your stockings -wet enough, goodness knows,” exclaimed his wife, who was present. -“When there’s a good flush of water coming down,” he resumed, “we’re -obligated to put our heads fast up against the crown of the sewer, and -bear upon our shovels, so that we may not be carried away, and taken -bang into the Thames. You see there’s nothing for us to lay hold on. -Why, there was one chap went and lifted a slide right up, when he ought -to have had it up only 9 or 10 inches at the furthest, and he nearly -swamped three of us. If we should be taken off our legs there’s a heavy -fall--about 3 feet--just before you comes to the mouth of the sewer, -and if we was to get there, the water is so rapid nothing could save -us. When we goes to work we nails our lanterns up to the crown of the -sewer. When the slide is lifted up the rush is very great, and takes -all before it. It roars away like a wild beast. We’re always obliged -to work according to tide, both above and below ground. When we have -got no water in the sewer we shovels the dirt up into a bank on both -sides, so that when the flush of water comes down the loosened dirt is -all carried away by it. After flushing, the bottom of the sewer is as -clean as this floor, but in a couple of months the soil is a foot to 15 -inches deep, and middling hard.” - -“Flushing-gates,” an engineer has reported, “are chiefly of use in -sewers badly constructed and without falls, but containing plenty of -water; and they are of very little use where the gate has to be shut -24 hours and longer, before a head of water has accumulated; but where -intermittent flushing is practised, strong smells are often caused -_solely_ by the stagnation of the water or sewage while accumulating -behind the gate.” - -The most general mode of flushing at present adopted is not to keep in -the water, &c., which has flowed into the sewer from the streets and -houses, as well as the tide of the river, but to convey the flushing -water from the plugs of the water companies into the kennels, and so -into the sewers. I find in one of the Reports acknowledgments of the -liberal supplies granted for flushing by the several companies. The -water of the Surrey Canal has been placed, for the same object, at the -disposal of the Sewer Commissioners. - -It is impossible to “flush” at all where a sewer has a “dead-end;” that -is, where there is a “block,” as in the case of the Kenilworth-street -sewer, Pimlico, in which five persons lost their lives in 1848. - -There is no difference in the system of flushing in the Metropolitan -and City jurisdictions, except that for the greater facilities of -the process, the City provides water-tanks in Newgate-market, where -the heads of three sewers meet, and where the accumulation of animal -garbage, and the fierceness and numbers of the rats attracted thereby, -were at one time frightful; at Leadenhall-market, and elsewhere, such -tanks were also provided to the number of ten, the largest being -the Newgate-market tank, which is a brick cistern of 8000 gallons -capacity. Of these tanks, however, only four are now kept filled, for -this collection of water is found unnecessary, the regular system of -flushing answering the purpose without them; and I understand that in -a little time there will be no tanks at all. The tank is filled, when -required, by a water company, and the penstocks being opened, the water -rushes into the sewers with great force. There is also another point -peculiar to the City--in it all the sewers are flushed regularly twice -a week; in the metropolitan sewers, only when the inspector pronounces -flushing to be required. The City plan appears the best to prevent the -accumulation of deposit. - -There still remains to be described the system of “_plonging_,” or mode -of cleansing the open sewers, as contradistinguished from “_flushing_,” -or the cleansing of the covered sewers. - -“When we go plonging,” one man said, “we has long poles with a piece -of wood at the end of them, and we stirs up the mud at the bottom of -the ditches while the tide’s a going down. We has got slides at the end -of the ditches, and we pulls these up and lets out the water, mud, and -all, into the Thames.” “Yes, for the people to drink,” said a companion -drily. “We’re in the water a great deal,” continued the man. “We can’t -walk along the sides of all of ’em.” - -The difference of cost between the old method of removal and the new, -that is to say, between carting and flushing, is very extraordinary. - -This cartage work was done chiefly by contract and according to a -Report of the surveyors to the Commissioners (Aug. 31, 1848), the usual -cost for such work (almost always done during the night) was 7_s._ the -cubic yard; that is, 7_s._ for the removal of a cubic yard of sewage -by manual labour and horse and cart. In February, 1849 (the date of -another Report on the subject), the cost of removing a cubic yard by -the operation of flushing, was but 8_d._ This gives the following -result, but in what particular time, instance, or locality, is not -mentioned:-- - - 79,483 cubic yards of deposit removed - by the contract flushing system, at 8_d._ - per cubic yard £2,649 - - Same quantity by the old system of - casting and cartage, 7_s._ per cubic yard 27,819 - ------- - Difference £25,170 - ------- - -“It appears, therefore,” says Mr. Lovick, “that by the adoption of -the contract flushing system, a saving has been effected within the -comparatively short period of its operation over the filthy and clumsy -system formerly practised, of 25,170_l._, showing the cost of this -system to be ten and a half times greater than the cost of flushing by -contract.” - -An official Report states: “When the accumulations of years had to -be removed from the sewers, the rate of cost per lineal mile has -varied from about 40_l._ to 58_l._, or from 6_d._ to 8_d._ per lineal -yard. The works in these cases (excepting those in the City) have not -exceeded nine lineal miles.” - -“On an average of weeks,” says Mr. Lovick, in his Report on flushing -operations, a few months after the introduction of the contract -system, in Sept., 1848, “under present arrangements, about 62 miles -of sewers are passed through each week, and deposit prevented from -accumulating in them by periodic (weekly) flushing. The average cost -per lineal mile per week is about 2_l._ 10_s._ - -“The nature of the agreements with the contractors or gangers are now -for the prevention of accumulations of deposit in a district. For this -purpose the large districts are subdivided, each subdivision being let -to one man. In the Westminster district there are four, in the Holborn -and Finsbury two, in the Surrey and Kent, seven subdivisions. - -“The Tower Hamlets and Poplar districts are each let to one man. - -“In the Tower Hamlets it will be perceived that a reduction of 8_l._ -has been effected for the performance of precisely the same work as -that heretofore performed; the rates of charge standing thus:-- - - “Under the day-work system 23_l._ per week. - „ contract „ 15_l._ „ - -“In those portions specially contracted for, the work has been let by -the lineal measure of the sewer, in preference to the amount of deposit -removed. - -“In the Surrey and Kent districts the open ditches have been cleansed -thrice as often as formerly. - -“A large proportion of the deposit removed is from the open ditches; -in these the accumulations are rapid and continuous, caused chiefly by -their being the receptacles for the ashes and refuse of the houses, the -refuse of manufactories, and the sweepings of the roads. - -“In the covered sewers one of the chief sources of accumulation is the -detritus and mud from the streets, swept into the sewers. - -“The accumulations from these sources will not, I think, be -over-estimated at two-thirds of the whole amount of deposit removed. - -“The contracts in operation, February, 1849, with the districts which -they embrace, are as follows:-- - - -“TABLE NO. I. - - ------------------+--------------+-------------+------------- - | | Average Rate| - |Sewers let for| of Work | Contract - | Prevention of| performed in| Charge - Districts. | Accumulations|Sewers passed| per - | of Deposit. | through each| Week. - | | Week. | - ------------------+--------------+-------------+------------- - | Lineal Feet. | Lineal Feet.| £ _s._ _d._ - Westminster | 485,795 | 150,615 | 40 0 0 - Holborn & Finsbury| 355,085 | 118,000 | 23 0 0 - Tower Hamlets | 223,738 | 30,000 | 15 0 0 - Surrey and Kent | 440,642 | 40,000 | 75 0 0 - Poplar | 26,000 | 2,000 | 6 16 0 - ------------------+--------------+-------------+------------- - | 1,531,260 | 340,615 |159 16 0 - ------------------+--------------+-------------+ - Westminster--Attendance on Flaps, &c. 4 0 0 - -------------- - £163 16 0 - ------------------------------------------------------------- - -“The weekly cost prior to the contract system was in the several -districts as follows:-- - - -“TABLE NO. II. - - -------------------------------+------------- - | £ _s._ _d._ - In the Westminster District | 78 10 0 - „ Holborn and Finsbury do.| 24 17 0 - „ Tower Hamlets do. | 23 0 0 - „ Surrey and Kent do. | 56 8 0 - „ Poplar do. | 6 13 0 - +------------- - |189 8 0 - -------------------------------+------------- - -Hence there would appear to have been a saving of 25_l._ 12_s._ -effected. But by what means was this brought about? It is the old -story, I regret to say--a reduction of the wages of the labouring men. -But this, indeed, is the invariable effect of the contract system. The -wages of the flushermen previous to Sept., 1848, were 24_s._ to 27_s._ -a week; under the present system they are 21_s._ to 22_s._ Here is a -reduction of 4_s._ per week per man, at the least; and as there were -about 150 hands employed at this period, it follows that the gross -weekly saving must have been equal to 30_l._, so that, according to -the above account, there would have been about 5_l._ left for the -contractors or middlemen. It is unworthy of _gentlemen_ to make a -parade of economy obtained by such ignoble means. - -The engineers, however, speak of flushing as what is popularly -understood as but “a make-shift”--as a system imperfect in itself, -but advantageously resorted to because obviating the evils of a worse -system still. - -“With respect to these operations,” says Mr. Lovick, in a Report on -the subject, in February, 1849, “I may be permitted to state that, -although I do not approve of the flushing as an ultimate system, or as -a system to be adopted in the future permanent works of sewerage, or -that its use should be contemplated with regulated sizes of sewers, -regulated supplies of water, and proper falls, it appears to be the -most efficacious and economical for the purpose to which it is adapted -of any yet introduced.” - -A gentleman who was at one time connected professionally with the -management of the public sewerage, said to me,-- - -“Mr. John Roe commenced the general system of flushing sewers in London -in 1847. It is, however, but a clumsy expedient, and quite incompatible -with a perfect system of sewerage. It has, nevertheless, been usefully -applied as an auxiliary to the existing system, though the cost is -frightful.” - - -OF THE WORKING FLUSHERMEN. - -When the system of sewer cleansing first became general, as I have -detailed, the number of flushermen employed, I am assured, on good -authority, was about 500. The sewers were, when this process was first -resorted to, full of deposit, often what might be called “coagulated” -deposit, which could not be affected except by constantly repeated -efforts. There are now only about 100 flushermen, for the more -regularly flushing is repeated, the easier becomes the operation. - -Until about 18 months ago, the flushermen were employed directly by the -Court of Sewers, and were paid (“in Mr. Roe’s time,” one man said, -with a sigh) from 24_s._ to 27_s._ a week; now the work is _all done -by contract_. There are some six or seven contractors, all builders, -who undertake or are responsible for the whole work of flushing in the -metropolitan districts (I do not speak of the City), and they pay the -working flushermen 21_s._ a week, and the gangers 22_s._ This wage is -always paid in money, without drawbacks, and without the intervention -of any other middleman than the contractor middleman. The flushermen -have no perquisites except what they may chance to find in a sewer. -Their time of labour is 6-1/2 hours daily. - -The state of the tide, however, sometimes, as a matter of course, -compels the flushermen to work at every hour of the day and night. At -all times they carry lights, common oil lamps, with cotton wicks; only -the inspectors carry Davy’s safety-lamp. I met no man who could assign -any reason for this distinction, except that “the Davy” gave “such a -bad light.” - -The flushermen wear, when at work, strong blue overcoats, waterproofed -(but not so much as used to be the case, the men then complaining of -the perspiration induced by them), buttoned close over the chest, and -descending almost to the knees, where it is met by huge leather boots, -covering a part of the thigh, such as are worn by the fishermen on -many of our coasts. Their hats are fan-tailed, like the dustmen’s. The -flushermen are well-conducted men generally, and, for the most part, -fine stalwart good-looking specimens of the English labourer; were they -not known or believed to be temperate, they would not be employed. -They have, as a body, no benefit or sick clubs, but a third of them, I -was told, or perhaps nearly a third, were members of general benefit -societies. I found several intelligent men among them. They are engaged -by the contractors, upon whom they call to solicit work. - -“Since Mr. Roe’s time,” and Mr. Roe is evidently the popular man among -the flushermen, or somewhat less than four years ago, the flushermen -have had to provide their own dresses, and even their own shovels to -stir up the deposit. To contractors, the comforts or health of the -labouring men must necessarily be a secondary consideration to the -realization of a profit. New men can always be found; safe investments -cannot. - -The wages of the flushermen therefore have been not only decreased, but -their expenses increased. A pair of flushing-boots, covering a part of -the thigh, similar to those worn by sea-side fishermen, costs 30_s._ as -a low price, and a flusherman wears out three pairs in two years. Boot -stockings cost 2_s._ 6_d._ The jacket worn by the men at their work in -the sewers, in the shape of a pilot-jacket, but fitting less loosely, -is 7_s._ 6_d._; a blue smock, of coarse common cloth (generally), worn -over the dress, costs 2_s._ 6_d._; a shovel is 2_s._ 6_d._ “Ay, sir,” -said one man, who was greatly dissatisfied with this change, “they’ll -make soldiers find their own regimentals next; and, may be, their -own guns, a’cause they can always get rucks of men for soldiers or -labourers. I know there’s plenty would work for less than we get, but -what of that? There always is. There’s hundreds would do the work for -half what the surveyors and inspectors gets; but it’s all right among -the nobs.” - -Nor is the labour of the flushermen at all times so easy or of such -circumscribed hours as I have stated it to be in the regular way of -flushing. When small branch-sewers have to be flushed, the deposit must -first be loosened, or the water, instead of sweeping it away, would -flow over it, and in many of these sewers (most frequent in the Tower -Hamlets) the height is not more than 3 feet. Some of the flushermen are -tall, bulky, strong fellows, and cannot stand upright in less than from -5 feet 8 inches to 6 feet, and in loosening the deposit in low narrow -sewers, “we go to work,” said one of them, “on our bellies, like frogs, -with a rake between our legs. I’ve been blinded by steam in such sewers -near Whitechapel Church from the brewhouses; I couldn’t see for steam; -it was a regular London fog. You must get out again into a main sewer -on your belly; that’s what makes it harder about the togs, they get -worn so.” - -The division of labour among the flushermen appears to be as follows:-- - -The _Inspector_, whose duty it is to go round the several sewers and -see which require to be flushed. - -The _Ganger_, or head of the working gang, who receives his orders from -the inspector, and directs the men accordingly. - -The _Lock-keeper_, or man who goes round to the sewers which are about -to be flushed, and fixes the “penstocks” for retaining the water. - -The _Gang_, which consists of from three to four men, who loosen the -deposit from the bottom of the sewer. Among these there is generally a -“for’ard man,” whose duty it is to remove the penstocks. - -The ganger gets 1_s._ a week over and above the wages of the men. - - -TABLE SHOWING THE DISTRICTS UNDER THE MANAGEMENT OF THE COMMISSIONERS -OF SEWERS; ALSO THE NUMBER AND SALARIES OF THE CLERKS OF THE WORKS, -ASSISTANT CLERKS OF THE WORKS, AND INSPECTORS OF FLUSHING, PAID BY THE -COMMISSIONERS, AND THE NUMBER AND WAGES PAID TO THE FLUSHERMEN BY THE -GENERAL CONTRACTORS. - - --------------------+------------------------------------------------------ - | Paid by the Commissioners of Sewers. - +----------------------+----------+----------+--------- - | | Assist. |Inspectors| Flap & | - |Clerks of | Clerks of | of | Sluice | - DISTRICTS. |Works. | Works[71].|Flushings.| Keepers. | - | | | | |Aggregate - --------------------+---+------+---+-------+---+------+---+------+ Total. - | |Annual| | | |Annual| |Yearly| - | |Salary| |Rate of| |Salary| |Wages | - |No.|of the|No.| Annual|No.|of the|No.|of the| - | |whole.| |Salary.| |whole.| |whole.| - --------------------+---+------+---+-------+---+-----------------+--------- - | | £ | | £ | | £ | | £ | £ - Fulham and | | | | | | | | | - Hammersmith.-- | | | | | | | | | - Counter’s | | | | | | | | | - Creek and | | | | | | | | | - Ranelagh | | | | | | | | | - Districts | 3| 450 | 4| 400 | 1| 120 | ..| .. | 970 - Westminster | | | | | | | | | - Sewers.-- | | | | | | | | | - Western Division, | | | | | | | | | - Eastern Division, | | | | | | | | | - Regent-street | | | | | | | | | - District, | | | | | | | | | - Holborn Division | 4| 600 | 3| 300 | 1| 80 | 6| 390 | 1370 - Finsbury Division.--| | | | | | | | | - Tower Hamlets | | | | | | | | | - Levels, and | | | | | | | | | - Poplar and | | | | | | | | | - Blackwall | | | | | | | | | - Districts | 3| 450 | 2| 200 | 3| 280 | 1| 70 | 1000 - Districts south of | | | | | | | | | - the Thames | 3| 450 | 6| 600 | 4| 320 | 12| 374 | 1744 - --------------------+---+------+---|-------+---+------+---+------+--------- - Total | 13| 1950 | 15| 1500 | 9| 800 | 19| 834 | 5084 - CITY | ..| .. | ..| .. | 1| 80 | 3| 148 | 228 - --------------------+---+------+---+-------+---+------+---+------+--------- - - --------------------+--------------------------------- - | Paid by Contractors. - +-----------+-----------+--------- - | Gangers. | Flushers. | - DISTRICTS. +---+-------+---+-------+ - | | Weekly| | Weekly|Aggregate - |No.|Wage of|No.|Wage of|Total. - | | each. | | each. | - --------------------+---+-------+---+-------+--------- - | | _s._ | | | £ _s._ - Fulham and | | | | | - Hammersmith.-- | | | | | - Counter’s | | | | | - Creek and | | | | | - Ranelagh | | | | | - Districts | 2| 22 | 13| 21 | 824 4 - Westminster | | | | | - Sewers.-- | | | | | - Western Division, | | | | | - Eastern Division, | | | | | - Regent-street | | | | | - District, | | | | | - Holborn Division | 3| 22 | 30| 21 |1809 12 - Finsbury Division.--| | | | | - Tower Hamlets | | | | | - Levels, and | | | | | - Poplar and | | | | | - Blackwall | | | | | - Districts | 3| 22 | 27| 21 |1645 16 - Districts south of | | | | | - the Thames | 2| 22 | 22| 21 |1315 12 - --------------------+---+-------+---|-------+--------- - Total | 10| .. | 92| .. |5595 4 - CITY | 1| 22 | 9| 21 | 548 12 - --------------------+---+-------+---+-------+--------- - - Total cost of flushing the sewers £12,000 per annum. - -⁂ The above division of districts is the one adopted by the -Commissioners of Sewers, but the districts of the Flushermen are more -numerous than those above given, being as follows:-- - - Ganger. Flushermen. - Fulham and Hammersmith employing 1 and 6 } - Counter’s Creek and Ranelagh }1st District of - Districts. „ 1 „ 7 } Commissioners. - - Westminster (Western Division) „ 1 „ 10 } - Ditto (Eastern Division) „ 1 „ 12 }2nd District of - Holborn Division „ 1 „ 8 } Commissioners. - - Finsbury Division „ 1 „ 9 } - Tower Hamlets Levels „ 1 „ 10 }3rd District of - Poplar and Blackwall „ 1 „ 8 } Commissioners. - - Districts south of the Thames „ 2 „ 22 4th District of - Commissioners. - - City „ 1 „ 9 - -Holborn and Finsbury districts are under one contractor, and so are the -two divisions of Westminster. The same men who flush Holborn flush the -Finsbury district also, 17 being the average number employed; but the -Finsbury district requires rather more men than the Holborn; and the -same men who work on the western division of Westminster flush also the -eastern, the number of flushers in the western district being more, on -account of its being the larger division. - -The inspector receives 80_l._ per annum. - -The table on p. 429 shows the number of clerks of the works, inspectors -of flushing, flap and sluice keepers, gangers, and flushermen employed -in the several districts throughout the metropolis, as well as the -salaries and wages of each and the whole. - -None of the flushermen can be said to have been “brought up to the -business,” for boys are never employed in the sewers. Neither had -the labourers been confined in their youth to any branch of trade in -particular, which would appear to be consonant to such employment. -There are now among the flushermen men who have been accustomed to -“all sorts of ground work:” tailors, pot-boys, painters, one jeweller -(some time ago there was also one gentleman), and shoemakers. “You see, -sir,” said one informant, “many of such like mechanics can’t live above -ground, so they tries to get their bread underneath it. There used to -be a great many pensioners flushermen, which weren’t right,” said one -man, “when so many honest working men haven’t a penny, and don’t know -which way to turn theirselves; but pensioners have often good friends -and good interest. I don’t hear any complaints that way now.” - -Among the flushermen are some ten or twelve men who have been engaged -in sewer-work of one kind or another between 20 and 30 years. The -cholera, I heard from several quarters, did not (in 1848) attack any of -the flushermen. The answer to an inquiry on the subject generally was, -“Not one that I know of.” - -“It is a somewhat singular circumstance,” says Mr. Haywood, the City -Surveyor, in his Report, dated February, 1850, “_that none of the -men employed in the City sewers in flushing and cleansing, have been -attacked with, or have died of, cholera during the past year; this -was also the case in 1832-3_. I do not state this to prove that the -atmosphere of the sewers is not unhealthy--I by no means believe an -impure atmosphere is healthy--but I state the naked fact, as it appears -to me a somewhat singular circumstance, and leave it to pathologists to -argue upon.” - -“I don’t think flushing work disagrees with my husband,” said a -flusherman’s wife to me, “for he eats about as much again at that work -as he did at the other.” “The smell underground is sometimes very bad,” -said the man, “but then we generally take a drop of rum first, and -something to eat. It wouldn’t do to go into it on an empty stomach, -’cause it would get into our inside. But in some sewers there’s -scarcely any smell at all. _Most of the men are healthy who are engaged -in it; and when the cholera was about many used to ask us how it was we -escaped._” - - * * * * * - -The following statement contains the history of an individual -flusherman:-- - -“I was brought up to the sea,” he said, “and served on board a -man-of-war, the _Racer_, a 16-gun brig, laying off Cuba, in the West -Indies, and there-away, watching the slavers. I served seven years. -We were paid off in ’43 at Portsmouth, and a friend got me into -the _shores_. It was a great change from the open sea to a close -_shore_--great; and I didn’t like it at all at first. But it suits -a married man, as I am now, with a family, much better than being a -seaman, for a man aboard a ship can hardly do his children justice in -their schooling and such like. Well, I didn’t much admire going down -the man-hole at first--the ‘man-hole’ is a sort of iron trap-door that -you unlock and pull up; it leads to a lot of steps, and so you get into -the _shore_--but one soon gets accustomed to anything. I’ve been at -flushing and _shore_ work now since ’43, all but eleven weeks, which -was before I got engaged. - -“We work in gangs from three to five men.” [Here I had an account of -the process of flushing, such as I have given.] “I’ve been carried -off my feet sometimes in the flush of a _shore_. Why, to-day,” (a -very rainy and windy day, Feb. 4,) “it came down Baker-street, when -we flushed it, 4 foot plomb. It would have done for a mill-dam. One -couldn’t smoke or do anything. Oh, yes, we can have a pipe and a chat -now and then in the _shore_. The tobacco checks the smell. No, I can’t -say I felt the smell very bad when I first was in a _shore_. I’ve -felt it worse since. I’ve been made innocent drunk like in a _shore_ -by a drain from a distiller’s. That happened me first in Vine-street -_shore_, St. Giles’s, from Mr. Rickett’s distillery. It came into -the _shore_ like steam. No, I can’t say it tasted like gin when you -breathed it--only intoxicating like. It was the same in Whitechapel -from Smith’s distillery. One night I was forced to leave off there, -the steam had such an effect. I was falling on my back, when a mate -caught me. The breweries have something of the same effect, but nothing -like so strong as the distilleries. It comes into the _shore_ from the -brewers’ places in steam. I’ve known such a steam followed by bushels -of grains; ay, sir, cart-loads washed into the _shore_. - -“Well, I never found anything in a _shore_ worth picking up but once -a half-crown. That was in the Buckingham Palace sewer. Another time I -found 16_s._ 6_d._, and thought that _was_ a haul; but every bit of it, -every coin, shillings and sixpences and joeys, was bad--all smashers. -Yes, of course it was a disappointment, naturally so. That happened -in Brick-lane _shore_, Whitechapel. O, somebody or other had got -frightened, I suppose, and had shied the coins down into the drains. I -found them just by the chapel there.” - -A second man gave me the following account of his experience in -flushing:-- - -“You remember, sir, that great storm on the 1st August, 1848. I was -in three _shores_ that fell in--Conduit-street and Foubert’s-passage, -Regent-street. There was then a risk of being drowned in the _shores_, -but no lives were lost. All the house-drains were blocked about -Carnaby-market--that’s the Foubert’s-passage _shore_--and the poor -people was what you might call houseless. We got in up to the neck in -water in some places, ’cause we had to stoop, and knocked about the -rubbish as well as we could, to give a way to the water. The police put -up barriers to prevent any carts or carriages going that way along the -streets. No, there was no lives lost in the _shores_. One man was so -overcome that he was falling off into a sort of sleep in Milford-lane -_shore_, but was pulled out. I helped to pull him. He was as heavy as -lead with one thing or other--wet, and all that. Another time, six or -seven year ago, Whitechapel High-street _shore_ was almost choked with -butchers’ offal, and we had a great deal of trouble with it.” - - -OF THE RATS IN THE SEWERS. - -I will now state what I have learned from long-experienced men, as -to the characteristics of the rats in the sewers. To arrive even at -a conjecture as to the numbers of these creatures--now, as it were, -the population of the sewers--I found impossible, for no statistical -observations have been made on the subject; but all my informants -agreed that the number of the animals had been greatly diminished -within these four or five years. - -In the better-constructed sewers there are no rats. In the old sewers -they abound. The sewer rat is the ordinary house or brown rat, -excepting at the outlets near the river, and here the water-rat is seen. - -The sewer-rat is the common brown or Hanoverian rat, said by the -Jacobites to have come in with the first George, and established -itself after the fashion of his royal family; and undoubtedly such -was about the era of their appearance. One man, who had worked twelve -years in the sewers before flushing was general, told me he had never -seen but _two_ black (or old English) rats; another man, of ten years’ -experience, had seen but one; others had noted no difference in the -rats. I may observe that in my inquiries as to the sale of rats (as -a part of the live animals dealt in by a class in the metropolis), I -ascertained that in the older granaries, where there were series of -floors, there were black as well as brown rats. “Great black fellows,” -said one man who managed a Bermondsey granary, “as would frighten a -lady into asterisks to see of a sudden.” - -The rat is the only animal found in the sewers. I met with no -flusherman or other sewer-worker who had ever seen a lizard, toad, -or frog there, although the existence of these creatures, in such -circumstances, has been presumed. A few live cats find their way -into the subterranean channels when a house-drain is being built, -or is opened for repairs, or for any purpose, and have been seen by -the flushermen, &c., wandering about, looking lost, mewing as if in -misery, and avoiding any contact with the sewage. The rats also--for -they are not of the water-rat breed--are exceedingly averse to wetting -their feet, and “take to the sewage,” as it was worded to me, only -in prospect of danger; that is, they then swim across or along the -current to escape with their lives. It is said that when a luckless -cat has ventured into the sewers, she is sometimes literally worried -by the rats. I could not hear of such an attack having been witnessed -by any one; but one intelligent and trustworthy man said, that a few -years back (he believed about eight years) he had in one week found the -skeletons of two cats in a particular part of an old sewer, 21 feet -wide, and in the drains opening into it were perfect colonies of rats, -raging with hunger, he had no doubt, because a system of trapping, -newly resorted to, had prevented their usual ingress into the houses -up the drains. A portion of their fur adhered to the two cats, but the -flesh had been eaten from their bones. About that time a troop of rats -flew at the feet of another of my informants, and would no doubt have -maimed him seriously, “but my boots,” said he, “stopped the devils.” -“The sewers generally swarms with rats,” said another man. “I runs away -from ’em; I don’t like ’em. They in general gets away from us; but in -case we comes to a stunt end where there’s a wall and no place for ’em -to get away, and we goes to touch ’em, they fly at us. They’re some of -’em as big as good-sized kittens. One of our men caught hold of one the -other day by the tail, and he found it trying to release itself, and -the tail slipping through his fingers; so he put up his left hand to -stop it, and the rat caught hold of his finger, and the man’s got an -arm now as big as his thigh.” I heard from several that there had been -occasionally battles among the rats, one with another. - -“Why, sir,” said one flusherman, “as to the number of rats, it ain’t -possible to say. There hasn’t been a census (laughing) taken of -them. But I can tell you this--I was one of the first flushermen -when flushing came in general--I think it was before Christmas, -1847, under Mr. Roe--and there was cart-loads and cart-loads of -drowned rats carried into the Thames. It was in a West Strand _shore_ -that I saw the most. I don’t exactly remember which, but I think -Northumberland-street. By a block or a hitch of some sort, there was, -I should say, just a bushel of drowned rats stopped at the corner of -one of the gates, which I swept into the next stream. I see far fewer -drowned rats now than before the _shores_ was flushed. They’re not so -plenty, that’s one thing. Perhaps, too, they may have got to understand -about flushing, they’re that ’cute, and manage to keep out of the way. -About Newgate-market was at one time the worst for rats. Men couldn’t -venture into the sewers then, on account of the varmint. It’s bad -enough still, I hear, but I haven’t worked in the City for a few years.” - -The rats, from the best information at my command, do not derive -much of their sustenance from the matter in the sewers, or only in -particular localities. These localities are the sewers neighbouring -a connected series of slaughter-houses, as in Newgate-market, -Whitechapel, Clare-market, parts adjoining Smithfield-market, &c. -There, animal offal being (and having been to a much greater extent -five or six years ago) swept into the drains and sewers, the rats -find their food. In the sewers, generally, there is little food for -them, and none at all in the best-constructed sewers, where there is a -regular and sometimes rapid flow, and little or no deposit. - -The sewers are these animals’ breeding grounds. In them the broods -are usually safe from the molestation of men, dogs, or cats. These -“breeding grounds” are sometimes in the holes (excavated by the -industry of the rats into caves) which have been formed in the old -sewers by a crumbled brick having fallen out. Their nests, however, -are in some parts even more frequent in places where old rotting large -house-drains or smaller sewers, empty themselves into a first-class -sewer. Here, then, the rats breed, and, in spite of precautions, find -their way up the drains or pipes, even through the openings into -water-closets, into the houses for their food, and almost always at -night. Of this fact, builders, and those best informed, are confident, -and it is proved indirectly by what I have stated as to the deficiency -of food for a voracious creature in all the sewers except a few. -One man, long in the service of the Commissioners of Sewers, and in -different capacities, gave me the following account of what may be -called a rat settlement. The statement I found confirmed by other -working men, and by superior officers under the same employment. - -“Why, sir, in the Milford-lane sewer, a goodish bit before you get to -the river, or to the Strand--I can’t say how far, a few hundred yards -perhaps--I’ve seen, and reported, what was a regular chamber of rats. -If a brick didn’t fall out from being rotted, the rats would get it -out, and send it among other rubbish into the sewer, for this place was -just the corner of a big drain. I couldn’t get into the rat-hole, of -course not, but I’ve brought my lamp to the opening, and--as well as -others--have seen it plain. It was an open place like a lot of tunnels, -one over another. Like a lot of rabbit burrows in the country--as I’ve -known to be--or like the partitions in the pigeon-houses: one here and -another there. The rat-holes, as far as I could tell, were worked one -after another. I should say, in moderation, that it was the size of a -small room; well, say about 6 yards by 4. I can’t say about the height -from the lowest tunnel to the highest. I don’t see that any one could. -Bless you, sir, I’ve sometimes heerd the rats fighting and squeaking -there, like a parcel of drunken Irishmen--I have indeed. Some of them -were rare big fellows. If you threw the light of your lamp on them -sudden, they’d be off like a shot. Well, I should say, there was 100 -pair of rats there--there might be more, besides all their young-uns. -If a poor cat strayed into that sewer, she dursn’t tackle the rats, not -she. There’s lots of such places, sir, here, and there, and everywhere.” - -“I believe rats,” says a late enthusiastic writer on the subject, under -the cognomen of Uncle James, “to be one of the most fertile causes -of national and universal distress, and their attendants, misery and -starvation.” - -From the author’s inquiries among practical men, and from his own study -of the natural history of the rat, he shows that these animals will -have six, seven, or eight nests of young in the year, for three or four -years together; that they have from twelve to twenty-three at a litter, -and breed at three months old; and that there are more female than male -rats, by ten to six. - -The author seems somewhat of an enthusiast about rats, and as -the sewerage is often the head-quarters of these animals--their -“breeding-ground” indeed--I extract the following curious matter. He -says:-- - -“Now, I propose to lay down my calculations at something less than -one-half. In the first place, I say four litters in the year, beginning -and ending with a litter, so making thirteen litters in three years; -secondly to have eight young ones at a birth, half male and half -female; thirdly, the young ones to have a litter at six months old. - -“At this calculation, I will take one pair of rats; and at the -expiration of three years what do you suppose will be the amount of -living rats? Why no less a number than 646,808. - -“Mr. Shaw’s little dog ‘Tiny,’ under six pounds weight, has destroyed -2525 pairs of rats, which, had they been permitted to live, would, at -the same calculation and in the same time, have produced 1,633,190,200 -living rats! - -“And the rats destroyed by Messrs. Shaw and Sabin in one year, -amounting to 17,000 pairs, would, had they been permitted to live, have -produced, at the above calculation and in the same time, no less a -number than 10,995,736,000 living rats! - -“Now, let us calculate the amount of human food that these rats would -destroy. In the first place, my informants tell me that six rats will -consume day by day as much food as a man; secondly, that the thing has -been tested, and that the estimate given was, that eight rats would -consume more than an ordinary man. - -“Now, I--to place the thing beyond the smallest shadow of a doubt--will -set down ten rats to eat as much as a man, not a child; nor will I -say anything about what rats waste. And what shall we find to be the -alarming result? Why, that the first pair of rats, with their three -years’ progeny, would consume in the night more food than 64,680 men -the year round, and leaving eight rats to spare!” - -The author then puts forth the following curious statement:-- - -“And now for the vermin destroyed by Messrs. Shaw and Sabin--34,000 -yearly! Taken at the same calculation, with their three years’ -progeny--can you believe it?--they would consume more food than the -whole population of the earth? Yes, if Omnipotence would raise up -29,573,600 more people, these rats would consume as much food as them -all! You may wonder, but I will prove it to you:--The population of -the earth, including men, women, and children, is estimated to be -970,000,000 souls; and the 17,000 rats in three years would produce -10,995,736,000: consequently, at ten rats per man, there would be -sufficient rats to eat as much food as all the people on the earth, -and leaving 1,295,736,000. So that if the human family were increased -to 1,099,573,600, instead of 970,000,000, there would be rats enough -to eat the food of them all! Now, sirs, is not this a most appalling -thing, to think that there are at the present time in the British -Empire thousands--nay, millions--of human beings in a state of utter -starvation, while rats are consuming that which would place them and -their families in a state of affluence and comfort? I ask this simple -question: Has not Parliament, ere now, been summoned upon matters of -far less importance to the empire? I think it has.” - -The author then advocates the repeal of the “rat-tax,” that is, the -tax on what he calls the “true friend of man and remorseless destroyer -of rats,” the well-bred terrier dog. “Take the tax off rat-killing -dogs” he says, “and give a legality to rat-killing, and let there be in -each parish a man who will pay a reward per head for dead rats, which -are valuable for manure (as was done in the case of wolves in the old -days), and then rats would be extinguished for ever!” Uncle James seems -to be a perfect Malthus among rats. The over-population and over-rat -theories are about equal in reason. - -[Illustration: THE RAT-CATCHERS OF THE SEWERS. - -[_From a Daguerreotype by_ BEARD.]] - - -OF THE CESSPOOLAGE AND NIGHTMEN OF THE METROPOLIS. - -I have already shown--it may be necessary to remind the reader--that -there are two modes of removing the wet refuse of the metropolis: the -one by carrying it off by means of sewers, or, as it is designated, -_sewerage_; and the other by depositing it in some neighbouring -cesspool, or what is termed _cesspoolage_. - -The object of sewerage is “to transport the wet refuse of a town to a -river, or some powerfully current stream, by a series of ducts.” By the -system of cesspoolage, the wet refuse of the household is collected -in an adjacent tank, and when the reservoir is full, the contents are -removed to some other part. - -[Illustration: LONDON NIGHTMEN. - -[_From a Daguerreotype by_ BEARD.]] - -The gross quantity of wet refuse annually produced in the metropolis, -and which consequently has to be removed by one or other of the above -means, is, as we have seen,--liquid, 24,000,000,000 gallons; solid, -100,000 tons; or altogether, by admeasurement, 3,820,000,000 cubic feet. - -The quantity of this wet refuse which finds its way into the sewers -by street and house-drainage is, according to the experiments of the -Commissioners of Sewers (as detailed at p. 388), 10,000,000 cubic feet -per day, or 3,650,000,000 cubic feet per annum, so that there remain -about 170,000,000 cubic feet to be accounted for. But, as we have -before seen, the extent of surface from which the amount of so-called -_Metropolitan_ sewage was _removed_ was only 58 square miles, whereas -that from which the calculation was made concerning the gross quantity -of wet refuse _produced_ throughout the metropolis was 115 square -miles, or double the size. The 58 miles measured by the Commissioners, -however, was by far the denser moiety of the town, and that in which -the houses and streets were as 15 to 1; so that, allowing the remaining -58 miles of the suburban districts to have produced 20 times less -sewage than the urban half of the metropolis, the extra yield would -have been about 180,500,000 cubic feet. But the greater proportion, -if not the whole, of the latter quantity of wet house-refuse would be -drained into open ditches, where a considerable amount of evaporation -and absorption is continually going on, so that a large allowance must -be made for loss by these means. Perhaps, if we estimate the quantity -of sewage thus absorbed and evaporated at between 10 and 20 per cent of -the whole, we shall not be wide of the truth, so that we shall have to -reduce the 182,000,000 cubic feet of suburban sewage to somewhere about -150,000,000 cubic feet. - -This gives us the quantity of wet refuse carried off by the sewers -(covered and open) of the metropolis, and deducted from the gross -quantity of wet house-refuse, annually _produced_ (3,820,000,000 cubic -feet), leaves 20,000,000 cubic feet for the gross quantity carried -off by other means than the sewers; that is to say, the 20,000,000 -cubic feet, if the calculation be right, should be about the quantity -deposited every year in the London cesspools. Let us see whether this -approximates to anything like the real quantity. - -To ascertain the absolute quantity of wet refuse annually conveyed into -the metropolitan cesspools, we must first ascertain the number and -capacity of the cesspools themselves. - -Of the city of London, where the sewer-cesspool details are given with -a minuteness highly commendable, as affording statistical data of great -value, Mr. Heywood gives us the following returns:-- - - -“HOUSE-DRAINAGE OF THE CITY. - - “The total number of premises - drained during the year was 310 - - “The approximate number of - premises drained at the expiration - of the year 1850 was 10,923 - - “The total number of premises - which may now therefore be said - to be drained is 11,233 - - “And undrained 5,067 - -“I am induced,” adds Mr. Heywood, “to believe, from the reports of -the district inspectors, that a very far larger number of houses are -already drained than are herein given. Indeed my impression is, that as -many as 3000 might be deducted from the 5067 houses as to the drainage -of which you have no information. - -“Now, until the inspectors have completed their survey of the whole -of the houses within the city,” continues the City surveyor, “precise -information cannot be given as to the number of houses yet undrained; -such information appears to me very important to obtain speedily, and -I beg to recommend that instructions be given to the inspectors to -proceed with their survey as rapidly as possible.” - -Hence it appears, that out of the 16,299 houses comprised within the -boundaries of the City, rather less than one-third are _reported_ to -have cesspools. Concerning the number of cesspools without the City, -the Board of Health, in a Report on the cholera in 1849, put forward -one of its usual _extraordinary_ statements. - -“At the last census in 1841,” runs the Report, “there were 270,859 -houses in the metropolis. _It is_ KNOWN _that there is scarcely a house -without a cesspool under it, and that a large number have two, three, -four, and_ MORE _under them_; so that the number of such receptacles -in the metropolis may be taken at 300,000. The exposed surface of each -cesspool measures on an average 9 feet, and the mean depth of the -whole is about 6-1/2 feet; so that each contains 58-1/2 cubic feet of -fermenting filth of the most poisonous, noisome, and disgusting nature. -The exhaling surface of all the cesspools (300,000 × 9) = 2,700,000 -feet, or equal to 62 acres nearly; and the total quantity of foul -matter contained within them (300,000 × 58-1/2) = 17,550,000 cubic -feet; or equal to one enormous elongated stagnant cesspool 50 feet in -width, 6 feet 6 inches in depth, and extending through London from the -Broadway at Hammersmith to Bow-bridge, a length of 10 miles. - -“This,” say the Metropolitan Sanitary Commissioners, a body of -functionaries so intimately connected with the Board, that the one is -ever ready to swear to what the other asserts, “there is reason to -believe is an _under estimate!_” - -Let us now compare this statement, which declares it to be _known_ that -there is scarcely a house in London without a cesspool, and that many -have two, three, four, and even more under them--let us compare this, -I say, with the facts which were elicited by the same functionaries -by means of a house-to-house inquiry in three different parishes--a -poor, a middle-class, and a rich one--the average rental of each being -22_l._, 119_l._, and 128_l._ - - -RESULTS OF A HOUSE-TO-HOUSE INQUIRY IN THE PARISHES OF ST. GEORGE THE -MARTYR, SOUTHWARK, ST. ANNE’S, SOHO, AND ST. JAMES’S, AS TO THE STATE -OF THE WORKS OF WATER SUPPLY AND DRAINAGE. - - ----------------------------------------------+--------------------------- - | PARISHES. - +----------+-------+-------- - CONDITION OF THE HOUSES. | St George| | - | the | St. | St. - | Martyr, |Anne’s,|James’s. - |Southwark.| Soho. | - ----------------------------------------------+----------+-------+-------- - From which replies have been | | | - received (Number) | 5,713 | 1,339 | 2,960 - | | | - _With supply of Water_-- | | | - To the house or premises (Per cent)| 80·97 | 95·56 | 96·48 - Near the privy „ | 48·87 | 38·99 | 43·42 - Butts or cisterns, covered (Number) | 1,879 | 776 | 1,621 - „ „ uncovered „ | 2,074 | 294 | 393 - With a sink (Per cent)| 48·31 | 89·29 | 86·70 - | | | - _With a Well_-- | | | - On or near premises „ | 5·32 | 13·97 | 13·85 - Well tainted or foul „ | 46·92 | 3·71 | 7·36 - Houses damp in lower parts „ | 52·13 | 30·90 | 26·67 - Houses with stagnant water on | | | - premises „ | 18·54 | 7·95 | 2·95 - Houses flooded in times of storm „ | 18·15 | 5·04 | 4·05 - | | | - _Houses with Drain_-- | | | - To premises „ | 87·56 | 97·12 | 96·42 - Houses with drains emitting | | | - offensive smells „ | 45·11 | 37·62 | 21·41 - Houses with drains stopped at times „ | 22·37 | 28·50 | 13·97 - Houses with dust-bin „ | 42·69 | 92·34 | 89·80 - Houses receiving offensive smells from | | | - adjoining premises „ | 27·82 | 22·54 | 16·74 - Houses with privy „ | 97·03 | 70·63 | 62·53 - _Houses with cesspool_ „ | 82·12 | 47·27 | 36·62 - Houses with water-closet „ | 10·06 | 45·99 | 65·86 - ----------------------------------------------+----------+-------+-------- - -In this minute and searching investigation there is not only an -official guide to an estimation of the number of cesspools in London, -but a curious indication of the character of the houses in the -respective parishes. In the poorer parish of St. George the Martyr, -Southwark, the cesspools were to every 100 houses as 82·12; in the -aristocratic parish of St. James, Westminster, as only 36·62; while in -what may be represented, perhaps, as the middle-class parish of St. -Anne, Soho, the cesspools were 47·27 per cent. The number of wells on -or near the premises, and the proportion of those tainted; the ratio of -the dampness of the lower parts of the houses, of the stagnant water on -the premises, and of the flooding of the houses on occasions of storms, -are all significant indications of the difference in the circumstances -of the inhabitants of these parishes--of the difference between the -abodes of the rich and the poor, the capitalists and the labouring -classes. But more significant still, perhaps, of the domestic wants or -comforts of these dwellings, is the proportion of water-closets to the -houses in the poor parish and the rich; in the one they were but 10·06 -per cent; in the other 65·86 per cent. - -These returns are sufficient to show the extravagance of the Board’s -previous statement, that there is “scarcely a house in London without -a cesspool under it,” while “a large number have two, three, four, and -more,” for we find that even in the poorer parishes there are only 82 -cesspools to 100 houses. Moreover, the engineers, after an official -examination and inquiry, reported that in the “fever-nest, known as -Jacob’s-island, Bermondsey,” there were 1317 dwelling-houses and 648 -cesspools, or not quite 50 cesspools to 100 houses. - -In rich, middle-class, and poor parishes, the proportion of cesspools, -then, it appears from the _inquiries_ of the Board of Health (their -_guesses_ are of no earthly value), gives us an average of something -between 50 or 60 cesspools to every 100 houses. A subordinate officer -whom I saw, and who was engaged in the cleansing and the filling-up -of cesspools when condemned, or when the houses are to be drained -anew into the sewers and the cesspools abolished, thought from his -own experience, the number of cesspools to be less than one-half, but -others thought it more. - -On the other hand, a nightman told me he was confident that every two -houses in three throughout London had cesspools; in the City, however, -we perceive that there is, at the utmost, only one house in every three -undrained. It will, therefore, be safest to adopt a middle course, and -assume 50 per cent of the houses of the metropolis to be still without -drainage into the sewers. - -Now the number of houses being 300,000, it follows that the number -of cesspools within the area of the metropolis are about 150,000; -consequently the next step in the investigation is to ascertain the -average capacity of each, and so arrive at the gross quantity of wet -house-refuse annually deposited in cesspools throughout London. - -The average size of the cesspools throughout the metropolis is said, by -the Board of Health, to be 9 feet by 6-1/2, which gives a capacity of -58-1/2 cubic feet, and this for 150,000 houses = 8,775,000 cubic feet. -But according to all accounts these cesspools require on an average -two years to fill, so that the gross quantity of wet refuse annually -deposited in such places can be taken at only half the above quantity, -viz. in round numbers, 4,500,000 cubic feet. This by weight, at the -rate of 35·9 cubic feet to the ton, gives 125,345 tons. This, however, -would appear to be of a piece with the generality of the statistics of -the Board of Health, and as wide of the truth as was the statement that -there was scarcely a house in London without a cesspool, while many -had _three, four, and even more_. But I am credibly informed that the -average size of a cesspool is rather more than 5 feet square and 6-1/2 -deep, so that the ordinary capacity would be 5-3/4 × 5-1/4 × 6-1/2 -= 197 cubic feet, and this multiplied by 150,000 gives an aggregate -capacity of 29,550,000 cubit feet. But as the cesspools, according -to all accounts, become full only once in two years, it follows that -the gross quantity of cesspoolage annually deposited throughout the -metropolis must be only one-half that quantity, or about 14,775,000 -cubic feet. - -The calculation may be made another way, viz. by the experience of the -nightmen and the sewer-cesspoolmen as to the average quantity of refuse -removed from the London cesspools whenever emptied, as well as the -average number emptied yearly. - -The contents of a cesspool are never estimated for any purpose of sale -or labour by the weight, but always, as regards the nightmen’s work, by -the load. Each night-cart load of soil is considered, on an average, a -ton in weight, so that the nightmen readily estimate the number of tons -by the number of cart-loads obtained. The men employed in the cleansing -of the cesspools by the new system of pumping agree with the nightmen -as to the average contents of a cesspool. - -As a general rule, a cesspool is filled every two years, and holds, -when full, about five tons. One man, who had been upwards of 30 years -in the nightman’s business, who had worked at it more or less all -that time himself, and who is now foreman to a parish contractor and -master-nightman in a large way, spoke positively on the subject. The -cesspools, he declared, were emptied, as an average, by nightmen, once -in two years, and their average contents were five loads of night-soil, -it having been always understood in the trade that a night-cartload -was about a ton.[72] The total of the cesspool matter is not affected -by the frequency or paucity of the cleansing away of the filth, for if -one cesspool be emptied yearly, another is emptied every second, third, -fourth, or fifth year, and, according to the size, the fair average -is five tons of cesspoolage emptied from each every other year. One -master-nightman had emptied as much as fourteen tons of night-soil -from a cesspool or soil-tank, and a contractor’s man had once emptied -as many as eighteen tons, but both agreed as to the average of -five tons every two years from all. Neither knew the period of the -accumulation of the fourteen or the eighteen tons, but supposed to be -about five or six years. - -According to this mode of estimate, the quantity of wet house-refuse -deposited in cesspools would be equal to 150,000 × 5, or 750,000 tons -every two years. This, by admeasurement, at the rate of 35·9 cubic -feet to the ton, gives 26,925,000 cubic feet; and as this is the -accumulation of two years, it follows that 13,462,500 cubic feet is the -quantity of cesspoolage deposited yearly. - -There is still another mode of checking this estimate. - -I have already given (see p. 385, _ante_) the average production of -each individual to the wet refuse of the metropolis. According to the -experiments of Boussingault, confirmed by Liebig, this, as I have -stated, amounted to 1/4 lb. of solid and 1-1/4 lb. of liquid excrement -from each individual per diem (= 150 lbs. for every 100 persons), -while, including the wet refuse from culinary operations, the average -yield, according to the surveyor of the Commissioners of Sewers, was -equal to about 250 lbs. for every 100 individuals daily. I may add that -this calculation was made officially, with engineering minuteness, with -a view to ascertain what quantity of water, and what inclination in -its flow, would be required for the effective working of a system of -drainage to supersede the cesspools.[73] Now the census of 1841 shows -us that the average number of inhabitants to each house throughout the -metropolis was 7·6, and this for 150,000 houses would give 1,140,000 -people; consequently the gross quantity of wet refuse proceeding from -this number of persons, at the rate of 250 lbs. to every 100 people -daily, would be 464,400 tons per annum; or, by admeasurement, at the -rate of 35·9 cubic feet to the ton, it would be equal to 16,670,950 -cubic feet. - -A small proportion of this amount of cesspoolage ultimately makes its -appearance in the sewers, being pumped into them directly from the -cesspools when full by means of a special apparatus, and thus tends not -only to swell the bulk of sewage, but to decrease in a like proportion -the aggregate quantity of wet house-refuse, which is removed by -cartage; but though the proportion of cesspoolage which finally appears -as sewage is daily increasing, still it is but trifling compared with -the quantity removed by cartage. - -Here, then, we have three different estimates as to the gross quantity -of the London cesspoolage, each slightly varying from the other two. - - The first, drawn from the Cubic Feet. - average capacity of the London - cesspools, makes the gross - annual amount of cesspoolage 14,775,000 - - The second, deduced from - the average quantity removed - from each cesspool 13,462,500 - - And the third, calculated - from the individual production - of wet refuse 16,670,950 - -The mean of these three results is, in round numbers, 15,000,000 cubic -feet, so that the statement would stand thus:-- - - The quantity of wet house-refuse - annually carried off by - sewers (chiefly covered) from - the urban moiety of the metropolis - is (in cubic feet) 3,650,000,000 - - The quantity annually carried - off by sewers (principally - open) from the suburban moiety - of the metropolis 150,000,000 - ------------- - The total amount of wet - house-refuse annually carried - off by the sewers of the metropolis - 3,800,000,000 - - The gross amount of wet - house-refuse annually deposited - in cesspools throughout - the metropolis 15,000,000 - ------------- - The total amount of sewage - and cesspoolage of the metropolis - 3,815,000,000 - -Thus we perceive that the total quantity of wet house-refuse annually -_removed_, corresponds so closely with the gross quantity of wet -house-refuse annually _produced_, that we may briefly conclude the -gross sewage of London to be equal to 3,800,000,000 cubic feet, and the -gross cesspoolage to be equal to 15,000,000 cubic feet. - -The accuracy of the above conclusion may be tested by another process; -for, unless the Board of Health’s conjectural mode of getting at -_facts_ be adopted, it is absolutely necessary that statistics not only -upon this, but indeed any subject, be checked by all the different -modes there may be of arriving at the same conclusion. False facts are -worse than no facts at all. - -The number of nightmen may be summed up as follows:-- - - Masters 521 - Labourers 200,000 - -The number of cesspools emptied during the past year by these men may -be estimated at 50,692; and the quantity of soil removed, 253,460 -loads, or tons, and this at the rate of 35·9 cubic ft. to the ton gives -a total of 6,099,214 cubic ft. - -It might, perhaps, be expected, that from the quantity of fæcal refuse -proceeding from the inhabitants of the metropolis, a greater quantity -would be found in the existent cesspools; but there are many reasons -for the contrary. - -One prime cause of the dispersion of cesspoolage is, that a -considerable quantity of the night-soil does not find its way into the -cesspools at all, but is, when the inhabitants have no privies to their -dwellings, thrown into streets, and courts, and waste places. - -I cannot show this better than by a few extracts from Dr. Hector -Gavin’s work, published in 1848, entitled, “Sanitary Ramblings; being -Sketches and Illustrations of Bethnal Green, &c.” - -“_Digby-walk, Globe-road._--Part of this place is private property, -and the landlord of the new houses has built a cesspool, into which to -drain his houses, but he will not permit the other houses to drain into -this cesspool, unless the parish pay to him 1_l._, a sum which it will -not pay.” Of course the inhabitants throw their garbage and filth into -the street or the by-places. - -“_Whisker’s-gardens._--This is a very extensive piece of ground, -which is laid out in neat plots, as gardens. The choicest flowers are -frequently raised here, and great taste and considerable refinement -are evidently possessed by those who cultivate them. Now, among the -cultivators are the poor, even the very poor, of Bethnal-green.... -Attached to all these little plots of ground are summer-houses. In the -generality of cases they are mere wooden sheds, cabins, or huts. It -is very greatly to be regretted that the proprietors of these gardens -should permit the slight and fragile sheds in them to be converted into -abodes for human beings.... Sometimes they are divided into rooms; they -are planted on the damp undrained ground. The privies are sheds erected -over holes in the ground; the _soil itself_ is removed from these holes -and is _dug into the ground_ to promote its fertility. - -“_Three Colt-lane._--A deep ditch has been dug on either side of the -Eastern Counties Railway by the Company. These ditches were dug by the -Company to prevent the foundations of the arches being endangered, -and are in no way to be considered as having been dug to promote the -health of the neighbourhood. The double privies attached to the new -houses (22 in number) are immediately contiguous to this ditch, and -are constructed so that the night-soil shall drain into it. For this -purpose the cesspools are small, and the bottoms are above the level of -the ditch.” - -It would be easy to multiply such proofs of night-soil not finding its -way into the cesspools, but the subject need not be further pursued, -important as in many respects it may be. I need but say, that in the -several reports of the Board of Health are similar accounts of other -localities. The same deficiency of cesspoolage is found in Paris, and -from the same cause. - -What may be the quantity of night-soil which becomes part of the -contents of the street scavenger’s instead of the nightman’s cart, -no steps have been taken, or perhaps can be taken, by the public -sanitary bodies to ascertain. Many of the worst of the nuisances -(such as that in Digby-street) have been abolished, but they are still -too characteristic of the very poor districts. The fault, however, -appears to be with the owners of property, and it is seldom _they_ are -coerced into doing their duty. The doubt of its “paying” a capitalist -landlord to improve the unwholesome dwellings of the poor seems to be -regarded as a far more sacred right, than the right of the people to be -delivered from the foul air and vile stenches to which their poverty -may condemn them. - -There is, moreover, the great but unascertained waste from cesspool -evaporation, and it must be recollected that of the 2-1/2 lbs. of -cesspool refuse, calculated as the daily produce of each individual, -2-1/4 lbs. are liquid. - -The gross cesspoolage of Paris should amount to upwards of 600,000 -cubic mètres, or more than 21,000,000 cubic feet, at the estimate of -three pints daily per head. The quantity actually collected, however, -amounts to only 230,000 cubic mètres, or rather more than 8,000,000 -cubic feet, which is 13,000,000 cubic feet less than the amount -produced. - -In London, the cesspoolage of 150,000 _undrained_ houses should, at -the rate of 2-1/2 lbs. to each individual and 15 inhabitants to every -two houses, amount to 16,500,000 cubic feet, or about 460,000 loads, -whereas the quantity collected amounts to but little more than 250,000 -loads, or about 9,000,000 cubic feet. Hence, the deficiency is 210,000 -loads, or 7,500,000 cubic feet, which is nearly half of the entire -quantity. - -In Paris, then, it would appear that only 38 per cent of the refuse -which is not removed by sewers is collected in the cesspools, whereas -in London about 54-1/2 per cent is so collected. The remainder in both -cases is part deposited in by-places and removed by the scavenger’s -cart, part lost in evaporation, whereas a large proportion of the -deficiency arises from a less quantity of water than the amount stated -being used by the very poor. - -We have now to see the means by which this 15,000,000 cubic feet of -cesspoolage is annually removed, as well as to ascertain the condition -and incomes of the labourers engaged in the removal of it. - - -OF THE CESSPOOL SYSTEM OF LONDON. - -A cesspool, or some equivalent contrivance, has long existed in -connexion with the structure of the better class of houses in the -metropolis, and there seems every reason to believe--though I am -assured, on good authority, that there is no public or official record -of the matter known to exist--that their use became more and more -general, as in the case of the sewers, after the rebuilding of the -City, consequent upon the great fire of 1666. - -The older cesspools were of two kinds--“soil-tanks” and “bog-holes.” - -“Soil-tanks” were the filth receptacles of the larger houses, and -sometimes works of solid masonry; they were almost every size and -depth, but always perhaps much deeper than the modern cesspools, which -present an average depth of 6 feet to 6-1/2 feet. - -The “bog-hole” was, and is, a cavity dug into the earth, having less -masonry than the soil-tank, and sometimes no masonry at all, being in -like manner the receptacle for the wet refuse from the house. - -The difference between these old contrivances and the present mode -is principally in the following respect: the soil-tank or bog-hole -formed a receptacle immediately under the privy (the floor of which has -usually to be removed for purposes of cleansing), whereas the refuse -is now more frequently carried into the modern cesspool by a system of -drainage. Sometimes the soil-tank was, when the nature of the situation -of the premises permitted, in some outer place, such as an obscure -part of the garden or court-yard; and perhaps two or more bog-holes -were drained into it, while often enough, by means of a grate or a -trap-door, any kind of refuse to be got rid of was thrown into it. - -I am informed that the average contents of a bog-hole (such as now -exist) are a cubic yard of matter; some are round, some oblong, for -there is, or was, great variation. - -Of the few remaining soil-tanks the varying sizes prevent any average -being computable. - -What the old system of cesspoolage _was_ may be judged from the fact, -that until somewhere about 1830 no cesspool matter could, without an -indictable offence being committed, be drained into a sewer! _Now_, -no new house can be erected, but it is an indictable offence if the -cesspool (or rather water-closet) matter be drained anywhere else -than into the sewer! The law, at the period specified, required most -strangely, so that “the drains and sewers might not be choked,” that -cesspools should “be not only periodically emptied, but _made_ by -nightmen.” - -The principal means of effecting the change from cesspoolage to -sewerage was the introduction of Bramah’s water-closets, patented in -1808, but not brought into general use for some twenty years or more -after that date. The houses of the rich, owing to the refuse being -drained away from the premises, improved both in wholesomeness and -agreeableness, and so the law was relaxed. - -There are two kinds of cesspools, viz. _public_ and _private_. - -The _public cesspools_ are those situated in courts, alleys, and -places, which, though often packed thickly with inhabitants, are not -horse-thoroughfares, or thoroughfares at all; and in such places one, -two, or more cesspools receive the refuse from all the houses. I do not -know that any official account of public cesspools has been published -as to their number, character, &c., but their number is insignificant -when compared with those connected with private houses. The public -cesspools are cleansed, and, where possible, filled up by order of the -Commissioners of Sewers, the cost being then defrayed out of the rate. - -The _private cesspools_ are cleansed at the expense of the occupiers of -the houses. - - -OF THE CESSPOOL AND SEWER SYSTEM OF PARIS. - -As the Court of Sewers have recently adopted some of the French -regulations concerning cesspoolage, I will now give an account of the -cesspool system of France. - -When after the ravages of the epidemic cholera of 1848-9, sanitary -commissioners under the authority of the legislature pursued their -inquiries, it was deemed essential to report upon the cesspool system -of Paris, as that capital had also been ravaged by the epidemic. The -task was entrusted to Mr. T. W. Rammell, C.E. - -Even in what the French delight to designate--and in some respects -justly--the most refined city in the world, a filthy and indolent -custom, once common, as I have shown, in England, still prevails. -In Paris, the kitchen and _dry_ house-refuse (and formerly it was -the fæcal refuse also) is deposited in the dark of the night in the -streets, and removed, as soon as the morning light permits, by the -public scavengers. But the refuse is not removed unexamined before -being thrown into the cart of the proper functionary. There is in Paris -a large and peculiar class, the chiffonniers (literally, in Anglo-Saxon -rendering, the _raggers_, or rag-finders). These men nightly traverse -the streets, each provided with a lantern, and generally with a basket -strapped to the back; the poorer sort, however--for poverty, like rank, -has its gradations--make a bag answer the purpose; they have also a -pole with an iron hook to its end; and a small shovel. The dirt-heaps -or mounds of dry house-refuse are carefully turned over by these men; -for their morrow’s bread, as in the case of our own street-finders, -depends upon _something_ saleable being acquired. Their prizes are -bones (which sometimes they are seen to gnaw); bits of bread; wasted -potatoes; broken pots, bottles, and glass; old pans and odd pieces of -old metal; cigar-ends; waste-paper, and rags. Although these people are -known as rag-pickers, rags are, perhaps, the very thing of which they -pick the least, because the Parisians are least apt to throw them away. -In some of the criminal trials in the French capital, the chiffonniers -have given evidence (but not much of late) of what they have found -in a certain locality, and supplied a link, sometimes an important -one, to the evidence against a criminal. With these refuse heaps is -still sometimes mixed matter which should have found its way into the -cesspools, although this is an offence punishable, and occasionally -punished. - -Before the habits of the Parisians are too freely condemned, let it be -borne in mind that the houses of the French capital are much larger -than in London, and that each floor is often the dwelling-place of a -family. Such is generally the case in London in the poorer districts, -but in Paris it pervades almost all districts. There, some of the -houses contain 70, not fugitive but permanent, inmates. The average -number of inhabitants to each house, according to the last census, -was upwards of _twenty-four_ (in London the average is 7·6), the -extremes being eleven to each house in St. Giles’s and between five -and six in the immediate suburbs (see p. 165, _ante_). Persons who are -circumstanced then, as are the Parisians, can hardly have at their -command the proper means and appliances for a sufficient cleanliness, -and for the promotion of what we consider--but the two words are -unknown to the French language--the _comforts_ of a _home_. - -“The greater portion of the liquid refuse,” writes Mr. Rammell, -“including water, which has been used in culinary or cleansing -processes, is got rid of by means of open channels laid across the -court-yards and the foot pavements to the street gutters, along which -it flows until it falls through the nearest gully into the sewers, and -ultimately into the Seine. If produced in the upper part of a house, -this description of refuse is first poured into an external shoot -branching out of the rainwater pipe, with one of which every floor is -usually provided. Iron pipes have been lately much introduced in place -of the open channels across the foot pavements; these are laid level -with the surface, and are cast with an open slit, about one inch in -width, at the top, to afford facility for cleansing. During the busy -parts of the day there are constant streams of such fluids running -through most of the streets of Paris, the smell arising from which is -by no means agreeable. In hot weather it is the practice to turn on -the public stand pipes for an hour or two, to dilute the matter and -accelerate its flow.” - -“With respect to fæcal refuse,” says Mr. Rammell, “and much of the -house-slops, particularly those of bed-chambers, the _cesspool_ is -universally adopted in Paris as the immediate receptacle.” - -By far the greater proportion of the wet house-refuse of Paris, -therefore, is deposited in cesspools. - -I shall, then, immediately proceed to show the quantity of matter thus -collected yearly, as well as the means by which it is removed. - -The aggregate _quantity_ of the cesspool matter of Paris has greatly -increased in quantity within the present century, though this might -have been expected, as well from the increase of population as from -the improved construction of cesspools (preventing leakage), and the -increased supply of water in the French metropolis. - -The following figures show both the aggregate quantity and the -increase that has taken place in the cesspoolage of Paris, from 1810 to -the present time:-- - - Cub. Mètres. Cub. Feet. - In 1810 the total - quantity of refuse matter - deposited in the - basins at Montfaucon - amounted to 50,151 = 1,770,330 - In 1811 the quantity - was 49,545 = 1,748,938 - In 1812 49,235 = 1,737,995 - ------ --------- - Giving an average - for the three years of 49,877 = 1,760,658 - The quantity at present - conveyed to Montfaucon - and Bondy - amounts, according to - M. Héloin (a very good - authority), to from 600 - to 700 cubic mètres - daily, giving, in round - numbers, an annual - quantity of 230,000 = 8,119,000 - -This shows an increase in 36 years of very nearly 400 per cent, but -still it constitutes little more than one-half the cesspoolage of -London. - -The quantity of refuse matter which is daily drawn from the cesspools, -Mr. Rammell states--and he had every assistance from the authorities -in prosecuting his inquiries--at “between 600 and 700 cubic mètres; -(21,180 and 24,710 cubic feet), giving, in round numbers, the annual -quantity of 230,000 cubic mètres. - -“Dividing this annual quantity at 230,000 cubic mètres (or 8,000,000 -cubic feet) by the number of the population of Paris (94,721 -individuals, according to the last census), we have 243 litres only as -the annual produce from each individual. The daily quantity of matter -(including water necessary for cleanliness) passing from each person -into the cesspool in the better class of houses is stated to be 1-3/4 -litre (3·08 pints), or 638 litres annually. The discrepancy between -these two quantities, wide as it is, must be accounted for by the fact -of a large proportion of the lower orders in Paris rarely or ever using -any privy at all, and by allowing for the small quantity of water made -use of in the inferior class of houses. There can be no doubt that -this latter quantity of 1-3/4 litre daily is very nearly correct, and -not above the average quantity used in houses where a moderate degree -of cleanliness is observed. This proportion was ascertained to hold -good in the case of some barracks in Paris, where the contents of the -cesspools were accurately measured, the total quantity divided by the -number of men occupying the barracks, and the quotient by the number of -days since the cesspools had been last emptied; the result showing a -daily quantity of 1-3/4 litre from each individual. - -“The average charge per cubic mètre for extraction and transport of the -cesspoolage is nine francs, giving a gross annual charge of 2,070,000 -francs (82,800_l._ sterling), which sum, it would appear, is paid every -year by the house-proprietors of Paris for the extraction of the matter -from their cesspools, and its transport to the Voirie.” - -Mr. Rammell says that, were a tubular system of house-drainage, such as -has been described under the proper head, adopted in Paris, in lieu of -the present mode, it would cost less than one-tenth of the expense now -incurred. - -The principal place of deposit for the general refuse of Paris has long -been at Montfaucon. A French writer, M. Jules Garnier, in a recent -work, “A Visit to Montfaucon,” says:--“For more than nine hundred years -Montfaucon has been devoted to this purpose. There the citizens of -Paris deposited their filth before the walls of the capital extended -beyond what is now the central quarter. The distance between Paris and -Montfaucon was then more than a mile and a half.” Thus it appears that -Montfaucon was devoted to its present purposes, of course in a much -more limited degree, as early as the reign of King Charles the Simple. - -This deposit of cesspool matter is the property of the commune (as in -the city of London it would be said to belong to the “corporation”), -and it is farmed out, for terms of nine years, to the highest bidders. -The amount received by the commune has greatly increased, as the -following returns, which are official, will show:-- - - A.D. Francs £ - 1808 the cesspoolage fetched 97,000, abt. 3,880 - 1817 „ 75,000, „ 3,000 - 1834 „ 165,000, „ 7,000 - 1843 „ 525,000, „ 21,000 - -It is here that the “_poudrette_,”[74] of which I have spoken -elsewhere, is prepared. Besides this branch of commerce, Montfaucon has -establishments for the extracting of ammonia from the cesspool matter, -and the right of doing so is now farmed out for 80,000 francs a-year -(3200_l_). - -Montfaucon is on the north side of Paris, and the place of refuse -deposit is known as the Voirie. The following account of it, and of -the manufacture of poudrette, is curious in many respects:-- - -“The area, which is about 40 acres in extent, is divided into three -irregular compartments:-- - -“1. The system of basins. - -“2. The ground used for spreading and drying the matter. - -“3. The place where the matter is heaped up after having been dried. - -“The basins, standing for the most part in gradations, one above -another, by reason of the slope of the ground, are six in number. The -two upper ones, which are upon a level, first receive the soil upon its -arrival at the Voirie; the four others are receptacles for the more -liquid portion as it gradually flows off from the upper basins. - -“There is a great difference in the character of the soil brought; that -taken from the upper part of the cesspools, and amounting to a large -proportion of the whole, being entirely liquid; while the remainder is -more or less solid, according to the depth at which it is taken. The -whole, however, during winter or rainy weather, is indiscriminately -deposited in the upper basins; but in dry weather, the nearly solid -portion is at once thrown upon the drying-ground.”[75] - -“The quantity of poudrette sold in 1818 was:-- - - At the Voirie 50,000 setiers[76] - Sent into the departments 20,000 „ - ------ - Total sale 70,000 „ - -at prices of 7, 8, and 9 francs the setier. - -“This is equal, at the average price of 8 francs, to 22,400_l._ -sterling. - -“The refuse liquids, as fast as they overflow the basins, or are passed -through the chemical works, are conducted into the public sewers, and -through them into the Seine, nearly opposite the Jardin des Plantes. -_They thus fall into the river at the very commencement of its course -through Paris, and pollute its waters before they have reached the -various works lower down and near the centre of the city, where they -are raised and distributed for household purposes, for the supply of -baths, and for the public fountains._ - -“Rats are found by thousands in the Voirie, and their voracity is such, -that I have often known them, during a single night, convert into -skeletons the carcasses of twenty horses which had been brought thither -the evening before. The bones are burnt to heat the coppers, or to get -rid of them. - -“Speaking of the disgusting practices at the Voirie, Mr. Gisquet -says, ‘I have seen men stark naked, passing entire days in the midst -of the basins, seeking for any objects of value they might contain. -I have seen others fishing for the rotten fish the market inspectors -had caused to be thrown into the basins. Two cartloads of spoilt and -stinking mackerel were thrown into the largest of the basins; two hours -afterwards all the fish had disappeared.’ - -“The emanations from the Voirie are, as may well be supposed, most -powerfully offensive. To a stranger unaccustomed to the atmosphere -surrounding them it would be almost impossible to make the tour of -the basins without being more or less affected with a disposition to -nausea. Large and numerous bubbles of gas are seen constantly rising -from a lake of urine and water, while evaporation of the most foul -description is going on from many acres of surrounding ground, upon -which the solid matter is spread to dry.” - -The late M. Parent du Châtelet, a high authority on this matter, stated -(in 1833) that the emanations from the Voirie were insupportable -within a circumference of 2000 mètres (about a mile and a quarter, -English measure); while the winds carried them sometimes, as was shown -when an official inquiry was made as to the ravages and causes of -cholera, 2-1/2 miles; and in certain states of the atmosphere, 8 French -miles (not quite 5 English miles). The same high authority has also -stated, that in addition to the emanations from the cesspool matter at -the Voirie the greater part of the carcasses of about 12,000 horses, -and between 25,000 and 30,000 smaller animals, were allowed to rot upon -the ground there. - -To abate this nuisance a new Voirie was, more than 20 years since, -formed in the forest of Bondy, 8 miles from Paris. It consists of -eight basins, four on each side of the Canal de l’Ourcq, arranged -like those at Montfaucon. The area of these basins is little short of -96,000 square yards, and their collective capacity upwards of 261,000 -cubic yards. The expectations of the relief that would be experienced -from the establishment of the new Voirie in the forest have not been -realized. The movable cesspools only have been conveyed there, by boats -on the canal, to be emptied; the empty casks being conveyed back by -the same boats. The basins are not yet full; for the conveyance by the -Canal de l’Ourcq is costly, and in winter its traffic is sometimes -suspended by its being frozen. In one year the cost of conveying these -movable cesspools to Bondy was little short of 1500_l._ - -In the latest Report on this subject (1835) the Commissioners, of whom -M. Parent du Châtelet was one, recommend that all the cesspool matter -at the Voiries should be disinfected. M. Salmon, after a course of -chemical experiments (the Report of the Commission states), disinfected -and carbonized a mass of mud and filth, containing much organic matter, -deposited (from a sewer) on the banks of the Seine. - -The Commissioners say, “The discovery of M. Salmon awakened the -attention of the contractors of Montfaucon, who employed one of our -most skilful chemists to find for them a means of disinfection other -than that for which M. Salmon had taken out a patent. M. Sanson and -some other persons made similar researches, and from their joint -investigations it resulted that disinfection might be equally well -produced with turf ashes, with carbonized turf, and with the simple -_débris_ of this very abundant substance; and that the same success -might be obtained with saw-dust, with the refuse matter of the -tan-yards, with garden mould, so abundant in the environs of Paris, and -with many other substances. A curious experiment has even shown, that -after mixing with a clayey earth a portion of fæcal matter, it was only -necessary to carbonize this mixture to obtain a perfect disinfectant -powder. Theory had already indicated the result.” - -This disinfection, however, has not been carried out in the Voiries, -nor in the manufacture of poudrette. - -From the account of the general refuse depositories of Paris we pass to -the particular receptacles or cesspools of the French capital. - -The Parisian cesspools are of two sorts:-- - -1. Fixed or excavated cesspools. - -2. Movable cesspools. - -“In early times the _excavated cesspools_ or pits were constructed in -the rudest manner, and cleaned out more or less frequently, or utterly -neglected, at the discretion of their owners. As the city increased in -size, however, and as the permeations necessarily taking place into -the soil accumulated in the lapse of centuries, the evil resulting -was found to be of grave magnitude, calling for prompt and vigorous -interference on the part of the authorities. It appears certain that -prior to the year 1819 (when a strict _ordonnance_ was issued on the -subject) the cesspools were very carelessly constructed. For the -most part they were far from water-tight, and very probably were not -intended to be otherwise. Consequently, nearly the whole of the fluid -matter within them drained into the springs beneath the substratum, or -became absorbed by the surrounding soil. Nor was this the only evil: -the basement walls of the houses became saturated with the offensive -permeations, and the atmosphere, more particularly in the interior of -the dwellings, tainted with their exhalations. - -“The _movable cesspools_, for the most part, consist simply of tanks -or barrels, which, when full, are removed to some convenient spot for -the purpose of their contents being discharged. This form of cesspool, -though not leading to that contamination of the substratum which is -naturally induced by the fixed or excavated cesspool, may occasion many -offensive nuisances from carelessness in overfilling, or in the process -of emptying.” - -“The movable cesspools are of two kinds; the one,” says Mr. Rammell, -“extremely simple and primitive in construction, the other more -complicated. The former retains all the refuse, both liquid and solid, -passed into it; the latter retains only the solid matter, the liquid -being separated by a sort of strainer, and running off into another -receptacle. - -“The advantage of this separating apparatus is, that those cesspools -provided with it require to be emptied less frequently than the others; -the solid matter being alone retained in the movable part. The liquid -portion is withdrawn from the tank into which it is received by pumping. - -“The other kind of movable cesspool consists simply of a wooden cask -set on end, and having its top pierced to admit the soil-pipe. It -is intended to retain both solid and liquid matter. When full, it -is detached, and the aperture in the top having been closed by a -tight-fitting lid secured by an iron bar placed across, it is removed, -and an empty one immediately substituted for it. - -“The movable cesspool last described is much more generally used than -the other kind; very few are furnished with the separating apparatus. -But the use of either sort, I am told, is not on the increase. The -movable cesspools are found, on the whole, to be more expensive than -the fixed, besides entailing many inconveniences, one of which is the -frequent entrance of workmen upon the premises for the purpose of -removing them, which sometimes has to be done every second or third -day. Moreover, if the cask becomes in the slightest degree overcharged, -there is an overflow of matter.” - -Indeed, the movable system of cesspools (it appears from further -accounts) seems to be now adopted only in those places where fixed -cesspools could not be altered in accordance with the ordonnance, or -where it is desired to avoid the first cost of a fixed cesspool. - -An ordonnance of 1819 enacts peremptorily that _all_ cesspools, fixed -or excavated, then existing, shall be altered in accordance with its -provisions upon the first subsequent emptying after the date of the -enactment, “or if that be found impracticable, they shall be filled -up.” This full delegation of power to a centralised authority was the -example prompting our late stringent enactments as to buildings and -sewerage. - -The French ordonnance provides also that the walls, arches, and bottoms -of the cesspools, shall be constructed of a very hard description of -stone, known as “pierres meulières” (mill-stone); the mortar used is -to be hydraulic lime and clean river sand. Each arch is to be 30 to -35 centimètres (12 to 14 inches) in thickness, and the walls 45 to 50 -centimètres (18 to 20 inches); the interior height not to be less than -2 mètres (2 yards 6 inches). A soil-pipe is always to be placed in the -middle of the cesspool; its interior diameter is not to be less than -9-7/8 inches in pottery-ware piping, or 7-7/8 inches in cast iron. A -vent-pipe, not less than 9-7/8 inches in diameter, is to be carried up -to the level of the chimney-tops, or to that of the chimneys of the -adjoining houses. This is, if possible, to divert the smell from the -house to which the cesspool is attached. - -“A principal object of the _ordonnance_,” it is stated in the Reports, -“was to ensure the cesspools being thenceforth made water-tight; -so that further pollution of the substratum and springs might be -prevented; and the provisions for its attainment have been very -strictly enforced by the police. The present cesspools are, in fact, -water-tight constructions, retaining the whole of the liquids passed -into them until the same are withdrawn by artificial means. The -advantage has its attendant inconveniences, and, moreover, has been -dearly paid for; for, independently of the cost of the alterations and -the increased cost of making the cesspools in the outset--the liquids -no longer draining away by natural permeation--the constant expense of -emptying them has enormously increased. In the better class of houses, -where water is more freely used, the operation has now to be repeated -every three, four, or five months, whereas formerly the cesspool was -emptied every eighteen months or two years. An increased water supply -has added to the evil, moderate even now as the extent of that supply -is.” - -“It is estimated that, in the better class of houses, the daily -quantity of matter, including the water necessary for cleanliness and -to ensure the passage of the solids through the soil-pipe, passing -into the cesspool from each individual, amounts to 1-3/4 litre (3·08 -English pints). Foreign substances are found in great abundance in the -cesspools; the large soil-pipes permitting their easy introduction; so -that the cesspool becomes the common receptacle for a great variety -of articles that it is desired secretly to get rid of. Article 19 of -the Police Regulations directs that nightmen finding any articles in -the cesspools, especially such as lead to the suspicion of a crime or -misdemeanor, shall make a declaration of the fact the same day to a -Commissary of Police.” - -In all such matters the police regulations of France are far more -stringent and exacting than those of England. - -“The cesspools vary considerably in foulness,” continues the Report; -“and _it is remarkable that those containing the greatest proportion of -water are the most foul and dangerous_. This is accounted for by the -increased quantity of sulphuretted hydrogen gas evolved: and is more -particularly the case where, from their large size, or from the small -number of people using them, much time is allowed for the matter to -stagnate and decompose in them. Soap-suds are said to add materially -to their offensive and dangerous condition. _The_ FOULNESS _of the -cesspools, therefore, would appear to be in direct proportion to the_ -CLEANLY _habits of the inmates of the houses to which they respectively -belong._ Where urine predominates ammoniacal vapours are given off in -considerable quantities, and although these affect the eyes of those -exposed to them--and the nightmen suffer much from inflammation of -these organs--no danger to life results. The inflammation, however, is -often sufficiently acute to produce temporary blindness, and from this -cause the men are at times thrown out of work for days together.”[77] - -The _emptying of the cesspools_ is the next point to be considered. - -No cesspool is allowed to be emptied in Paris, and no nightman’s cart, -containing soil, is allowed to be in the streets from 8 A.M. to 10 -P.M. from October 1st to March 31st, nor from 6 A.M. to 11 P.M. from -April 1st to September 30th. In the winter season the hours of labour -permitted by law are ten, and in the summer season seven, out of the -twenty-four; while in London the hours of night-work are limited to -five, without any distinction of season. These hours, however, only -relate to the cleansing of the fixed cesspools of Paris. - -Fixed or excavated cesspools are emptied into carts, which are driven -to the receptacles. As far as regards the removal of night-soil along -the streets, there are far more frequent complaints of stench and -annoyance in Paris than in London. None of these cesspools can be -emptied without authority from the police, and the police exercise -a vigilant supervision over the whole arrangements; neither can any -cesspool, after being emptied, be closed without a written authority, -after inspection, by the Director of Health; nor can a cesspool, if -found defective when emptied, be repaired without such authority. - -“With regard to the movable cesspool,” it is reported, “the process of -emptying is very simple, though undoubtedly demanding a considerable -expenditure of labour. The tank or barrel, when filled, is disconnected -from the soil-pipe, an empty one being immediately substituted in its -place, and the bung-hole being securely closed, it is conveyed away -on a vehicle, somewhat resembling a brewer’s dray (which holds about -eight or ten of them), to the spot appointed as the depository of its -discharged contents. The removal of movable cesspools is allowed to -take place during the day.” - -In opening a cesspool in Paris, precautions are always taken to prevent -accidents which might result from the escape or ignition of the gases. - -The general, not to say universal, mode of emptying the fixed or -excavated cesspools is to pump the contents into closed carts for -transport. - -“This operation is,” says Mr. Rammell, “performed with two descriptions -of pumps, one working on what may be called the _hydraulic_ principle, -the other on the _pneumatic_. In the former, the valves are placed -in the pipe communicating between the cesspool and the cart, and the -matter itself is pumped. In the latter, the valves are placed beyond -the cart, and the air being pumped out of the cart, the matter flows -into it to fill up the vacuum so occasioned. The real principle is -of course the same in both cases, the matter being forced up by -atmospheric pressure. One advantage of the pneumatic system is, that -there are no valves to impede the free passage of matter through the -suction-pipe; another, that it permits the use of a pipe of larger -diameter. - -“The cart employed for the pneumatic system consists of an iron -cylinder, mounted sometimes upon four, but generally upon two wheels, -the latter arrangement being found to be the more convenient. Previous -to use at the cesspool, the carts are drawn to a branch establishment, -situate just within the Barrière du Combat, where they are exhausted of -air with an air-pump, worked by steam power. A 12-horse engine erected -there is capable of exhausting five carts at the same time; the vacuum -produced being equal to 28-3/8 inches (72 centimètres) of mercury. A -cart (in good repair, and upon two wheels) will preserve a practical -vacuum for 48 hours after exhaustion.” - -The total weight of one of these carts when full is about 3 tons and 8 -cwt. This is somewhat more than the weight of the contents of a London -waggon employed in night-soil carriage. Three horses are attached to -each cart. - -When an opening into the cesspool has been effected, a suction-pipe on -the pneumatic principle is laid from the cesspool to the cart. This -pipe is 3-15/16 inches in diameter, and is in separate pieces of about -10 feet each, with others shorter (down even to 1 foot), to make up -any exact length required. Two kinds are commonly used; one made of -leather, having iron wire wound spirally inside to prevent collapse, -the other of copper. The leather pipe is used where a certain degree of -pliability is required; the copper for the straight parts of the line, -and for determined curves; pieces struck from various radii being made -for the purpose. - -Gutta-percha has been tried as a substitute for leather in the piping, -but was pronounced liable to split, and its use was abandoned. So with -India-rubber in London. - -The communication between the suction-pipe and the vehicle used by -the nightmen is opened by withdrawing a plug by means of a forked rod -into the “recess” (hollow) of the machine, an operation tasking the -muscular powers of two men. This done, the cesspool contents rush into -the cart, being forced up by the weight of the atmosphere to occupy the -existing vacuum; this occupies about three minutes. The cart, however, -is then but three-fourths filled with matter, the remaining fourth -being occupied by the rarefied air previously in the cart, and by the -air contained in the suction-pipe. This air is next withdrawn by the -action of a small air-pump, worked usually by two, but sometimes by one -man. The air-pump is placed on the ground at a little distance from -the cesspool cart, and communicates with it by a flexible India-rubber -tube, an inch in diameter. The air, as fast as it is pumped out, is -forced through another India-rubber tube of similar dimensions, which -communicates with a furnace, also placed on the ground at a little -distance from the air-pump, the pump occupying the middle space between -the cart and the furnace, the furnace and the pump being portable. To -ascertain when the vehicle is full, a short glass tube is inserted in -the end of the air-pipe (the end being of brass), and through this, -with the help of a small lantern, the matter is seen to rise. - -“The number of carts required for each operation,” states Mr. Rammell, -“of course varies according to the size of the cesspool to be emptied; -but as these contain on the average about five cartloads, that is the -number usually sent.[78] - -“In addition to the carts for the transport of the night-soil, a -light-covered spring van drawn by one horse is used to carry the tools, -&c., required in the process. - -“These tools consist of-- - -“1. An air-pump when the work is to be done on the pneumatic system, -and of an hydraulic pump when it is to be done on the hydraulic system. - -“2. About 50 mètres of suction-pipe of various forms and lengths. - -“3. A furnace for the purpose of burning the gases. - -“4. Wooden hods for the removal of the solid night-soil. - -“5. Pails, a ladder, pincers, levers, hammers, and other articles.” - -I have hitherto spoken of the _Pneumatic_ System of emptying the -Parisian cesspools. The results of the _Hydraulic_ System are so -similar, as regards time, &c., that only a brief notice is required. -The hydraulic pump is worked by four men; it is placed on the ground in -the place most convenient for the operation, and the cart is filled in -the space of from three to five minutes. - -A furnace is used. - -“The furnace,” says the Report, “consists of a sheet-iron cylinder, -about nine inches in diameter, pierced with small holes, and covered -with a conical cap to prevent the flame spreading. The vent-pipe first -communicates underneath with a small reservoir, intended to contain -the matter in case the operation should be carried too far. A piece is -inserted in the bottom of this reservoir, by unscrewing which it may be -emptied. The furnace is sometimes fixed upon a plank, which rests upon -two projecting pieces behind the cart.” - -An indicator is also used to show the advancement of the filling of -the cart; a glass tube and a cork float are the chief portions of the -apparatus of the indicator. - -“Towards the end of the operation, when the quantity of matter -remaining in the cesspool, although sufficiently fluid, is too shallow -for pumping, it is scooped into a large pail; and, the end of the -suction-pipe being introduced, drawn up into the cart. When the matter -is in too solid a state to pass through the pipe, it is carried to the -cart in hods, unless it is in considerable quantity. In that case it is -removed in vessels called _tinettes_, in the shape of a truncated cone, -holding each about 3-1/2 cubic feet. These vessels are closed with a -lid, and are lifted into an open waggon for transport.” - -Of these two systems the pneumatic is the more costly, and is likely to -be supplanted by the hydraulic. Each system, according to Mr. Rammell, -is still a nuisance, as, in spite of every precaution, the gases -escape the moment the cesspool emptying is commenced, and vitiate the -atmosphere. They force their way very often through the joints of the -pipes, and are insufficiently consumed in the furnaces. Mr. Rammell -mentions his having twice, after witnessing two of these operations, -suffered from attacks of illness. On the first occasion, the men -omitted to burn the foul air, and the atmosphere being heavy with -moisture, the odour was so intense that it was smelt from the Rue du -Port Mahon to the Rue Menars, more than 400 yards distant. - -The emptying of the cesspools is let by contract, the commune acting -in the light of a proprietor. To obtain a contract, a man must have -license or permission from the prefect of police, and such license -is only granted after proof that the applicant is provided with the -necessary apparatus, carts, &c., and also with a suitable dépôt for the -reception of the pumps, carts, &c., when not in use. The stock-in-trade -of a contractor is inspected at least twice a-year, and if found -inadequate or out of repair the license is commonly withdrawn. The -“gangs” of nightmen employed by the contractors are fixed by the law -at four men each (the number employed in London), but without any -legal provision on the subject. The terms of these contracts are not -stated, but they appear to have ceased to be undertakings by individual -capitalists, being all in the hands of companies, known as _compagnies -de vidanges_ (filth companies). There are now eight companies in -Paris carrying on these operations. More than half of the whole work, -however, is accomplished by one company, the “_Compagnie Richer_.” The -capital invested in their working stock is said to exceed 4,800,000 -francs (200,000_l._). They now require the labour of 350 horses, and -the use of 120 vehicles of different descriptions. - -The construction of a cesspool in Paris costs about 18_l._ as an -average. The houses containing from 30 to 70 inmates may have two, and -occasionally more, cesspools. Taking the average at one and a half, the -capital sunk in a cesspool is 27_l._ Mr. Rammell says:-- - -“Adopting these calculations of the number of cesspools to each house, -and their cost, and allowing only the small quantity of 1-3/4 litre -(3·08 pints) of matter to each individual, the annual expense of the -cesspool system in Paris, per house containing 24 persons, will be,-- - -“For interest, at 5 per cent upon capital sunk in works of -construction, 1_l._ 7_s._ - -“For extraction and removal of matter, 5_l._ 11_s._ - -“Total, 6_l._ 18_s._ - -“The annual expense per inhabitant will be 5_s._ 9_d._ - -“The latter, then, may be taken as the average yearly sum per head -actually paid by that portion of the inhabitants of Paris who use the -cesspools.” - -The following, among others before shown, are the conclusions arrived -at by Mr. Rammell:-- - -1. “That with the most perfect regulations, and the application of -machines constructed upon scientific principles, the operation of -emptying cesspools is still a nuisance, not only to the inmates of the -house to which it belongs, but to those of the neighbouring houses, and -to persons passing in the street. - -2. “That the cesspool system of Paris presents an obstacle to the -proper extension of the water supply, and consequently represses the -growth of habits of personal and domestic cleanliness, with their -immense moral results; and that in this respect it may be said to be -inconsistent with a high degree of civilization of the masses of any -community. - -3. “That, compared with a tubular system of refuse drainage, it is an -exceedingly expensive mode of disposing of the fæcal refuse of a town.” - - -OF THE EMPTYING OF THE LONDON CESSPOOLS BY PUMP AND HOSE. - -Having now ascertained the quantity of wet house-refuse annually -deposited in the cesspools of the metropolis, the next step is to show -the means by which these 15,000,000 cubic feet of cesspoolage are -removed, and whence they are conveyed, as well as the condition of the -labourers engaged in the business. - -There are two methods of removing the soil from the tanks:-- - -1. By pump and hose, or the hydraulic method; - -2. By shovel and tube, or manual labour. - -The first of these is the new French mode, and the other the old -English method of performing the work. The distinctive feature between -the two is, that in the one case the refuse is discharged by means of -pipes into the sewers, and in the other that it is conveyed by means of -carts to some distant night-yard. - -[Illustration: DIAGRAM OF THE - -MODE OF CLEANSING CESSPOOLS BY PUMP AND HOSE.] - -According to the French method, therefore, the cesspoolage ultimately -becomes sewage, the refuse being deposited in a cesspool for a greater -or a less space of time, and finally discharged into the sewers; so -that it is a kind of intermediate process between the cesspool system -and the sewer system of defecating a town, being, as it were, a -compound of the two. - -The great advantage of the sewer system, as contradistinguished from -the cesspool system of defecation, is, that it admits of the wet -refuse being removed from the neighbourhood of the house as soon -as it is produced; while the advantage of the cesspool system, as -contradistinguished from the sewer system, is, that it prevents the -contamination of the river whence the town draws its principal supply -of water. The cesspool system of defecation remedies the main evil of -the sewer system, and the sewer system the main evil of the cesspool -system. The French mode of emptying cesspools, however, appears to -have the peculiar property of combining the ill effects of both -systems without the advantages of either. The refuse of the house not -only remains rotting and seething for months under the noses of the -household, but it is ultimately--that is, after more than a year’s -decomposition--washed into the stream from which the inhabitants are -supplied with water, and so returned to them diluted in the form of -_aqua pura_, for washing, cooking, or drinking. The sole benefit -accruing from the French mode of nightmanship is, that it performs a -noisome operation in a comparatively cleanly manner; but surely this -is a small compensation for the evils attendant upon it. The noses -of those who prefer stagnant cesspools to rapid sewers cannot be so -particularly sensitive, that for the sake of avoiding the smell of -the nightman’s cart they would rather that its contents should be -discharged into the water that they use for household purposes. - -The hydraulic or pump-and-hose method of emptying the cesspools is -now practised by the Court of Sewers, who introduced the process into -London in the winter of 1847. The apparatus used in this country -consists of an hydraulic pump, which is generally placed six or eight -feet distant from, but sometimes close to, the cesspool--indeed, on -its edge. It is worked by two men, “just up and down,” as one of the -labourers described it to me, “like a fire-engine.” A suction-pipe, -with an iron nozzle, is placed in the cesspool, into which is first -introduced a deodorising fluid, in the proportion, as well as can be -estimated, of a pint to a square yard of matter, and diluted with water -from the fire-plugs. - -The pipes are of leather, the suction-pipes being wrapped with -spring-iron wire at the joints. India-rubber pipes were used, and -“answered very tidy,” one of the gangers told me, but they were too -expensive, the material being soon worn out: they were only tried -five or six months. The pipes now employed differ in no respect of -size or appearance from the leathern fire-engine pipes; and as the -work is always done in the daytime, and no smell arises from it, the -neighbourhood is often alarmed, and people begin to ask where the -fire is. One outsideman said, “Why, that’s always asked. I’ve been -asked--ay, I dare say a hundred times in a day--‘Where’s the fire? -where’s the fire?’” A cesspool, by this process, has been emptied into -a sewer at 300 yards distant. The pipe is placed within the nearest -gullyhole, down which the matter is washed into the sewer. When the -cesspool is emptied, it is well sluiced with water; the water is pumped -into the sewer, and then the work is complete. - -The pumping is occasionally very hard work, making the shoulders and -back ache grievously; indeed, some cesspools have been found so long -neglected, and so choked with rags and rubbish, that manual labour had -to be resorted to, and the matter dug and tubbed out, after the old -mode of the nightmen. A square yard of cesspoolage is cleared out, -under ordinary circumstances, in an hour; while an average duration of -time for the cleansing of a regularly-sized cesspool is from three to -four hours. - -A pneumatic pump, with an iron cart, drawn by two horses (similar to -the French invention), was tried as an experiment, but discontinued in -a fortnight. - -For the hydraulic method of emptying cesspools, a gang of four men, -under the direction of a ganger, who makes a fifth, is required. - -The _division of labour_ is as follows:-- - -1. The pumpmen, who, as their name implies, work the engine or pumps. - -2. The holeman, who goes into the cesspool and stirs up the matter, so -as to make it as fluid as possible. - -3. The outsideman, whose business it is to attend to the pipe, which -reaches from the cesspool, along the surface of the street, or other -place, to the gullyhole. - -4. The ganger, who is the superintendent of the whole, and is only -sometimes present at the operation; he is not unfrequently engaged, -while one cesspool is being emptied, in making an examination or any -necessary arrangement for the opening of another. He also gives notice -(acting under the instruction of the clerk of the works) to the water -company of the district, that the pumps will be at work in this or that -place, a notice generally given a day in advance, and the water is -supplied gratuitously, from a street fire-plug, and used at discretion, -some cesspool contents requiring three times more water than others to -liquefy them sufficient for pumping. - -The cesspool-pumping gangs are six in number, each consisting of five -men, although the “outsideman” is sometimes a strong youth of seventeen -or eighteen. The whole work is done by a contractor, who makes an -agreement with the Court of Sewers, and finds the necessary apparatus, -appointing his own labourers. All the present labourers, however, have -been selected as trusty men from among the flushermen, the contractor -concurring in the recommendation of the clerk of the works, or the -inspector. The cesspool-sewermen work in six districts. Two divisions -(east and west) of Westminster; Finsbury and Holborn; Surrey and Kent; -Tower Hamlets (now including Poplar); and the City. The districts -vary in size, but there is usually a gang devoted to each: in case -of emergency, however, a gang from another district (as among the -flushermen) is sent to expedite any pressing work. All the men are -paid by the job, the payment being 2_s._ each per job, to the pumpmen -and holeman, and 3_s._ to the ganger; but in addition to the 2_s._ per -job, the holeman has 6_d._ a-day extra; and the outsideman has 6_d._ -a-day _deducted_ from the 4_s._ he would earn in two jobs, which is a -frequent day’s work. The men told me that they had four or four and -a-half days’ work (or eight or nine jobs) every week; but such was the -case more particularly when the householders were less cognizant of -the work, and did not think of resorting to it; now, I am assured, the -men’s average employment may be put at five days a week, or ten jobs. - -The perquisites of these workmen are none, except the householder sends -them some refreshment on his own accord. There may be a perquisite, but -very rarely, occurring to the holeman, should he find anything in the -soil; but the finding is far less common than among the nightmen, with -whom the process goes through different stages. I did not hear among -cesspool-sewermen of anything being found by them or by their comrades; -of course, when the soil is once absorbed into the pipe, it is unseen -on its course of deposit down the gullyhole. - -The men have no trade societies, and no arrangements of any equivalent -nature; no benefit clubs or sick clubs, for which their number, indeed, -is too small; or, as my informant sometimes wound up in a climax, “No, -nothing that way, sir.” They are sober and industrious men, chiefly -married, and with families. Into further statistics, however, of diet, -rent, &c., I need not enter, concerning so small a body; they are the -same as among other well-conducted labourers. - -The men find their own dresses, which are of the same cost, form, and -material as I have described to pertain to the flushermen; also their -own “picks” and shovels, costing respectively 2_s._ 6_d._ and 2_s._ -3_d._ each. - -One cesspool-sewerman told me, that when he was first a member of one -of those gangs he was “awful abused” by the “regular nightmen,” if he -came across any of them “as was beery, poor fellows;” but that had all -passed over now. - -The total sum paid to the six gangs of labourers in the course of the -year would, at the rate of ten cesspools emptied per week, amount to -the following:-- - - Yearly Total. - 12 pumpmen, 10 jobs a-week each, - 20_s._ per week, or 52_l._ per year, each £624 - - 6 holemen, ditto, ditto, with 2_s._ 6_d._ - a-week extra 351 - - 6 outsidemen, 20_s._ a-week, less by - 6_d._ a-day, or 2_s._ 6_d._ a-week, 45_l._ - 10_s._ a-year 296 - 6 gangers, 30_s._ a-week each, or 78_l._ - per year 468 - ----- - £1739 - -Any householder, &c., who applies to the Court of Sewers, or to any -officer of the court whom he may know, has his cesspool cleansed by -the hydraulic method, in the same way as he might employ any tradesman -to do any description of work proper to his calling. The charge (by -the Court of Sewers) is 5_s._ or 6_s._ per square yard, according to -pipeage, &c. required; a cesspool emptied by this system costs from -20_s._ to 30_s._ The charges of the nightmen, who have to employ -horses, &c., are necessarily higher. - - Estimating that throughout London - 60 cesspools are emptied by the hydraulic - method every week, or 3120 - every year, and the charge for each to - be on an average 25_s._, we have for the - gross receipts 3120 × 25_s._ = £3900 - - And deducting from this the sum - paid for labour 1739 - ----- - It shows a profit of £2161 - -This is upwards of 123 per cent; but out of this, interest on capital -and wear and tear of machinery have to be paid. - -During the year 1851, I am credibly informed that as many as 3000 -sewers were emptied by the hydraulic process; and calculating each to -have contained the average quantity of refuse, viz. five tons or loads, -or about 180 cubic feet, we have an aggregate of 540,000 cubic feet of -cesspoolage ultimately carried off by the sewers. This, however, is -only a twenty-seventh of the entire quantity. - -The sum paid in wages to the men engaged in emptying these 3000 -cesspools by the hydraulic process would, at the rate of 2_s._ per man -to the four members of the gang, and 3_s._ to the ganger, or 11_s._ in -all for each cesspool, amount to 1650_l._, which is 139_l._ and 250 -cesspools less than the amount above given. - - -STATEMENT OF A CESSPOOL-SEWERMAN. - -I give the following brief and characteristic statement, which is -peculiar in showing the habitual _restlessness_ of the mere labourer. -My informant was a stout, hale-looking man, who had rarely known -illness. All these sort of labourers (nightmen included) scout the -notion of the cholera attacking _them!_ - -“Work, sir? Well, I think I _do_ know what work is, and has known it -since I was a child; and then I was set to help at the weaving. My -friends were weavers at Norwich, and 26 years ago, until steam pulled -working men down from being well paid and well off, it was a capital -trade. Why, my father could sometimes earn 3_l._ at his work as a -working weaver; there was money for ever then; now 12_s._ a-week -is, I believe, the tip-top earnings of his trade. But _I didn’t like -the confinement or the close air in the factories_, and so, when I -grew big enough, I went to ground-work in the city (so he frequently -called Norwich); I call ground-work such as digging drains and the -like. Then I ’listed into the Marines. _Oh, I hardly know what made -me_; men does foolish things and don’t know why; it’s human natur. -I’m sure it wasn’t the bounty of 3_l._ that tempted me, for I was -doing middling, and sometimes had night-work as well as ground-work -to do. I was then sent to Sheerness and put on board the _Thunderer_ -man-of-war, carrying 84 guns, as a marine. She sailed through the -Straits (of Gibraltar), and was three years and three months blockading -the Dardanelles, and cruising among the islands. I never saw anything -like such fortifications as at the Dardanelles; why, there was mortars -there as would throw a ton weight. No, I never heard of their having -been fired. Yes, we sometimes got leave for a party to go ashore on -one of the islands. They called them Greek islands, but I fancy as -how it was Turks near the Dardanelles. O yes, the men on the islands -was civil enough to us; they never spoke to us, and we never spoke -to them. The sailors sometimes, and indeed the lot of us, would have -bits of larks with them, laughing at ’em and taking sights at ’em and -such like. Why, I’ve seen a fine-dressed Turk, one of their grand -gentlemen there, when a couple of sailors has each been taking a sight -at him, and dancing the shuffle along with it, make each on ’em a low -bow, as solemn as could be. Perhaps he thought it was a way of being -civil in our country! I’ve seen some of the head ones stuck over with -so many knives, and cutlasses, and belts, and pistols, and things, -that he looked like a cutler’s shop-window. We were ordered home at -last, and after being some months in barracks, which I didn’t relish -at all, were paid off at Plymouth. Oh, a barrack life’s anything but -pleasant, but I’ve done with it. After that I was eight years and a -quarter a gentleman’s servant, coachman, or anything (in Norwich), -and then got tired of that and came to London, and got to ground and -new sewer-work, and have been on the sewers above five years. Yes, I -prefer the sewers to the Greek islands. I was one of the first set as -worked a pump. There was a great many spectators; I dare say as there -was 40 skientific gentlemen. I’ve been on the sewers, flushing and -pumping, ever since. The houses we clean out, all says it’s far the -best plan, ours is. ‘Never no more nightmen,’ they say. You see, sir, -our plan’s far less trouble to the people in the house, and there’s no -smell--least I never found no smell, and it’s cheap, too. In time the -nightmen’ll disappear; in course they must, there’s so many new dodges -comes up, always some one of the working classes is a being ruined. If -it ain’t steam, it’s something else as knocks the bread out of their -mouths quite as quick.” - - -OF THE PRESENT DISPOSAL OF THE NIGHT-SOIL. - -It would appear, according to the previous calculations, that of -the 15,000,000 cubic feet of house-refuse annually deposited in the -cesspools of the metropolis, about 500,000 cubic feet are pumped by the -French process into the sewers; consequently there still remains about -14,500,000 cubic feet, or about 404,000 loads, to be disposed of by -other means. I shall now proceed to explain how the cesspoolage proper, -that is to say, that which is removed by cartage rather than by being -discharged into the sewers, is ultimately got rid of. - -Until about twenty months ago, when the new sanitary regulations -concerning the disposal of night-soil came into operation, the cesspool -matter was “shot” in a night-yard, generally also a dust-yard. -These were the yards of the parish contractors, and were situate -in Maiden-lane, Paddington, &c., &c. Any sweeper-nightman, or any -nightman, was permitted by the proprietor of one of these places to -deposit his night-soil there. For this the depositor received no -payment, the privilege of having “a shoot” being accounted sufficient. - -There were, till within these six or eight years, I was informed, -60 places where cesspool manure could be shot. These included the -nightmen’s yards and the wharves of manure dealers (some of the small -coasting vessels taking it as ballast); but as regards the cesspool -filth, there are now none of these places of deposit, though some -little, I was told, might be done by stealth. - -Of one of these night-yard factories Dr. Gavin gave, in 1848, the -following account:-- - -“On the western side of Spitalfields workhouse, and entering from a -street called Queen-street, is a nightman’s yard. A heap of dung and -refuse of every description, about the size of a tolerably large house, -lies piled to the left of the yard; to the right is an artificial pond, -into which the contents of cesspools are thrown. The contents are -allowed to desiccate in the open air; and they are frequently stirred -for that purpose. The odour which was given off when the contents were -raked up, to give me an assurance that there was nothing so very bad in -the alleged nuisance, drove me from the place with the utmost speed. - -“On two sides of this horrid collection of excremental matter was -a patent manure manufactory. To the right in this yard was a large -accumulation of dung, &c., but to the left there was an extensive layer -of a compost of blood, ashes, and nitric acid, which gave out the most -horrid, offensive, and disgusting concentration of putrescent odours it -has ever been my lot to be the victim of. The whole place presented a -most foul and filthy aspect, and an example of the enormous outrages -which are perpetrated in London against society. - -“It is a curious fact, that the parties who had charge of these two -premises were each dead to the foulness of their own most pestilential -nuisances. The nightman’s servant accused the premises of the manure -manufacturer as the source of perpetual foul smells, but thought his -yard free from any particular cause of complaint; while the servant -of the patent manure manufacturer diligently and earnestly asserted -the perfect freedom of his master’s yard from foul exhalations; but -considered that the raking up of the drying night-soil on the other -side of the wall was ‘quite awful, and enough to kill anybody.’ - -“Immediately adjoining the patent manure manufactory is the -establishment of a bottle merchant. He complained to me in the -strongest terms of the expenses and annoyances he had been put to -through the emanations which floated in the atmosphere having caused -his bottles to spoil the wine which was placed in such as had not been -_very_ recently washed. He was compelled frequently to change his -straw, and frequently to wash his bottles, and considered that unless -the nuisance could be suppressed, he would be compelled to leave his -present premises.” - -This and similar places were suppressed soon after the passing of the -sanitary measures of September, 1848. - -The cesspool refuse, which was disposed of for manure, was at that time -first shot into recesses in the night-yard, where it was mixed with -exhausted hops procured from the brewhouses, which were said to absorb -the liquid portions, when stirred up with the matter, and to add not -only to the consistency of the mass, but to its readier portability for -land manure or for stowage in a barge. It was also mixed with littered -straw from the mews, and with stable manure generally. An old man who -had worked many years--he did not know how many--in one of these yards, -told me that when this night-soil was “fresh shot and first mixed” -(with the hops, &c.), the stench was often dreadful. “How we stood it,” -he said, “I don’t know; but we did stand it.” - -In one of the night-and-dust-yards, I ascertained that as many as 50 -loads, half of them waggon-loads, have been shot from the proprietor’s -own carts, and from the carts of the nightmen “using” the yard, in one -morning, but the average “shoot” was about ten loads (half a waggon) -a-day for six days in the week. - -Of the mode of manufacture of this manure, a full account has been -given in the details of the cesspool system of Paris, for the process -was the same in London, although on a much smaller scale; and indeed -the manufacture here was chiefly in the hands of Frenchmen. - -The manure was, after it had been deposited for periods varying from -one month to five or six, sold to farmers and gardeners at from 4_s._ -to 5_s._ the cart-load, although 4_s._, I was informed, might have -been the general average. The cesspool matter, considered _per se_, -was not worth, of late years, I am told, above 2_s._ a ton (or a load, -which is sometimes rather more and sometimes less than a ton). It was -when mixed that the price was 4_s._ to 5_s._ a ton. This cesspool filth -was shot on the premises of the manufacturer gratuitously, as it was in -any of the night-yards. It was not until it had been kept some time, -and had been mixed (generally) with other manures, and sometimes with -road-sweepings, that this manure was used in gardens; for it was said -that if this had not been done, its ammoniacal vapours would have been -absorbed and retained by the leaves of the fruit-trees. - -This night-soil manure was devoted to two purposes--to the manufacture -of deodorized and portable manure for exportation (chiefly to our -sugar-growing colonies), and to the fertilization of the land around -London. - -When manufactured into manure it was shipped--in new casks generally, -the manure casks of the outward voyage being transformed into the brown -sugar casks of the homeward-bound vessels. I was told by a seaman who -some years ago sailed to the West Indies, that these manure casks in -damp weather gave out an unpleasant odour. - -It was only to the home cultivators who resided at no great distance -from a night-yard, from five to six miles or a little more, that this -manure was sold to be carted away; their attendance at the markets -with carts, waggons, and horses, giving them facilities of conveying -the manure at a cheap rate. But upwards of three-fourths of the whole -was sent in barges into the more distant country parts, having a ready -water communication either by the Thames or by canal. - -The purchaser nearer home conveyed it away in his own cart, and with -his own horses, which had perhaps come up to town laden with cabbages -to Covent Garden, or hay to Cumberland-market, the cart being made -water-tight for the purpose. The “legal hours” to be observed in the -cleansing of cesspools, and the transport of the contents upon such -cleansing, not being required to be observed in this second transport -of the cesspool manure, it was carted away at any hour, as stable dung -now is. - -It is not possible at the present time, when night-yards are no longer -permitted to exist in London, and the manufacture of the night-soil -manure is consequently suppressed, to ascertain the precise quantities -disposed of commercially, in a former state of things. - -The money returns to the master-nightman for the manure he now collects -need no figures. The law requires him to refrain from shooting this -soil in his own yard, or in _any_ inhabited part of the metropolis, and -it is shot on the nearest farm to which he has access, merely for the -privilege of shooting it, the farmer paying nothing for the deposit, -with which he does what he pleases. It is mixed with other refuse, I -was told, at present, and kept as compost, or used on the land, but the -change is too recent for the establishment of any systematic traffic in -the article. - - -OF THE WORKING NIGHTMEN AND THE MODE OF WORK. - -Nightwork, by the provisions of the Police Act, is not to be commenced -before twelve at night, nor continued beyond five in the morning, -winter and summer alike. This regulation is known among the nightmen -as the “legal hours,” and tends, in a measure, to account for the -heterogeneous class of labourers who still seek nightwork; for -strong men think little of devoting a part of the night, as well -as the working hours of the day, to toil. A rubbish-carter, a very -powerfully-built man, told me he was partial to nightwork, and always -looked out for it, even when in daily employ, as “it was sometimes like -found money.” The scavengers, sweeps, dustmen, and labourers known as -ground-workers, are anxious to obtain night-work when out of regular -employment; and, ten years and more since, it was often an available -and remunerative resource. - -Night-work is, then, essentially, and perhaps necessarily, -extra-work, rather than a distinct calling followed by a separate -class of workers. The generality of nightmen are scavengers, or -dustmen, or chimney-sweepers, or rubbish-carters, or pipe-layers, -or ground-workers, or coal-porters, carmen or stablemen, or men -working for the market-gardeners round London--all either in or out -of employment. Perhaps there is not at the present time in the whole -metropolis a working nightman who is _solely_ a working nightman. - -It is almost the same with the master-nightmen. They are generally -master-chimney-sweepers, scavengers, rubbish-carters, and builders. -Some of the contractors for the public street scavengery, and the -house-dust-bin emptying, are (or have been) among the largest employers -of nightmen, but only in their individual trading capacity, for -they have no contracts with the parishes concerning the emptying -of cesspools; indeed the parish or district corporations have -nothing to do with the matter. I have already shown, that among the -best-patronised master-nightmen are now the Commissioners of the Court -of Sewers. - -For how long a period the master and working chimney-sweepers and -scavengers have been the master and labouring nightmen I am unable to -discover, but it may be reasonable to assume that this connexion, as a -matter of trade, existed in the metropolis at the commencement of the -eighteenth century. - -The police of Paris, as I have shown, have full control over cesspool -cleansing, but the police of London are instructed merely to prevent -night-work being carried on at a later or earlier period than “the -legal hours;” still a few minutes either way are not regarded, and the -legal hours, I am told, are almost always adhered to. - -Nightwork is carried on--and has been so carried on, within the memory -of the oldest men in the trade, who had never heard their predecessors -speak of any other system--after this method:--A gang of four men -(exclusive of those who have the care of the horses, and who drive -the night-carts to and from the scenes of the men’s labours at the -cesspools) are set to work. The labour of the gang is divided, though -not with any individual or especial strictness, as follows:-- - -1. The _holeman_, who goes into the cesspool and fills the tub. - -2. The _ropeman_, who raises the tub when filled. - -3. The _tubmen_ (of whom there are two), who carry away the tub when -raised, and empty it into the cart. - -The mode of work may be thus briefly described:--Within a foot, or -even less sometimes, though often as much as three feet, below the -surface of the ground (when the cesspool is away from the house) is -what is called the “main hole.” This is the opening of the cesspool, -and is covered with flag stones, removable, wholly or partially, by -means of the pickaxe. If the cesspool be immediately under the privy, -the flooring, &c., is displaced. Should the soil be near enough to the -surface, the tub is dipped into it, drawn out, the filth scraped from -its exterior with a shovel, or swept off with a besom, or washed off -by water flung against it with sufficient force. This done, the tubmen -insert the pole through the handles of the tub, and bear it on their -shoulders to the cart. The mode of carriage and the form of the tub -have been already shown in an illustration, which I was assured by a -nightman who had seen it in a shopwindow (for he could not read), was -“as nat’ral as life, tub and all.” - -Thus far, the ropeman and the holeman generally aid in filling the tub, -but as the soil becomes lower, the vessel is let down and drawn up full -by the ropeman. When the soil becomes lower still, a ladder is usually -planted inside the cesspool; the “holeman,” who is generally the -strongest person in the gang, descends, shovels the tub full, having -stirred up the refuse to loosen it, and the contents, being drawn up by -the ropeman, are carried away as before described. - -The labour is sometimes severe. The tub when filled, though it is never -quite filled, weighs rarely less than eight stone, and sometimes more; -“but that, you see, sir,” a nightman said to me, “depends on the nature -of the sile.” - -Beer, and bread and cheese, are given to the nightmen, and frequently -gin, while at their work; but as the bestowal of the spirit is -voluntary, some householders from motives of economy, or from being -real or pretended members or admirers of the total-abstinence -principles, refuse to give any strong liquor, and in that case--if -such a determination to withhold the drink be known beforehand--the -employers sometimes supply the men with a glass or two; and the men, -when “nothing better can be done,” club their own money, and send to -some night-house, often at a distance, to purchase a small quantity -on their own account. One master-nightman said, he thought his men -worked best, indeed he was sure of it, “with a drop to keep them up;” -another thought it did them neither good nor harm, “in a moderate way -of taking it.” Both these informants were themselves temperate men, -one rarely tasting spirits. It is commonly enough said, that if the -nightmen have no “allowance,” they will work neither as quickly nor -as carefully as if accorded the customary gin “perquisite.” One man, -certainly a very strong active person, whose services where quickness -in the work was indispensable might be valuable (and he had work as a -rubbish-carter also), told me that he for one would not work for any -man at nightwork if there was not a fair allowance of drink, “to keep -up his strength,” and he knew others of the same mind. On my asking -him what he considered a “fair” allowance, he told me that at least a -bottle of gin among the gang of four was “looked for, and mostly had, -over a gentleman’s cesspool. And little enough, too,” the man said, -“among four of us; what it holds if it’s public-house gin is uncertain: -for you must know, sir, that some bottles has great ‘kicks’ at their -bottoms. But I should say that there’s been a bottle of gin drunk at -the clearing of every two, ay, and more than every two, out of three -cesspools emptied in London; and now that I come to think on it, I -should say that’s been the case with three out of every four.” - -Some master-nightmen, and more especially the sweeper-nightmen, work -at the cesspools themselves, although many of them are men “well to -do in the world.” One master I met with, who had the reputation of -being “warm,” spoke of his own manual labour in shovelling filth in -the same self-complacent tone that we may imagine might be used by a -grocer, worth his “plum,” who quietly intimates that he will serve a -washerwoman with her half ounce of tea, and weigh it for her himself, -as politely as he would serve a duchess; for _he_ wasn’t above his -business: neither was the nightman. - -On one occasion I went to see a gang of nightmen at work. Large horn -lanterns (for the night was dark, though at intervals the stars shone -brilliantly) were placed at the edges of the cesspool. Two poles also -were temporarily fixed in the ground, to which lanterns were hung, but -this is not always the case. The work went rapidly on, with little -noise and no confusion. - -The scene was peculiar enough. The artificial light, shining into the -dark filthy-looking cavern or cesspool, threw the adjacent houses into -a deep shade. All around was perfectly still, and there was not an -incident to interrupt the labour, except that at one time the window of -a neighbouring house was thrown up, a night-capped head was protruded, -and then down was banged the sash with an impatient curse. It appeared -as if a gentleman’s slumbers had been disturbed, though the nightmen -laughed and declared it was a lady’s voice! The smell, although the air -was frosty, was for some little time, perhaps ten minutes, literally -sickening; after that period the chief sensation experienced was a -slight headache; the unpleasantness of the odour still continuing, -though without any sickening effect. The nightmen, however, pronounced -the stench “nothing at all;” and one even declared it was refreshing! - -The cesspool in this case was so situated that the cart or rather -waggon could be placed about three yards from its edge; sometimes, -however, the soil has to be carried through a garden and through the -house, to the excessive annoyance of the inmates. The nightmen whom I -saw evidently enjoyed a bottle of gin, which had been provided for them -by the master of the house, as well as some bread and cheese, and two -pots of beer. When the waggon was full, two horses were brought from a -stable on the premises (an arrangement which can only be occasionally -carried out) and yoked to the vehicle, which was at once driven away; a -smaller cart and one horse being used to carry off the residue. - - -TABLE SHOWING THE NUMBER OF MASTER-SWEEPS, DUST, AND OTHER CONTRACTORS, -AND MASTER-BRICKLAYERS, THROUGHOUT THE METROPOLIS, ENGAGED IN -NIGHT-WORK, AS WELL AS THE NUMBER OF CESSPOOLS EMPTIED, AND QUANTITY OF -SOIL COLLECTED YEARLY. ALSO THE PRICE PAID TO EACH OPERATIVE PER LOAD, -OR PER NIGHT, AND THE TOTAL AMOUNT ANNUALLY PAID TO THE MASTER-NIGHTMEN. - - --------------+------------------------------------------------------------ - |Number of Cesspools - |emptied during the year. - | | - | |Quantity of Night-soil - | |collected annually. - | | | - | | |Number of operative - | | |Nightmen employed to - | | |empty each Cesspool. - | | | | - | | | |Total number of times - | | | |the working Nightmen are - | | | |employed during the year. - | | | | | - SWEEPS | | | | |Sum paid to each operative - EMPLOYED | | | | |Nightman engaged in removing - AS | | | | |soil from Cesspools. - NIGHTMEN | | | | | | - | | | | | |Total Amount - | | | | | |paid to the operative - | | | | | |Nightmen during - | | | | | |the year. - | | | | | | | - | | | | | | |Total Amount - | | | | | | |paid to - | | | | | | |Master-Nightmen - | | | | | | |during the year - | | | | | | |for emptying - | | | | | | |Cesspools, at - | | | | | | |10_s._ per load. - --------------+----+------+----+------+------+--------------+---------------- - | |Loads.| | |Pence.| £ _s._ _d._ | £. - KENSINGTON. | | | | | | | - Hurd | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Francis | 12| 72 | 4 | 48| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Russell | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Hough | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 7 | 3 10 0 | 60 - CHELSEA. | | | | | | | - Burns | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Clements | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Groves | 18| 108 | 3 | 54| 6 | 2 14 0 | 54 - Clayton | 20| 120 | 3 | 60| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Sheppard | 14| 84 | 4 | 56| 6 | 2 2 0 | 32 - Nie | 16| 96 | 3 | 48| 6 | 2 8 0 | 48 - Haddox | 20| 120 | 3 | 60| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Albrook | 30| 180 | 4 | 120| 7 | 5 5 0 | 90 - WESTMINSTER. | | | | | | | - Peacock | 60| 360 | 4 | 240| 7 | 10 10 0 | 180 - Reiley | 40| 240 | 4 | 160| 7 | 6 13 4 | 120 - White | 20| 120 | 3 | 60| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Ramsbottom | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Ness | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Porter | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 4 | 30 - Edwards | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Andrews | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Foreman | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 4 | 30 - ST. MARTIN’S. | | | | | | | - Wakefield | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Whateley | 6| 36 | 3 | 18| 6 | 0 18 0 | 18 - Templeton | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Pearce | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - MARYLEBONE. | | | | | | | - Effery | 2| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Brigham | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Ballard | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Pottle | 25| 150 | 4 | 100| 7 | 3 15 0 | 75 - Shadwick | 20| 120 | 3 | 60| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Wilson | 20| 120 | 3 | 60| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Lewis | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Cuss | 30| 180 | 4 | 120| 7 | 4 10 0 | 90 - Wood | 20| 120 | 3 | 60| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - PADDINGTON. | | | | | | | - Prichard | 20| 120 | 3 | 60| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Randall | 25| 150 | 3 | 75| 6 | 3 15 0 | 75 - Brown | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Lamb | 20| 120 | 3 | 60| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Bolton | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Davis | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Rickwood | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 4 - Elkins | 6| 36 | 3 | 18| 6 | 0 18 0 | 18 - HAMPSTEAD. | | | | | | | - Kippin | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Bowden | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - ISLINGTON. | | | | | | | - Hughes | 25| 150 | 3 | 75| 6 | 3 15 0 | 75 - Boven | 20| 120 | 3 | 60| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Chilcott | 25| 150 | 3 | 75| 6 | 3 15 0 | 75 - Baker | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Burrows | 20| 120 | 3 | 60| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - ST. PANCRAS. | | | | | | | - Justo | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Neill | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Robinson | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Marriage | 20| 120 | 3 | 60| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Rose | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Hall | 20| 120 | 3 | 60| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Jenkins | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Steel | 4| 24 | 3 | 12| 6 | 0 12 0 | 12 - Lake | 60| 360 | 4 | 240| 7 | 10 10 0 | 180 - Hewlett | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Snell | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - McDonald | 30| 180 | 4 | 120| 7 | 5 5 0 | 90 - HACKNEY. | | | | | | | - Mason | 20| 120 | 3 | 60| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Clark | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Starkey | 25| 150 | 4 | 100| 6 | 3 15 0 | 75 - Attewell | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 7 | 3 10 0 | 60 - Brown | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - ST. GILES | | | | | | | - AND ST. | | | | | | | - GEORGE’S, | | | | | | | - BLOOMSBURY. | | | | | | | - Store | 20| 120 | 3 | 60| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Richards | 20| 120 | 3 | 60| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Norris | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 3 16 0 | 36 - Eldridge | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Davis | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Francis | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Tiney | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Johnson | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Tinsey | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Randall | 4| 24 | 3 | 12| 6 | 0 12 0 | 12 - Day | 60| 360 | 4 | 240| 7 | 10 10 0 | 180 - STRAND. | | | | | | | - Catlin | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Richards | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Hutchins | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Barker | 4| 24 | 3 | 12| 6 | 0 12 0 | 12 - HOLBORN. | | | | | | | - Duck | 30| 180 | 4 | 120| 7 | 5 5 0 | 90 - Eagle | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 7 | 3 10 0 | 60 - Froome | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Smith | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - CLERKENWELL. | | | | | | | - Davis | 30| 180 | 3 | 90| 6 | 4 10 0 | 90 - Brown | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 7 | 3 10 0 | 60 - Day | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Hawkins | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Grant | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - ST. LUKE’S. | | | | | | | - Brown | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 7 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Mawley | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 7 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Stevens | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Badger | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Lewis | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - EAST LONDON. | | | | | | | - Crozier | 30| 180 | 4 | 120| 7 | 5 5 0 | 90 - James | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 7 | 3 10 0 | 60 - Dawson | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Newell | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 7 | 3 10 0 | 60 - Lumley | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Harvey | 6| 36 | 3 | 18| 6 | 0 18 0 | 18 - WEST LONDON. | | | | | | | - Rayment | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Clarke | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 7 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Watson | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Desater | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - LONDON, CITY. | | | | | | | - Tyler and | | | | | | | - Tyso | 30| 180 | 4 | 120| 7 | 5 5 0 | 90 - Burgess | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 7 | 3 10 0 | 60 - Wilson | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 7 | 3 10 0 | 60 - Potter | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Wright | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - SHOREDITCH. | | | | | | | - Wells | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Whittle | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Collins | 15| 90 | 3 | 45| 6 | 2 5 0 | 45 - Crew | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Atwood | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Conroy | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Pusey | 6| 36 | 3 | 18| 6 | 0 18 0 | 18 - Pedrick | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - BETHNAL GREEN.| | | | | | | - Crosby | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Mull | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Darby | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Hall | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Collins | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - WHITECHAPEL. | | | | | | | - Brazier | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Harrison | 20| 120 | 3 | 60| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Harris | 16| 96 | 3 | 48| 6 | 2 8 0 | 48 - Mantz | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Whitehead | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - ST. GEORGE-IN-| | | | | | | - THE-EAST. | | | | | | | - Rawton | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Wrotham | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Harewood | 20| 120 | 3 | 60| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Rawthorn | 25| 150 | 4 | 100| 6 | 3 15 0 | 75 - Darling | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Jones | 15| 90 | 3 | 45| 6 | 2 5 0 | 45 - Johnson | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Simpson | 15| 90 | 3 | 45| 6 | 2 5 0 | 45 - BERMONDSEY. | | | | | | | - Wilkinson | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Goring | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 36 - Lively | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 2 4 0 | 30 - Stone | 9| 54 | 3 | 27| 6 | 1 7 0 | 24 - Ward | 6| 36 | 3 | 18| 6 | 0 18 0 | 24 - WALWORTH AND | | | | | | | - NEWINGTON. | | | | | | | - Kingsbury | 6| 36 | 3 | 18| 6 | 0 18 0 | 27 - Goodge | 4| 24 | 3 | 12| 6 | 0 12 0 | 18 - Wells | 15| 90 | 3 | 45| 6 | 2 5 0 | 18 - Wilks | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 12 - James | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 45 - Morgan | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 36 - Croney | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 30 - Holmes | 8| 48 | 3 | 4| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - STEPNEY. | | | | | | | - Newell | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Fleming | 20| 120 | 3 | 60| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Tuff | 20| 120 | 3 | 60| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Hillings- | | | | | | | - worth | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Smith | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Field | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - POPLAR. | | | | | | | - Weaver | 18| 108 | 3 | 54| 6 | 2 14 0 | 54 - Strawson | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Culloder | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Ward | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - ST. OLAVE’S, | | | | | | | - ST. | | | | | | | - SAVIOUR’S, | | | | | | | - AND ST. | | | | | | | - GEORGE’S, | | | | | | | - SOUTHWARK. | | | | | | | - Vines | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Humfry | 15| 90 | 3 | 45| 6 | 2 5 0 | 45 - Young | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - James | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Penn | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Holliday | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Muggeridge | 15| 90 | 3 | 45| 6 | 2 5 0 | 45 - Alcorn | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Fisher | 12| 72 | 3 | 26| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Goode | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Smith | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Roberts | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Pilkington | 9| 54 | 3 | 27| 6 | 1 7 0 | 27 - Lindsey | 6| 36 | 3 | 18| 6 | 0 18 0 | 18 - Daycock | 6| 36 | 3 | 18| 6 | 0 18 0 | 18 - Moulton | 4| 24 | 3 | 12| 6 | 0 12 0 | 12 - LAMBETH. | | | | | | | - Roberts | 25| 150 | 4 | 100| 7 | 4 7 6 | 75 - Holland | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Ballard | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Brown | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Mills | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Giles | 6| 36 | 3 | 18| 6 | 0 18 0 | 18 - Spooner | 6| 36 | 3 | 18| 6 | 0 18 0 | 18 - Green | 4| 24 | 3 | 12| 6 | 0 12 0 | 12 - Barnham | 4| 24 | 3 | 12| 6 | 0 12 0 | 12 - Price | 4| 24 | 3 | 12| 6 | 0 12 0 | 12 - CHRISTCHURCH, | | | | | | | - LAMBETH. | | | | | | | - Plummer | 18| 108 | 3 | 54| 6 | 2 14 0 | 54 - Steers | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Clare | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Garlick | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Hudson | 6| 36 | 3 | 18| 6 | 0 18 0 | 18 - Jones | 4| 24 | 3 | 12| 6 | 0 12 0 | 12 - WANDSWORTH & | | | | | | | - BATTERSEA. | | | | | | | - Foreman | 15| 90 | 3 | 45| 6 | 2 5 0 | 45 - Smith | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - Giles | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Davis | 6| 36 | 3 | 18| 6 | 0 18 0 | 18 - Flushman | 4| 24 | 3 | 12| 6 | 0 12 0 | 12 - ROTHERHITHE. | | | | | | | - Shelley | 6| 36 | 3 | 18| 6 | 0 18 0 | 18 - Richardson | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Norris | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - Smith | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Dyer | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - GREENWICH & | | | | | | | - DEPTFORD. | | | | | | | - Manning | 30| 180 | 4 | 120| 6 | 4 10 0 | 90 - Vines | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Roseworthy | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Tyler | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Munshin | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - WOOLWICH. | | | | | | | - Pearce | 30| 180 | 4 | 120| 6 | 4 10 0 | 90 - Fiddeman | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Sims | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Smithers | 12| 72 | 3 | 36| 6 | 1 16 0 | 36 - Rooke | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - James | 8| 48 | 3 | 24| 6 | 1 4 0 | 24 - LEWISHAM. | | | | | | | - Ridgeway | 20| 120 | 4 | 80| 6 | 3 0 0 | 60 - Binney | 10| 60 | 3 | 30| 6 | 1 10 0 | 30 - +----+------+----+------+------+------------- +----- - Total for |2992| 14960|3&4 |10,062|6&7d. |455 15 0 |£7480 - Sweep-nightmen - - -DUST AND OTHER CONTRACTORS ENGAGED AS NIGHTMEN. - - --------------+------+-------+----+-------+------+----------+---------- - | | Loads.| | |Pence.| £ _s. d._| £ _s._ - Darke | 50| 300 | 4 | 200 | 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Cooper | 300| 1800 | 4 | 1200 | 8 |60 0 0| 945 0 - Dodd | 300| 1800 | 4 | 1200 | 8 |60 0 0| 945 0 - Starkey | 250| 1500 | 4 | 1000 | 8 |50 0 0| 787 10 - Williams | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Boyer | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Gore | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Limpus | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Emmerson | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Duggins | 360| 2160 | 4 | 1440 | 8 |72 0 0| 1134 0 - Bugbee | 250| 1500 | 4 | 1000 | 8 |50 0 0| 787 10 - Gould | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Reddin | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Newman | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Tame | 300| 1800 | 4 | 1200 | 8 |60 0 0| 945 0 - Sinnot | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Tomkins | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Cordroy | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Samuels | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Robinson | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Bird | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Clarke | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Brown | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Bonner | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Guess | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Jeffries | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Ryan | 60| 360 | 4 | 240 | 8 |12 0 0| 189 0 - Hewitt | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Leimming | 50| 300 | 4 | 200 | 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Ellis | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Monk | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Phillips | 250| 1000 | 4 | 1000 | 8 |33 6 8| 525 0 - Porter | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Dubbins | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Taylor | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Nicholls | 250| 1000 | 4 | 1000 | 8 |33 6 8| 525 0 - Freeman | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Pattison | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Rawlins | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Watkins | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Liddiard | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Farmer | 250| 1500 | 4 | 1000 | 8 |50 0 0| 787 10 - Francis | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Chadwick | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Perkins | 80| 480 | 4 | 320 | 8 |16 0 0| 252 0 - Culverwell | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Rutty | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Crook | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - M’Carthy | 50| 300 | 4 | 200 | 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Bateman | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Boothe | 250| 1500 | 4 | 1000 | 8 |50 0 0| 787 10 - Wood | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Calvert | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Tilley | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Abbott | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Potter | 250| 1500 | 4 | 1000 | 8 |50 0 0| 787 10 - Church | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Humphries | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Jackson | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Batterbury | 50| 300 | 4 | 200 | 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Smith | 50| 300 | 4 | 200 | 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Perkins | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Rose | 50| 300 | 4 | 200 | 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Croot | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Speller | 50| 300 | 4 | 200 | 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Piper | 50| 300 | 4 | 200 | 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - North | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Crooker | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Tingey | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Jones | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Whitten | 300| 1800 | 4 | 1200 | 8 |60 0 0| 945 0 - Webbon | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Ryder | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |30 0 0| 315 0 - Wright | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Duckett | 300| 1800 | 4 | 1200 | 8 |60 0 0| 945 0 - Elworthy | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Slee | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Adams | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Gutteris | 50| 300 | 4 | 200 | 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Martainbody | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Nicholson | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Mears | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Parsons | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Kenning | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Hooke | 250| 1500 | 4 | 1000 | 8 |50 0 0| 787 10 - Michell | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Walton | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Evans | 50| 300 | 4 | 200 | 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Walker | 90| 540 | 4 | 360 | 8 |18 0 0| 283 10 - Hobman | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Stevens | 250| 1500 | 4 | 1000 | 8 |50 0 0| 787 10 - Jeffry | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Hiscock | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Allen | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Connall | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Waller | 50| 300 | 4 | 200 | 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Mullard | 50| 300 | 4 | 200 | 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Miller | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Barnes | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Sharpe | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Graham | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Wellard | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Hollis | 50| 300 | 4 | 200 | 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Fletcher | 150| 900 | 4 | 600 | 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Hearne | 100| 600 | 4 | 400 | 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Stapleton | 50| 300 | 4 | 200 | 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Martin | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800 | 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Prett and | | | | | | | - Sewell | 300| 1800 | 4 | 1200| 8 |60 0 0| 945 0 - Jenkins | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800| 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Westley | 150| 900 | 4 | 600| 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Bird | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Gale | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800| 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Porter | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Wells | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800| 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Hall | 250| 1500 | 4 | 1000| 8 |50 0 0| 787 10 - Kitchener | 150| 900 | 4 | 600| 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Wickham | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Walker | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800| 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Bindy | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Styles | 250| 1500 | 4 | 1000| 8 |50 0 0| 787 10 - Kirtland | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Kingston | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Eldred | 150| 900 | 4 | 600| 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Rumball | 250| 1500 | 4 | 1000| 8 |50 0 0| 787 10 - Mildwater | 60| 360 | 4 | 240| 8 |12 0 0| 189 0 - Lovell | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Clarkson | 150| 900 | 4 | 600| 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Rhodes | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Pine | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800| 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Monk | 250| 1500 | 4 | 1000| 8 |50 0 0| 787 10 - Gabriel | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Packer | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800| 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Crawley | 250| 1500 | 4 | 1000| 8 |50 0 0| 787 10 - Easton | 150| 900 | 4 | 600| 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Marsland | 150| 900 | 4 | 600| 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - East | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Turtle | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800| 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Fuller | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800| 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Taylor | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Ginnow | 150| 900 | 4 | 600| 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Peakes | 150| 900 | 4 | 600| 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Fleckell | 50| 300 | 4 | 200| 8 |60 0 0| 157 10 - Cook | 50| 300 | 4 | 200| 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Stewart | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Cooper | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Bentley | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800| 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Harford | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800| 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Litten | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Mills | 150| 900 | 4 | 600| 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Voy | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Cortman | 50| 300 | 4 | 200| 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Forster | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Davison | 150| 900 | 4 | 600| 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Williams | 250| 1500 | 4 | 1000| 8 |50 0 0| 787 10 - Draper | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800| 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Claxton | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Robertson | 50| 300 | 4 | 200| 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Cornwall | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Price | 150| 900 | 4 | 600| 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Milligan | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800| 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - West | 250| 1500 | 4 | 1000| 8 |50 0 0| 787 10 - Wilson | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Lawn | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Oakes | 50| 300 | 4 | 200| 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Joliffe | 150| 900 | 4 | 600| 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Liley | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 313 0 - Treagle | 120| 720 | 4 | 480| 8 |24 0 0| 378 0 - Coleman | 50| 300 | 4 | 200| 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Brooker | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800| 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Dignam | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800| 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Hillier | 150| 900 | 4 | 600| 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Simmonds | 150| 900 | 4 | 600| 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Penrose | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Jordan | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800| 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Macey | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Williams | 150| 900 | 4 | 600| 8 |30 0 0| 472 10 - Palmer | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800| 8 |40 0 0| 650 0 - Anderson | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - George | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800| 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Hasleton | 50| 300 | 4 | 200| 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Willis | 250| 1500 | 4 | 1000| 8 |50 0 0| 787 10 - Farringdon | 50| 300 | 4 | 200| 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Doyle | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Lamb | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Bolton | 200| 1200 | 4 | 800| 8 |40 0 0| 630 0 - Lovelock | 250| 1500 | 4 | 1000| 8 |50 0 0| 787 10 - Ashfield | 50| 300 | 4 | 200| 8 |10 0 0| 157 10 - Braithwaite | 100| 600 | 4 | 400| 8 |20 0 0| 315 0 - Total for Dust+------+-------+----+-------+------+----------+---------- - and other | - Contractors | - engaged as | - Nightmen |27,820|139,100| 4 |101,240| 8_d._|£5596 13 4|£73,027 10 - - -MASTER-BRICKLAYERS ENGAGED AS NIGHTMEN. - - -----------+-----+--------+---+------+---------+----------+-------- - | | | | |Average 2| | - | | | | |Cesspools| | - | | | | | a Night.| | - | | Loads. | | | |£. _s. d._| £. _s._ - Albon | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400 |5_s._ ea.| 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Danver | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600 | „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Buck | 90 | 540 | 4 | 360 | „ | 11 5 0 | 283 10 - Aldred | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600 | „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Bowler | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600 | „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Deacon | 250 | 1500 | 4 | 1000 | „ | 31 5 0 | 787 10 - Barrett | 200 | 1200 | 4 | 800 | „ | 25 0 0 | 630 0 - Elmes | 90 | 540 | 4 | 360 | „ | 11 5 0 | 283 10 - Gray | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400 | „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Emmerton | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600 | „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Coleman | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400 | „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Belchier | 250 | 1500 | 4 | 1000 | „ | 31 5 0 | 787 0 - Wade | 200 | 1200 | 4 | 800 | „ | 25 0 0 | 630 0 - Turner | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400 | „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Sutton | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600 | „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Cutmore | 200 | 1200 | 4 | 800 | „ | 25 0 0 | 630 0 - Plowman | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600 | „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Brockwell | 200 | 1200 | 4 | 800 | „ | 25 0 0 | 630 0 - Bellamy | 200 | 1200 | 4 | 800 | „ | 25 0 0 | 630 0 - Janes | 50 | 300 | 4 | 200 | „ | 6 5 0 | 157 10 - Higgs | 50 | 300 | 4 | 200 | „ | 6 5 0 | 157 10 - Avery | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400 | „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Bailey | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600 | „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Pitman | 200 | 1200 | 4 | 800 | „ | 25 0 0 | 630 0 - Hosier | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600 | „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Chambers | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600 | „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Turner | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400 | „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Sutton | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600 | „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Phenix | 80 | 480 | 4 | 320 | „ | 10 0 0 | 252 0 - Elsden | 50 | 300 | 4 | 200 | „ | 6 5 0 | 157 10 - Fuller | 200 | 1200 | 4 | 800 | „ | 25 0 0 | 630 0 - Heath | 200 | 1200 | 4 | 800 | „ | 25 0 0 | 630 0 - Beach | 80 | 480 | 4 | 320 | „ | 10 0 0 | 252 0 - Jones | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400 | „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Gilbert | 250 | 1500 | 4 | 1000 | „ | 31 5 0 | 787 10 - Green | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400 | „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - King | 250 | 1500 | 4 | 1000 | „ | 31 5 0 | 787 10 - Parker | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600 | „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Kelsey | 200 | 1200 | 4 | 800 | „ | 25 0 0 | 630 0 - Palmer | 250 | 1500 | 4 | 1000 | „ | 31 5 0 | 787 10 - Sinclair | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400 | „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Peck | 200 | 1200 | 4 | 800 | „ | 25 0 0 | 630 0 - Young | 50 | 300 | 4 | 200 | „ | 6 5 0 | 157 10 - Winter | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400 | „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Wolfe | 90 | 540 | 4 | 360 | „ | 11 5 0 | 283 10 - Taber | 50 | 300 | 4 | 200 | „ | 6 5 0 | 157 10 - Kellow | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400 | „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Mercer | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600 | „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Oswell | 250 | 1500 | 4 | 1000 | „ | 31 5 0 | 787 10 - Mallett | 90 | 540 | 4 | 360 | „ | 11 5 0 | 283 10 - Handley | 180 | 1080 | 4 | 720 | „ | 22 10 0 | 567 0 - Bull | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600 | „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Atkinson | 200 | 1200 | 4 | 800 | „ | 25 0 0 | 630 0 - Dennis | 250 | 1500 | 4 | 1000 | „ | 31 5 0 | 787 10 - Fordham | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400 | „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Wigmore | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600 | „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Ricketts | 300 | 1800 | 4 | 1200| „ | 37 10 0 | 945 0 - Linnegar | 250 | 1500 | 4 | 1000| „ | 31 5 0 | 787 10 - Price | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400| „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - James | 300 | 1800 | 4 | 1200| „ | 37 10 0 | 945 0 - Wills | 180 | 1080 | 4 | 720| „ | 22 10 0 | 567 0 - Templar | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400| „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Tolley | 50 | 300 | 4 | 200| „ | 6 5 0 | 157 10 - Smallman | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400| „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Macey | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600| „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Livermore | 250 | 1500 | 4 | 1000| „ | 31 5 0 | 787 10 - Oakham | 250 | 1500 | 4 | 1000| „ | 31 5 0 | 787 10 - Rudd | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400| „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Kerridge | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600| „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Perrin | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600| „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Thomas | 300 | 1800 | 4 | 1200| „ | 37 10 0 | 945 0 - Moore | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600| „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Reeves | 200 | 1200 | 4 | 800| „ | 25 0 0 | 630 0 - Pearson | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400| „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Stollery | 50 | 300 | 4 | 200| „ | 6 5 0 | 157 10 - Connew | 250 | 1500 | 4 | 1000| „ | 31 5 0 | 787 10 - Floyd | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400| „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Girling | 300 | 1800 | 4 | 1200| „ | 37 10 0 | 945 0 - Gilbert | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600| „ | 18 15 0 | 742 10 - Carter | 250 | 1500 | 4 | 1000| „ | 31 5 0 | 787 10 - Clayden | 200 | 1200 | 4 | 800| „ | 25 0 0 | 630 0 - Bibbing | 50 | 300 | 4 | 200| „ | 6 5 0 | 157 10 - Dunn | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400| „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Howell | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400| „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Fursey | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400| „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Archer | 250 | 1500 | 4 | 1000| „ | 31 5 0 | 787 10 - Hart | 300 | 1800 | 4 | 1200| „ | 37 10 0 | 945 0 - Cole | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400| „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Essex | 250 | 1500 | 4 | 1000| „ | 31 5 0 | 787 10 - Hinton | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400| „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Wiseman | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600| „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Tepner | 200 | 1200 | 4 | 800| „ | 25 0 0 | 630 0 - Unwin | 250 | 1500 | 4 | 1000| „ | 31 5 0 | 787 10 - Treharne | 300 | 1800 | 4 | 1200| „ | 37 10 0 | 945 0 - Havenny | 50 | 300 | 4 | 200| „ | 6 5 0 | 157 10 - Williams | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400| „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Plant | 200 | 1200 | 4 | 800| „ | 25 0 0 | 630 0 - Linfield | 250 | 1500 | 4 | 1000| „ | 31 5 0 | 787 10 - Morris | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600| „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Jenkins | 300 | 1800 | 4 | 1200| „ | 37 10 0 | 945 0 - Buck | 200 | 1200 | 4 | 800| „ | 25 0 0 | 630 0 - Hadnutt | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600| „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Cuming | 200 | 1200 | 4 | 800| „ | 25 0 0 | 630 0 - Douglas | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400| „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Hogden | 300 | 1800 | 4 | 1200| „ | 37 10 0 | 945 0 - M’Currey | 300 | 1800 | 4 | 1200| „ | 37 10 0 | 945 0 - Warne | 50 | 300 | 4 | 200| „ | 6 5 0 | 157 10 - Whitechurch| 200 | 1200 | 4 | 800| „ | 25 0 0 | 630 0 - Stevenson | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600| „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Izard | 300 | 1800 | 4 | 1200| „ | 37 10 0 | 945 0 - Jones | 250 | 1500 | 4 | 1000| „ | 31 5 0 | 787 10 - Rutley | 100 | 600 | 4 | 400| „ | 12 10 0 | 315 0 - Prichard | 200 | 1200 | 4 | 800| „ | 25 0 0 | 630 0 - Watts | 250 | 1500 | 4 | 1000| „ | 31 5 0 | 787 10 - Woodcock | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600| „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Osborn | 300 | 1800 | 4 | 1200| „ | 37 10 0 | 945 0 - Morland | 250 | 1500 | 4 | 1000| „ | 31 5 0 | 787 10 - Brown | 300 | 1800 | 4 | 1200| „ | 37 10 0 | 945 0 - Hughes | 150 | 900 | 4 | 600| „ | 18 15 0 | 472 10 - Total for +-------+------+---+------+---------+----------+-------- - Master- | - Bricklayers| - engaged as | - Nightmen |19,880|99,400 | 4 |59,520| 5_s._ |£2,485 0 |£52,185 0 - - -SUMMARY OF THE ABOVE TABLE. - - ------------------------+-----+-------------------------------------------------------------- - |Number of Masters employed as Nightmen. - | |-------+------------------------------------------------------ - | | Number of Cesspools emptied during the year. - | | +------------------------------------------------------ - | | |Quantity of Night soil collected annually. - | | | +--------------------------------------------- - | | | |Number of working Nightmen employed to - | | | |each Cesspool. - | | | | +------------------------------------- - MASTER-SWEEPS EMPLOYED | | | | |Sum per load paid to each operative - AS NIGHTMEN IN | | | | | Nightman engaged in removing soil - | | | | |from Cesspools. - | | | | | +----------------------- - | | | | | |Total amount - | | | | | |paid to Master-Nightmen - | | | | | |during the Year for - | | | | | |emptying Cesspools. - ------------------------+-----+-------+--------+-------+-------------+----------------------- - | | | Loads. | | Pence. | £ _s._ _d._ - Kensington | 4 | 48 | 240 | 3 & 4 | 6 & 7 | 120 0 0 - Chelsea | 8 | 140 | 700 | 3 & 4 | 6 & 7 | 350 0 0 - Westminster | 9 | 180 | 900 | 3 | 6 | 450 0 0 - St. Martin’s | 4 | 34 | 170 | 3 | 6 | 85 0 0 - Marylebone | 9 | 155 | 775 | 3 & 4 | 6 & 7 | 387 10 0 - Paddington | 8 | 107 | 535 | 3 | 6 | 267 10 0 - Hampstead | 2 | 16 | 80 | 3 | 6 | 40 0 0 - Islington | 4 | 82 | 410 | 3 | 6 | 205 0 0 - St. Pancras | 13 | 226 | 1,130 | 3 & 4 | 6 & 7 | 565 0 0 - Hackney | 5 | 89 | 445 | 3 & 4 | 6 & 7 | 222 10 0 - St. Giles’s and St. | | | | | | - George’s, Bloomsbury | 11 | 172 | 860 | 3 & 4 | 6 & 7 | 430 0 0 - Strand | 4 | 30 | 150 | 3 | 6 | 75 0 0 - Holborn | 4 | 74 | 370 | 3 & 4 | 6 & 7 | 185 0 0 - Clerkenwell | 5 | 78 | 390 | 3 & 4 | 6 & 7 | 195 0 0 - St. Luke’s | 5 | 68 | 340 | 3 & 4 | 6 & 7 | 170 0 0 - East London | 6 | 92 | 460 | 3 & 4 | 6 & 7 | 230 0 0 - West London | 4 | 64 | 320 | 3 & 4 | 6 & 7 | 160 0 0 - London, City | 5 | 88 | 440 | 3 & 4 | 6 & 7 | 220 0 0 - Shoreditch | 7 | 95 | 475 | 3 & 4 | 6 | 237 10 0 - Bethnal-green | 5 | 68 | 340 | 3 & 4 | 6 | 170 0 0 - Whitechapel | 5 | 66 | 330 | 3 | 6 | 165 0 0 - St. George’s-in-the-East| 8 | 152 | 760 | 3 & 4 | 6 | 380 0 0 - Stepney | 6 | 80 | 400 | 3 | 6 | 200 0 0 - Poplar | 4 | 48 | 240 | 3 | 6 | 120 0 0 - St. Olave’s, St. | | | | | | - Saviour’s, and St. | | | | | | - George’s, Southwark | 16 | 157 | 785 | 3 | 6 | 392 10 0 - Bermondsey | 6 | 60 | 300 | 3 | 6 | 150 0 0 - Walworth and Newington | 8 | 71 | 355 | 3 | 6 | 177 10 0 - Lambeth | 10 | 91 | 455 | 3 & 4 | 6 & 7 | 227 10 0 - Christchurch, Lambeth | 6 | 58 | 290 | 3 | 6 | 145 0 0 - Wandsworth and Battersea| 5 | 43 | 215 | 3 | 6 | 107 10 0 - Rotherhithe | 5 | 54 | 270 | 3 & 4 | 6 | 135 0 0 - Greenwich and Deptford | 5 | 94 | 470 | 3 & 4 | 6 & 7 | 235 0 0 - Woolwich | 6 | 82 | 410 | 3 & 4 | 6 | 205 0 0 - Lewisham | 2 | 30 | 150 | 3 & 4 | 6 | 75 0 0 - Total for Sweeps |-----+-------+--------+-------+-------------+----------------------- - employed as Nightmen | 214 | 2,992 | 14,960 | 3 & 4 | 6 & 7 | 7,480 0 0 - Total for Dust and other| | | | | | - Contractors employed | | | | | | - as Nightmen | 188 |27,820 |139,600 | 4 | 8 | 72,027 0 0 - Total for Bricklayers | | | | | | - employed as Nightmen | 119 |19,880 | 99,400 | 4 |5_s._ a night| 52,185 0 0 - |-----+-------+--------+-------+-------------+----------------------- - Gross Total | 521 |50,692 |253,960 | 3 & 4 |6_d._ 7_d._ &|131,692 10 0 - | | | | |8_d._ per 1d.| - | | | | |& 5_s._ per | - | | | | |night. | - - -A TABLE SHOWING THE QUANTITY OF REFUSE BOUGHT, COLLECTED, OR FOUND, IN -THE STREETS OF LONDON. - - ----------------+---------------+-------------------------------- - Articles bought | Annual | Average Number of Buyers, - collected, | gross | and quantity sold - or found. | quantity. | Daily or Weekly. - ----------------+---------------+-------------------------------- - REFUSE METAL. | | - Copper | 291,600 lbs. |200 buyers 1/4 cwt. each weekly - Brass | 291,600 „ |200 do. 1/4 „ do. - Iron |2,329,600 „ |200 do. 2 „ do. - Steel | 62,400 „ |200 do. 6 lbs. do. - Lead |1,164,800 „ |200 do. 1 cwt. do. - Pewter | 291,600 „ |200 do. 1/4 „ do. - | | - HORSE & | | - CARRIAGE | | - FURNITURE. | | - Carriages | 120 „ | 4 do. 30 sets yearly - Wheels (4, | | - from coach- | | - builders) | 600 sets |100 do. 8 do. - Wheels, | | - in pairs | | - for carts | | - & trucks | 600 pairs| 50 do. 12 pairs yearly - Springs | | - for trucks and | | - small carts | 780 „ | 5 do. 3 „ weekly - Lace, from | | - coach-builders | 1,344 lbs. | 12 do. 112 lbs. yearly - Fringe and | | - tassels, | | - from ditto | 2,688 „ | 12 do. 224 „ do. - Coach & | | - carriage | | - linings, | | - singly | 156 | 12 do. 13 yearly - Harness | | - (carriage | | - pairs) | 60 pairs| 10 do. 6 pairs do. - Ditto | | - (single sets) | 144 sets | 12 do. 12 sets do. - Ditto | | - (sets of donkey| | - and pony) | 41,600 „ |100 do. 8 sets weekly - Saddles | 1,040 „ | 10 do. 2 „ do. - Collars | 2,080 „ | 10 do. 4 „ do. - Bridles | 4,160 „ | 10 do. 6 „ do. - Pads | 2,080 „ | 10 do. 4 „ do. - Bits | 4,160 „ | 10 do. 3 „ do. - Leather (new | | - cuttings from | | - coach-builders)| 58,136 lbs. | 24 do. 22 cwt. yearly - Ditto (morocco | | - cuttings from | | - do.) | 960 „ | 20 do. 48 „ do. - Old leather | | - (waste from | | - ditto) | 53,760 „ | 12 do. 20 „ do. - | | - REFUSE LINEN, | | - COTTON, &C. | | - Rags (woollen, | | - consisting of | | - tailors’ | | - shreds, old | | - flannel | | - drugget, | | - carpet, and | | - moreen) |4,659,200 lbs. |200 do. 4 „ weekly - Ditto (coloured | | - cotton) |2,912,000 „ |200 do. 2-1/2 „ do. - Ditto (white) |1,164,800 „ |200 do. 1 „ do. - Canvas | 44,800 „ |200 do. 2 „ yearly - Rope and sacking| 291,200 „ |200 do. 1/4 „ weekly - | | - PAPER. | | - Waste paper |1,397,760 „ | 60 colls. each disposing - | | of 4 cwt. weekly - GLASS AND | | - CROCKERYWARE. | | - Bottles (common | | - and doctors’) | 62,400 doz. |200 buyers, 24 weekly - Ditto (wine) | 31,200 „ |200 do. 12 do. - Ditto (porter | | - and stout) | 4,800 „ |200 do. 24 dozen yearly - Flint glass | 15,600 lbs. |200 do. 1-1/2 lbs. weekly - Pickling jars | 7,200 „ |200 do. 36 yearly - Gallipots | 20,800 doz. |200 do. 24 weekly - - -----------+---------------+------------+------------------------ - Obtained of| Price per | Average | Parties - the Street| pound | Yearly | to - Buyers. | weight, &c. |Money Value.| whom sold. - -----------+---------------+------------+------------------------ - | | £ _s. d._| - 1-500th | 6_d._ per lb. | 7,290 0 0 |Sold to brass-founders - | | | and pewterers. - „ | 4_d._ „ | 4,860 6 8 | Do. do. - 1-200th |1/4_d._ „ | 2,246 13 4 |Do. to iron-founders - | | | and manufacturers. - none | 1_d._ „ | 260 0 0 |Do. to manufacturers. - 1-500th |1-1/2_d._ „ | 7,280 0 0 |Do. to brass-founders - | | | and pewterers. - „ | 5_d._ „ | 6,075 13 4 | Do. do. - | |----------- | - | |28,182 13 4 | - | |=========== | - none | 11l. each | 1,320 0 0 |Sold to Jew dealers. - „ | 25s. a set | 750 0 0 |Do. to costers and - | | | small tradesmen. - „ | 7s. a pair | 210 0 0 | Do. do. - „ | 6s. per pair | 234 0 0 |Do. to costers - | | | and others. - „ | 1_d._ per lb. | 5 12 0 |Do. to cab-masters - | | | and to Jews. - „ |1/2_d._ „ | 5 12 0 |Do. to Jews. - „ | 25s. each | 195 0 0 |Do. to cab-masters. - „ | 3l. per pair | 180 0 0 |Do. to omnibus - | | | proprietors. - „ | 30s. per set | 216 0 0 |Do. to cab-masters. - harness- | 4s. a set | 8,320 0 0 |Do. to little master - makers | | | harness-makers. - none | 4s. „ | 203 0 0 | Do. do. - „ | 9_d._ „ | 78 0 0 | Do. do. and - | | | marine stores. - „ | 9_d._ „ | 138 13 4 | Do. do. do. - „ | 6_d._ „ | 52 0 0 | Do. do. - „ | 2_d._ „ | 34 13 4 | Do. do. do. - „ | 4_d._ „ | 985 12 0 |Do. to Jews and also - | | | to gunsmiths. - „ |1s. 6_d._ „ | 72 0 0 |Do. to tailors’ - | | | trimming-sellers. - „ |2-1/2_d._ „ | 560 0 0 |Do. to Jews. - | |----------- | - | |13,560 2 8 | - | |=========== | - 1-1000th |1/2_d._ per lb.| 9,706 13 4 |Sold for manure and to - | | | nail up fruit-trees. - 1-500th |1/2_d._ „ | 6,066 13 4 |Do. to paper-makers - | | | and for quilts. - 1-1000th | 2_d._ „ | 9,706 13 4 |Do. to paper-makers. - none | 1_d._ „ | 186 13 4 |Do. to chance customers. - 1-500th |1/2_d._ „ | 606 13 4 |Do. for oakum and sacking - | | | to mend old sacks. - | |----------- | - | |36,898 13 4 | - | |=========== | - all | 18s. per cwt. |11,232 0 0 |Do. to shopkeepers. - 1-100th | 2_d._ per doz.| 520 0 0 |Do. to doctors - | | | and chemists. - 1-200th | 6_d._ „ | 780 0 0 |Do. to Brit. wine - | | | merchants & ale stores. - none | 6_d._ „ | 120 0 0 |Do. to ale and - | | | porter stores. - 1-1000th |1/4_d._ per lb.| 16 5 0 |Do. to glass - | | | manufacturers. - none |3/4_d._ each | 22 10 0 |Do. to Italian - | | | warehouses, &c. - „ | 2_d._ per doz.| 173 6 8 | Do. do. - | |----------- | - | | 1,632 1 8 | - | |=========== | - - - REFUSE APPAREL. | | - Coats | 624,000 |300 colls. each purchasing 8 coats - | | daily - Trousers | 312,000 pairs |300 do. do. 4 pr. trousers do. - Waistcoats | 312,000 |300 do. do. 3 waistcoats do. - Under-waistcoats| 46,800 |300 do. do. 3 weekly - Breeches and | | - gaiters | 15,600 pairs |300 do. do. 1 pair weekly - Dressing-gowns | 3,000 |100 do. do. 30 yearly - Cloaks (men’s) | 1,000 |100 do. do. 10 cloaks yearly - Boots and shoes |1,560,000 pairs |100 do. do. 60 pairs daily - | | - Boot and shoe | | - soles | 648,000 dz. pr|100 do. each collecting 30 dz. pr. - | |daily - | | - Boot legs | 520,000 „ „ |200 do. do. 50 „ weekly - Hats |1,879,000 |300 colls. each purchasing 24 hats daily - Boys’ suits | 3,600 |300 do. do. 12 suits yearly - Shirts and | | - chemises | 626,400 |300 do. do. 8 daily - Stockings of | | - all kinds | 783,000 pairs |100 do. do. 30 pair daily - Drawers (men’s | | - and women’s) | 93,600 „ |300 do. do. 6 „ weekly - Women’s dresses | | - of all kinds | 496,800 |300 do. do. 6 dresses daily - Petticoats | 939,600 |300 do. do. 12 daily - Women’s stays | 261,000 pairs |100 do. do. 10 pair do. - Children’s | | - shirts | 187,920 | 60 do. do. 12 daily - Ditto petticoats| 261,000 |200 do. do. 5 do. - Ditto frocks | 522,000 |200 do. do. 10 do. - Cloaks | | - (women’s), | | - capes, | | - visites, &c. | 5,200 | 20 do. do. 5 cloaks weekly - Bonnets |1,409,400 |150 do. do. 3 doz. daily - Shawls of all | | - kinds | 469,800 |300 do. do. 6 daily - Fur boas and | | - victorines | 261,000 |100 do. do. 10 do. - Fur tippets and | | - muffs | 130,500 |100 do. do. 5 do. - Umbrella and | | - parasol frames | 518,400 |200 do., each collecting 12 daily - | | - | | - | | - HOUSEHOLD | | - REFUSE. | | - Tea-leaves | 78,000 lbs. | ... ... ... ... - Fish-skins | 3,900 „ | 25 do. do. 2 lbs. weekly for - | | 6 months. - Hare-skins | 80,000 | 50 do. do. 50 weekly - Kitchen-stuff | 62,400 lbs. |200 do. do. 6 lbs. weekly - Dripping | 52,000 „ |200 do. do. 5 „ do. - Bones |3,494,400 „ |200 buyers 3 cwt. weekly - Hogwash |2,504,000 gals. |200 do., each purchasing 40 gal. daily - Dust (from | | - houses) | 900,000 loads | ... ... ... ... - Soot | 800,000 bush. |800 colls. each collectg. 19 bush. weekly - Soil (from | | - cesspools) | 750,000 loads | ... ... ... ... - | | - | | - | | - STREET REFUSE. | | - Street sweepings| | - (scavengers’) | 140,983 „ |444 do. the whole „ 452 lds. daily - Ditto (street | | - orderlies’) | 2,817 „ |546 do. do. „ 9 „ do. - Coal and coke | | - (mudlarks’) | 64,656 cwt. |550 do., each collecting 42 lbs. do. - “Pure” | 52,000 pails |200 do. do. 5 pails weekly - Cigar ends | 2,240 lbs. | 50 do. do. 8-1/2 lbs. do. - - bt. of old clo’men|6_s._ each | 187,200 0 0|Sold to old clo’men - | | | and wholesale dealers. - „ |3_s._ 3_d._ per| | - | pr. | 50,700 0 0| Do. do. - „ |7_d._ each | 9,100 0 0| Do. do. - „ |2_d._ „ | 390 0 0|Do. to wholesale and - | | | wardrobe dealers. - | | | - „ |2_s._ per pair | 1,560 0 0|Do. to old clo’men - | | | and wholesale dealers. - „ |4_s._ 2_d._ | 625 0 0|Do. to wholesale - | each | | and wardrobe dealers. - „ |10_s._ „ | 500 0 0|Do. to wholesale dealers. - „ |7_d._ per pair | 45,500 0 0|Do. to wardrobe dealers - | | | and second-hand - | | | boot and shoe makers. - | | | - | | | - none |1_s._ per dz. | 32,400 0 0|Do. to Jews and gunsmiths - | pr. | | to temper gun-barrels. - „ |5_s._ „ | 130,000 0 0|Do. to translators. - bt. of old clo’men|4_d._ each | 31,200 0 0|Do. to dealers and - | | | master hatters. - „ |3_s._ a suit | 540 0 0|Do. Jew dealers. - | | | - „ |4_d._ each | 10,400 0 0|Do. to old clo’men - | | | and wholesale dealers. - | | | - „ |1_d._ per pair | 3,272 10 0|Do. to wholesale - | | | and wardrobe dealers. - | | | - „ |3_d._ „ | 1,170 0 0| Do. do. - | | | - „ |1_s._ 9_d._ | | - | each | 41,107 10 0| Do. do. - „ |7_d._ „ | 27,405 0 0| Do. do. - „ |5_d._ per pair | 5,437 10 0| Do. do. - | | | - „ |3_d._ a doz. | 195 15 0| Do. do. - „ |1-1/2_d._ each | 1,639 11 8| Do. do. - „ |4_d._ „ | 8,700 0 0| Do. do. - | | | - | | | - | | | - „ |4_s._ „ | 1,040 0 0|Do. to wholesale dealers. - „ |6_d._ „ | 35,235 0 0| Do. do. - | | | - „ |1_s._ 2_d._ „ | 27,405 0 0|Do. to wholesale - | | | and wardrobe dealers. - | | | - „ |1_s._ 2_d._ „ | 15,220 0 0| Do. do. - | | | - „ |1_s._ 2_d._ „ | 7,612 10 0| Do. do. - | | | - all |5_d._ „ | 10,300 0 0|Do. to Jews and old - | | | umbrella menders. - | +--------------+ - | | 675,555 6 8| - | +==============+ - | | | - | | | - „ |2-1/2_d._ per | 812 10 0|Do. to merchants to - | lb. | | re-make into tea. - costers and |1_d._ „ | |Do. to brewers to fine - | | | their ale. - fishmongers | | 16 5 0| - all |1_s._ a doz. | 333 6 8|Do. to Jews, hatters, - | | | and furriers. - none |1-1/2_d._ per | | - | lb. | 390 0 0|Do. at marine stores. - „ |3_d._ „ | 650 0 0| Do. do. - 1-1000th |1/4_d._ „ | 105,625 0 0|Do. for manure, - | | | knife-handles, &c. - all |1_d._ per | | - | gallon | 10,433 6 8|Do. to pig-dealers. - | | | - none |2_s._ 6_d._ per| 112,500 0 0|Do. for manure and - | ld. | | to brickmakers. - „ |5_d._ per | 16,666 13 4|Do. to farmers, - | bushel | | graziers, and - | | | gardeners. - | | | - „ |10_s._ per load| 375,000 0 0|Do. for manure. - | +--------------+ - | | 622,427 1 8| - | +==============+ - | | | - | | | - „ |3_s._ „ | 21,147 9 0| Do. do. - | | | - „ |2_s._ 6_d._ „ | 2,352 2 6| Do. do. - | | | - „ |8_d._ per cwt. | 2,151 17 4|Do. to the poor. - „ |1_s._ per pail | 2,600 0 0|Do. to tanners and - | | | leather-dressers. - street-finders |8_d._ per lb. | 74 13 4|Do. to Jews in - | | | Rosemary-lane. - | +==============+ - | | 28,326 2 2| - | +--------------+ - |Gross Total |1,406,592 1 6| - -Curious and ample as this Table of Refuse is--one, moreover, perfectly -original--it is not sufficient, by the mere range of figures, to -convey to the mind of the reader a full comprehension of the ramified -vastness of the Second-Hand trade of the metropolis. Indeed tables are -for reference more than for the current information to be yielded by a -history or a narrative. - -I will, therefore, offer a few explanations in elucidation, as it were, -of the tabular return. - -I must, as indeed I have done in the accompanying remarks, depart -from the order of the details of the table to point out, in the -first instance, the particulars of the greatest of the Second-Hand -trades--that in Clothing. In this table the reader will find included -every indispensable article of man’s, woman’s, and child’s apparel, -as well as those articles which add to the ornament or comfort of the -person of the wearer; such as boas and victorines for the use of one -sex, and dressing-gowns for the use of the other. The articles used to -protect us from the rain, or the too-powerful rays of the sun, are also -included--umbrellas and parasols. The whole of these articles exceed, -when taken in round numbers, twelve millions and a quarter, and that -reckoning the “pairs,” as in boots and shoes, &c., as but one article. -This, still pursuing the round-number system, would supply nearly -_five_ articles of refuse apparel to every man, woman, and child in -this, the greatest metropolis of the world. - -I will put this matter in another light. There are about 35,000 Jews in -England, nearly half of whom reside in the metropolis. 12,000, it is -further stated on good authority, reside within the City of London. Now -at one time the trade in old clothes was almost entirely in the hands -of the City Jews, the others prosecuting the same calling in different -parts of London having been “Wardrobe Dealers,” chiefly women, (who -had not unfrequently been the servants of the aristocracy); and even -these wardrobe dealers sold much that was worn, and (as one old -clothes-dealer told me) much that was “not, for their fine customers, -because the fashion had gone by,” to the “Old Clo” Jews, or to those -to whom the street-buyers carried their stock, and who were able to -purchase on a larger scale than the general itinerants. Now, supposing -that even one twelfth of these 12,000 Israelites were engaged in the -old-clothes trade (which is far beyond the mark), each man would have -_twelve hundred and twenty-five_ articles to dispose of yearly, all -second-hand! - -Perhaps the most curious trade is that in waste paper, or as it -is called by the street collectors, in “waste,” comprising every -kind of used or useless periodical, and books in all tongues. I may -call the attention of my readers, by way of illustrating the extent -of this business in what is proverbially refuse “waste paper,” to -their experience of the penny postage. Three or four sheets of note -paper, according to the stouter or thinner texture, and an envelope -with a seal or a glutinous and stamped fastening, will not exceed -half-an-ounce, and is conveyed to the Orkneys and the further isles of -Shetland, the Hebrides, the Scilly and Channel Islands, the isles of -Achill and Cape Clear, off the western and southern coasts of Ireland, -or indeed to and from the most extreme points of the United Kingdom, -and no matter what distance, provided the letter be posted within -the United Kingdom, for a penny. The weight of waste or refuse paper -annually disposed of to the street collectors, or rather buyers, is -1,397,760 lbs. Were this tonnage, as I may call it, for it comprises -12,480 tons yearly, to be distributed in half-ounce letters, it would -supply material, as respects weight, for _forty-four millions, seven -hundred and twenty-eight thousand, four hundred and thirty_ letters on -business, love, or friendship. - -I will next direct attention to what may be, by perhaps not -over-straining a figure of speech, called “the crumbs which fall from -the rich man’s table;” or, according to the quality of the commodity of -refuse, of the tables of the _comparatively_ rich, and that down to a -low degree of the scale. These are not, however, unappropriated crumbs, -to be swept away uncared for; but are objects of keen traffic and -bargains between the possessors or their servants and the indefatigable -street-folk. Among them are such things as champagne and other wine -bottles, porter and ale bottles, and, including the establishments -of all the rich and the comparative rich, kitchen-stuff, dripping, -hog-wash, hare-skins, and tea-leaves. Lastly come the very lowest -grades of the street-folk--the _finders_; men who will quarrel, and -have been seen to quarrel, with a hungry cur for a street-found bone; -not to pick or gnaw, although Eugène Sue has seen that done in Paris; -and I once, very early on a summer’s morning, saw some apparently -houseless Irish children contend with a dog and with each other for -bones thrown out of a house in King William-street, City--as if after -a very late supper--not to pick or gnaw, I was saying, but to _sell_ -for manure. Some of these finders have “seen better days;” others, -in intellect, are little elevated above the animals whose bones they -gather, or whose ordure (“pure”), they scrape into their baskets. - -I do not know that the other articles in the arrangement of the table -of street refuse, &c., require any further comment. Broken metal, -&c., can only be disposed of according to its quality or weight, -and I have lately shown the extent of the trade in such refuse as -street-sweepings, soot and night-soil. - -The gross total, or average yearly money value, is 1,406,592_l._ for -the second-hand commodities I have described in the foregoing pages; -or as something like a minimum is given, both as to the number of the -goods and the price, we may fairly put this total at a million and a -half of pounds sterling! - - - - -CROSSING-SWEEPERS. - -That portion of the London street-folk who earn a scanty living by -sweeping crossings constitute a large class of the Metropolitan poor. -We can scarcely walk along a street of any extent, or pass through a -square of the least pretensions to “gentility,” without meeting one or -more of these private scavengers. Crossing-sweeping seems to be one of -those occupations which are resorted to as an excuse for begging; and, -indeed, as many expressed it to me, “it was the last chance left of -obtaining an honest crust.” - -The advantages of crossing-sweeping as a means of livelihood seem to be: - -1st, the smallness of the capital required in order to commence the -business; - -2ndly, the excuse the apparent occupation it affords for soliciting -gratuities without being considered in the light of a street-beggar; - -And 3rdly, the benefits arising from being constantly seen in the same -place, and thus exciting the sympathy of the neighbouring householders, -till small weekly allowances or “pensions” are obtained. - -The first curious point in connexion with this subject is what -constitutes the “_property_,” so to speak, in a crossing, or the -_right_ to sweep a pathway across a certain thoroughfare. A nobleman, -who has been one of her Majesty’s Ministers, whilst conversing with me -on the subject of crossing-sweepers, expressed to me the curiosity he -felt on the subject, saying that he had noticed some of the sweepers in -the same place for years. “What were the rights of property,” he asked, -“in such cases, and what constituted the title that such a man had to -a particular crossing? Why did not the stronger sweeper supplant the -weaker? Could a man bequeath a crossing to a son, or present it to a -friend? How did he first obtain the spot?” - -The answer is, that crossing-sweepers are, in a measure, under the -protection of the police. If the accommodation afforded by a well-swept -pathway is evident, the policeman on that district will protect the -original sweeper of the crossing from the intrusion of a rival. I have, -indeed, met with instances of men who, before taking to a crossing, -have asked for and obtained permission of the police; and one sweeper, -who gave me his statement, had even solicited the authority of the -inhabitants before he applied to the inspector at the station-house. - -If a crossing have been vacant for some time, another sweeper may take -to it; but should the original proprietor again make his appearance, -the officer on duty will generally re-establish him. One man to whom I -spoke, had fixed himself on a crossing which for years another sweeper -had kept clean on the Sunday morning only. A dispute ensued; the one -claimant pleading his long Sabbath possession, and the other his -continuous every-day service. The quarrel was referred to the police, -who decided that he who was oftener on the ground was the rightful -owner; and the option was given to the former possessor, that if he -would sweep there every day the crossing should be his. - -I believe there is only one crossing in London which is in the gift -of a householder, and this proprietorship originated in a tradesman -having, at his own expense, caused a paved footway to be laid down over -the Macadamized road in front of his shop, so that his customers might -run less chance of dirtying their boots when they crossed over to give -their orders. - -Some bankers, however, keep a crossing-sweeper, not only to sweep a -clean path for the “clients” visiting their house, but to open and shut -the doors of the carriages calling at the house. - -Concerning the _causes which lead or drive_ people to this occupation, -they are various. People take to crossing-sweeping either on account -of their bodily afflictions, depriving them of the power of performing -ruder work, or because the occupation is the last resource left open -to them of earning a living, and they considered even the scanty -subsistence it yields preferable to that of the workhouse. The greater -proportion of crossing-sweepers are those who, from some bodily -infirmity or injury, are prevented from a more laborious mode of -obtaining their living. Among the bodily infirmities the chief are old -age, asthma, and rheumatism; and the injuries mostly consist of loss of -limbs. Many of the rheumatic sweepers have been bricklayers’ labourers. - -The classification of crossing-sweepers is not very complex. They may -be divided into the _casual_ and the _regular_. - -By the casual I mean such as pursue the occupation only on certain days -in the week, as, for instance, those who make their appearance on the -Sunday morning, as well as the boys who, broom in hand, travel about -the streets, sweeping before the foot-passengers or stopping an hour at -one place, and then, if not fortunate, moving on to another. - -The regular crossing-sweepers are those who have taken up their posts -at the corners of streets or squares; and I have met with some who -have kept to the same spot for more than forty years. - -The crossing-sweepers in the squares may be reckoned among the most -fortunate of the class. With them the crossing is a kind of stand, -where any one requiring their services knows they may be found. -These sweepers are often employed by the butlers and servants in -the neighbouring mansions for running errands, posting letters, and -occasionally helping in the packing-up and removal of furniture or -boxes when the family goes out of town. I have met with other sweepers -who, from being known for years to the inhabitants, have at last got -to be regularly employed at some of the houses to clean knives, boots, -windows, &c. - -It is not at all an unfrequent circumstance, however, for a sweeper -to be in receipt of a weekly sum from some of the inhabitants in the -district. The crossing itself is in these cases but of little value -for chance customers, for were it not for the regular charity of the -householders, it would be deserted. Broken victuals and old clothes -also form part of a sweeper’s means of living; nor are the clothes -always old ones, for one or two of this class have for years been in -the habit of having new suits presented to them by the neighbours at -Christmas. - -The irregular sweepers mostly consist of boys and girls who have -formed themselves into a kind of company, and come to an agreement to -work together on the same crossings. The principal resort of these is -about Trafalgar-square, where they have seized upon some three or four -crossings, which they visit from time to time in the course of the day. - -One of these gangs I found had appointed its king and captain, though -the titles were more honorary than privileged. They had framed their -own laws respecting each one’s right to the money he took, and the -obedience to these laws was enforced by the strength of the little -fraternity. - -One or two girls whom I questioned, told me that they mixed up -ballad-singing or lace-selling with crossing-sweeping, taking to the -broom only when the streets were wet and muddy. These children are -usually sent out by their parents, and have to carry home at night -their earnings. A few of them are orphans with a lodging-house for a -home. - -Taken as a class, crossing-sweepers are among the most honest of the -London poor. They all tell you that, without a good character and “the -respect of the neighbourhood,” there is not a living to be got out of -the broom. Indeed, those whom I found best-to-do in the world were -those who had been longest at their posts. - -Among them are many who have been servants until sickness or accident -deprived them of their situations, and nearly all of them have had -their minds so subdued by affliction, that they have been tamed so as -to be incapable of mischief. - -The _earnings_, or rather “_takings_,” of crossing-sweepers are -difficult to estimate--generally speaking--that is, to strike the -average for the entire class. An erroneous idea prevails that -crossing-sweeping is a lucrative employment. All whom I have spoken -with agree in saying, that some thirty years back it was a good living; -but they bewail piteously the spirit of the present generation. I -have met with some who, in former days, took their 3_l._ weekly; and -there are but few I have spoken to who would not, at one period, have -considered fifteen shillings a bad week’s work. But now “the takings” -are very much reduced. The man who was known to this class as having -been the most prosperous of all--for from one nobleman alone he -received an allowance of seven shillings and sixpence weekly--assured -me that twelve shillings a-week was the average of his present gains, -taking the year round; whilst the majority of the sweepers agree that a -shilling is a good day’s earnings. - -A shilling a-day is the very limit of the average incomes of the -London sweepers, and this is rather an over than an under calculation; -for, although a few of the more fortunate, who are to be found in the -squares or main thoroughfares or opposite the public buildings, may -earn their twelve or fifteen shillings a-week, yet there are hundreds -who are daily to be found in the by-streets of the metropolis who -assert that eightpence a-day is their average taking; and, indeed, in -proof of their poverty, they refer you to the workhouse authorities, -who allow them certain quartern-loaves weekly. The old stories of -delicate suppers and stockings full of money have in the present day no -foundation of truth. - -The black crossing-sweeper, who bequeathed 500_l._ to Miss Waithman, -would almost seem to be the last of the class whose earnings were above -his positive necessities. - -Lastly, concerning the _numbers_ belonging to this large class, we may -add that it is difficult to reckon up the number of crossing-sweepers -in London. There are few squares without a couple of these pathway -scavengers; and in the more respectable squares, such as Cavendish or -Portman, every corner has been seized upon. Again, in the principal -thoroughfares, nearly every street has its crossing and attendant. - - -I.--OF THE ADULT CROSSING-SWEEPERS. - - -_A. The Able-Bodied Sweepers._ - -The elder portion of the London crossing-sweepers admit, as we have -before said, of being arranged, for the sake of perspicuity, into -several classes. I shall begin with the _Able-bodied Males_; then -proceed to the _Females_ of the same class; and afterwards deal with -the _Able-bodied Irish_ (male and female), who take to the London -causeways for a living. This done, I shall then, in due order, take -up the _Afflicted_ or _Crippled_ class; and finally treat of the -_Juveniles_ belonging to the same calling. - - -1. THE ABLE-BODIED MALE CROSSING-SWEEPERS. - -THE “ARISTOCRATIC” CROSSING-SWEEPER. - -“Billy” is the popular name of the man who for many years has swept the -long crossing that cuts off one corner of Cavendish-square, making a -“short cut” from Old Cavendish-street to the Duke of Portland’s mansion. - -Billy is a merry, good-tempered kind of man, with a face as red as a -love-apple, and cheeks streaked with little veins. - -His hair is white, and his eyes are as black and bright as a terrier’s. -He can hardly speak a sentence without finishing it off with a moist -chuckle. - -His clothes have that peculiar look which arises from being often -wet through, but still they are decent, and far above what his class -usually wear. The hat is limp in the brim, from being continually -touched. - -The day when I saw Billy was a wet one, and he had taken refuge from a -shower under the Duke of Portland’s stone gateway. His tweed coat, torn -and darned, was black about the shoulders with the rain-drops, and his -boots grey with mud, but, he told me, “It was no good trying to keep -clean shoes such a day as that, ’cause the blacking come off in the -puddles.” - -Billy is “well up” in the _Court Guide_. He continually stopped in his -statement to tell whom my Lord B. married, or where my Lady C. had gone -to spend the summer, or what was the title of the Marquis So-and-So’s -eldest boy. - -He was very grateful, moreover, to all who had assisted him, and -_would_ stop looking up at the ceiling, and God-blessing them all with -a species of religious fervour. - -His regret that the good old times had passed, when he made “hats full -of money,” was unmistakably sincere; and when he had occasion to allude -to them, he always delivered his opinion upon the late war, calling it -“a-cut-and run affair,” and saying that it was “nothing at all put -alongside with the old war, when the halfpence and silver coin were -twice as big and twenty times more plentiful” than during the late -campaign. - -Without the least hesitation he furnished me with the following -particulars of his life and calling:-- - -“I was born in London, in Cavendish-square, and (he added, laughing) I -ought to have a title, for I first came into the world at No. 3, which -was Lord Bessborough’s then. My mother went there to do her work, for -she chaired there, and she was took sudden and couldn’t go no further. -She couldn’t have chosen a better place, could she? You see I was born -in Cavendish-square, and I’ve _worked_ in Cavendish-square--sweeping a -crossing--for now near upon fifty year. - -“Until I was nineteen--I’m sixty-nine now--I used to sell -water-creases, but they felled off and then I dropped it. Both mother -and myself sold water-creases after my Lord Bessborough died; for -whilst he lived she wouldn’t leave him not for nothing. - -“We used to do uncommon well at one time; there wasn’t nobody about -then as there is now. I’ve sold flowers, too; they was very good then; -they was mostly show carnations and moss roses, and such-like, but no -common flowers--it wouldn’t have done for me to sell common things at -the houses I used to go to. - -“The reason why I took to a crossing was, I had an old father and I -didn’t want him to go to the workus. I didn’t wish too to do anything -bad myself, and I never would--no, sir, for I’ve got as good a -charackter as the first nobleman in the land, and that’s a fine thing, -ain’t it? So as water-creases had fell off till they wasn’t a living to -me, I had to do summat else to help me to live. - -“I saw the crossing-sweepers in Westminster making a deal of money, so -I thought to myself _I’ll_ do that, and I fixed upon Cavendish-square, -because, I said to myself, I’m known there; it’s where I was born, and -there I set to work. - -“The very first day I was at work I took ten shillings. I never asked -nobody; I only bowed my head and put my hand to my hat, and they knowed -what it meant. - -“By jingo, when I took that there I thought to myself, What a fool I’ve -been to stop at water-creases! - -“For the first ten year I did uncommon well. Give me the old-fashioned -way; they were good times then; I like the old-fashioned way. Give -me the old penny pieces, and then the eighteen-penny pieces, and the -three-shilling pieces, and the seven-shilling pieces--give me them, I -says. The day the old halfpence and silver was cried down, that is, the -old coin was called in to change the currency, my hat wouldn’t hold the -old silver and halfpence I was give that afternoon. I had _such_ a -lot, upon my word, they broke my pocket. I didn’t know the money was -altered, but a fishmonger says to me, ‘Have you got any old silver?’ I -said ‘Yes, I’ve got a hat full;’ and then says he, ‘Take ’em down to -Couttseses and change ’em.’ I went, and I was nearly squeeged to death. - -“That was the first time I was like to be killed, but I was nigh killed -again when Queen Caroline passed through Cavendish-square after her -trial. They took the horses out of her carriage and pulled her along. -She kept a chucking money out of the carriage, and I went and scrambled -for it, and I got five-and-twenty shillin, but my hand was a nigh -smashed through it; and, says a friend of mine, before I went, ‘Billy,’ -says he, ‘don’t you go;’ and I was sorry after I did. She was a good -woman, _she_ was. The Yallers, that is, the king’s party, was agin her, -and pulled up the paving-stones when her funeral passed; but the Blues -was for her. - -“I can remember, too, the mob at the time of the Lord Castlereagh -riots. They went to Portman-square and broke all the winders in the -house. They pulled up all the rails to purtect theirselves with. I went -to the Bishop of Durham’s, and hid myself in the coal-cellar then. -My mother chaired there, too. The Bishop of Durham and Lord Harcourt -opened their gates and hurrah’d the mob, so they had nothing of their’s -touched; but whether they did it through fear or not I can’t say. The -mob was carrying a quartern loaf dipped in bullock’s blood, and when I -saw it I thought it was a man’s head; so that frightened me, and I run -off. - -“I remember, too, when Lady Pembroke’s house was burnt to the ground. -That’s about eighteen year ago. It was very lucky the family wasn’t in -town. The housekeeper was a nigh killed, and they had to get her out -over the stables; and when her ladyship heard she was all right, she -said she didn’t care for the fire since the old dame was saved, for she -had lived along with the family for many years. No, bless you, sir! I -didn’t help at the fire; I’m too much of a coward to do that. - -“All the time the Duke of Portland was alive he used to allow me 7_s._ -6_d._ a-week, which was 1_s._ a-day and 1_s._ 6_d._ for Sundays. He was -a little short man, and a very good man he was too, for it warn’t only -me as he gave money to, but to plenty others. He was the best man in -England for that. - -“Lord George Bentinck, too, was a good friend to me. He was a great -racer, he was, and then he turned to be member of parliament, and -then he made a good man they tell me; but he never comed over my -crossing without giving me something. He was at the corner of Holly -Street, he was, and he never put foot on my crossing without giving -me a sovereign. Perhaps he wouldn’t cross more than once or twice a -month, but when he comed my way _that_ was his money. Ah! he was a nice -feller, he was. When he give it he always put it in my hand and never -let nobody see it, and that’s the way I like to have _my_ fee give me. - -“There’s Mrs. D----, too, as lived at No. 6; she was a good friend of -mine, and always allowed me a suit of clothes a-year; but she’s dead, -good lady, now. - -“Dr. C---- and his lady, they, likewise, was very kind friends of mine, -and gave me every year clothes, and new shoes, and blankets, aye, and -a bed, too, if I had wanted it; but now they are all dead, down to the -coachman. The doctor’s old butler, Mr. K----, he gave me twenty-five -shillings the day of the funeral, and, says he, ‘Bill, I’m afraid this -will be the last.’ Poor good friends they was all of them, and I did -feel cut up when I see the hearse going off. - -“There was another gentleman, Mr. W. T----, who lives in Harley-street; -he never come by me without giving me half-a-crown. He was a real good -gentleman; but I haven’t seen him for a long time now, and perhaps he’s -dead too. - -“All my friends is dropping off. I’m fifty-five, and they was men when -I was a boy. All the good gentlemen’s gone, only the bad ones stop. - -“Another friend of mine is Lord B----. He always drops me a shilling -when he come by; and, says he, ‘You don’t know me, but I knows you, -Billy.’ But I _do_ know him, for my mother worked for the family many a -year, and, considering I was born in the house, I think to myself, ‘If -I don’t know you, why I ought.’ He’s a handsome, stout young chap, and -as nice a gentleman as any in the land. - -“One of the best friends I had was Prince E----, as lived there in -Chandos-street, the bottom house yonder. I had five sovereigns give me -the day as he was married to his beautiful wife. Don’t you remember -what a talk there was about her diamonds, sir? They say she was kivered -in ’em. He used to put his hand in his pocket and give me two or three -shillings every time he crossed. He was a gentleman as was uncommon -fond of the gals, sir. He’d go and talk to all the maid-servants round -about, if they was only good-looking. I used to go and ring the hairy -bells for him, and tell the gals to go and meet him in Chapel-street. -God bless him! I says, he was a pleasant gentleman, and a regular good -’un for a bit of fun, and always looking lively and smiling. I see he’s -got his old coachman yet, though the Prince don’t live in England at -present, but his son does, and he always gives me a half-crown when he -comes by too. - -“I gets a pretty fine lot of Christmas boxes, but nothing like what I -had in the old times. Prince E---- always gives me half a crown, and I -goes to the butler for it. Pretty near all my friends gives me a box, -them as knows me, and they say, ‘Here’s a Christmas box, Billy.’ - -“Last Christmas-day I took 36_s._, and that was pretty fair; but, bless -you, in the old times I’ve had my hat full of money. I tells you again -I’ve have had as much as 5_l._ in old times, all in old silver and -halfpence; that was in the old war, and not this runaway shabby affair. - -“Every Sunday I have sixpence regular from Lord H----, whether he’s in -town or not. I goes and fetches it. Mrs. D----, of Harley-street, she -gives me a shilling every Sunday when she’s in town; and the parents -as knows me give halfpence to their little girls to give me. Some -of the little ladies says, ‘Here, that will do you good.’ No, it’s -only pennies (for sixpences is out of fashion); and thank God for the -coppers, though they are little. - -“I generally, when the people’s out of town, take about 2_s._ or 2_s._ -6_d._ on the Sunday. Last Sunday I only took 1_s._ 3_d._, but then, you -see, it come on to rain and I didn’t stop. When the town’s full three -people alone gives me more than that. In the season I take 5_s._ safe -on a Sunday, or perhaps 6_s._--for you see it’s all like a lottery. - -“I should like you to mention Lady Mildmay in Grosvenor-square, sir. -Whenever I goes to see her--but you know I don’t go often--I’m safe for -5_s._, and at Christmas I have my regular salary, a guinea. She’s a -very old lady, and I’ve knowed her for many and many years. When I goes -to my lady she always comes out to speak to me at the door, and says -she, ‘Oh, ’tis Willy! and how do you do, Willy?’ and she always shakes -hands with me and laughs away. Ah! she’s a good kind creetur’; there’s -no pride in her whatsumever--and she never sacks her servants. - -“My crossing has been a good living to me and mine. It’s kept the whole -of us. Ah! in the old time I dare say I’ve made as much as 3_l._ a -week reg’lar by it. Besides, I used to have lots of broken vittals, -and I can tell you I know’d where to take ’em to. Ah! I’ve had as much -food as I could carry away, and reg’lar good stuff--chicken, and some -things I couldn’t guess the name of, they was so Frenchified. When -the fam’lies is in town I gets a good lot of food given me, but you -know when the nobility and gentlemen are away the servants is on board -wages, and cuss them board wages, I says. - -“I buried my father and mother as a son ought to. Mother was -seventy-three and father was sixty-five,--good round ages, ain’t they, -sir? I shall never live to be that. They are lying in St. John’s Wood -cemetery along with many of my brothers and sisters, which I have -buried as well. I’ve only two brothers living now; and, poor fellows, -they’re not very well to do. It cost me a good bit of money. I pay -2_s._ 6_d._ a-year for keeping up the graves of each of my parents, -and 1_s._ 2_d._ for my brothers. - -“There was the Earl of Gainsborough as I should like you to mention as -well, please sir. He lived in Chandos-street, and was a particular nice -man and very religious. He always gave me a shilling and a tract. Well, -you see, I _did_ often read the tract; they was all religious, and -about where your souls was to go to--very good, you know, what there -was, very good; and he used to buy ’em wholesale at a little shop, -corner of High-street, Marrabun. He was a very good, kind gentleman, -and gave away such a deal of money that he got reg’lar known, and the -little beggar girls follered him at such a rate that he was at last -forced to ride about in a cab to get away from ’em. He’s many a time -said to me, when he’s stopped to give me my shilling, ‘Billy, is any of -’em a follering me?’ He was safe to give to every body as asked him, -but you see it worried his soul out--and it was a kind soul, too--to be -follered about by a mob. - -“When all the fam’lies is in town I has 14_s._ a-week reg’lar as -clock-work from my friends as lives round the square, and when they’re -away I don’t get 6_d._ a-day, and sometimes I don’t get 1_d._ a-day, -and that’s less. You see some of ’em, like my Lord B----, is out eight -months in the year; and some of ’em, such as my Lord H----, is only -three. Then Mrs. D----, she’s away three months, and she always gives -1_s._ a-week reg’lar when she’s up in London. - -“I don’t take 4_s._ a-week on the crossing. Ah! I wish you’d give me -4_s._ for what I take. No, I make up by going of errands. I runs for -the fam’lies, and the servants, and any of ’em. Sometimes they sends me -to a banker’s with a cheque. Bless you! they’d trust me with anythink, -if it was a hat full. I’ve had a lot of money trusted to me at times. -At one time I had as much as 83_l._ to carry for the Duke of Portland. - -“Aye, that was a go--_that_ was! You see the hall-porter had had it -give to him to carry to the bank, and he gets me to do it for him; -but the vallet heerd of it, so he wanted to have a bit of fun, and he -wanted to put the hall-porter in a funk. I met the vallet in Holborn, -and says he, ‘Bill, I want to have a lark,’ so he kept me back, and -I did not get back till one o’clock. The hall-porter offered 5_l._ -reward for me, and sends the police; but Mr. Freebrother, Lord George’s -wallet, he says, ‘I’ll make it all right, Billy.’ They sent up to my -poor old people, and says father, ‘Billy wouldn’t rob anybody of a -nightcap, much more 80_l._’ I met the policeman in Holborn, and says -he, ‘I want you, Billy,’ and says I, ‘All right, here I am.’ When I -got home the hall-porter, says he, ‘Oh, I am a dead man; where’s the -money?’ and says I, ‘It’s lost.’ ‘Oh! it’s the Duke’s, not mine,’ -says he. Then I pulls it out; and says the porter, ‘It’s a lark of -Freebrother’s.’ So he gave me 2_l._ to make it all right. That _was_ -a game, and the hall-porter, says he, ‘I really thought you was gone, -Billy;’ but, says I, ‘If everybody carried as good a face as I do, -everybody would be as honest as any in Cavendish-square.’ - -“I had another lark at the Bishop of Durham’s. I was a cleaning the -knives, and a swellmobsman, with a green-baize bag, come down the -steps, and says he to me, ‘Is Mr. Lewis, the butler, in?’--he’d got -the name off quite pat. ‘No,’ says I, ‘he’s up-stairs;’ then says he, -‘Can I step into the pantry?’ ‘Oh, yes,’ says I, and shows him in. -Bless you! he was so well-dressed, I thought he was a master-shoemaker -or something; but as all the plate was there, thinks I, I’ll just lock -the door to make safe. So I fastens him in tight, and keeps him there -till Mr. Lewis comes. No, he didn’t take none of the plate, for Mr. -Lewis come down, and then, as he didn’t know nothink about him, we had -in a policeman, when we finds his bag was stuffed with silver tea-pots -and all sorts of things from my Lord Musgrave’s. Says Mr. Lewis, ‘You -did quite right, Billy.’ It wasn’t a likely thing I was going to let -anybody into a pantry crammed with silver. - -“There was another chap who had prigged a lot of plate. He was an -old man, and had a bag crammed with silver, and was a cutting away, -with lots of people after him. So I puts my broom across his legs and -tumbles him, and when he got up he cut away and left the bag. Ah! I’ve -seen a good many games in my time--that I have. The butler of the house -the plate had been stole from give me 2_l._ for doing him that turn. - -“Once a gentleman called me, and says he, ‘My man, how long have you -been in this square?’ Says I, ‘I’m Billy, and been here a’most all my -life.’ Then he says, ‘Can I trust you to take a cheque to Scott, the -banker?’ and I answers, ‘That’s as you like,’ for I wasn’t going to -press him. It was a heavy cheque, for Mr. Scott, as knows me well--aye, -well, he do--says ‘Billy, I can’t give you all in notes, you must stop -a bit.’ It nearly filled the bag I had with me. I took it all safe -back, and says he, ‘Ah! I knowed it would be all right,’ and he give me -a half-sovereign. I should like you to put these things down, ’cos it’s -a fine thing for my charackter, and I can show my face with any man for -being honest, that’s one good thing. - -“I pays 4_s._ a-week for two rooms, one up and one down, for I couldn’t -live in one room. I come to work always near eight o’clock, for you see -it takes me some time to clean the knives and boots at Lord B----’s. I -get sometimes 1_s._ and sometimes 1_s._ 6_d._ a-week for doing that, -and glad I am to have it. It’s only for the servants I does it, not for -the quality. - -“When I does anythink for the servants, it’s either cleaning boots and -knives, or putting letters in the post--that’s it--anythink of that -kind. They gives me just what they can, 1_d._ or 2_d._ or half a pint -of beer when they ha’n’t got any coppers. - -“Sometimes I gets a few left-off clothes, but very seldom. I have two -suits a-year give me reg’lar, and I goes to a first-rate tailor for -’em, though they don’t make the prime--of course not, yet they’re very -good. Now this coat I liked very well when it was new, it was so clean -and tidy. No, the tailor don’t show me the pattern-books and that sort -of thing: he knows what’s wanted. I won’t never have none of them -washing duck breeches; that’s the only thing as I refuses, and the -tailor knows that. I looks very nice after Christmas, I can tell you, -and I’ve always got a good tidy suit for Sundays, and God bless them as -gives ’em to me. - -“Every Sunday I gets a hot dinner at Lord B----’s, whether he’s out of -town or in town--that’s summat. I gets bits, too, give me, so that I -don’t buy a dinner, no, not once a-week. I pays 4_s._ a-week rent, and -I dare say my food, morning and night, costs me a 1_s._ a-day--aye, I’m -sure it does, morning and night. At present I don’t make 12_s._ a-week; -but take the year round, one week with another, it might come to 13_s._ -or 14_s._ a-week I gets. Yes, I’ll own to that. - -“Christmas is my best time; then I gets more than 1_l._ a-week: now I -don’t take 4_s._ a-week on my crossing. Many’s the time I’ve made my -breakfast on a pen’orth of coffee and a halfpenny slice of bread and -butter. What do you think of that? - -“Wet weather does all the harm to me. People, you see, don’t like to -come out. I think I’ve got the best side of the square, and you see my -crossing is a long one, and saves people a deal of ground, for it cuts -off the corner. It used to be a famous crossing in its time--hah! but -that’s gone. - -“I always uses what they calls the brush-brooms; that’s them with a -flat head like a house-broom. I can’t abide them others; they don’t -look well, and they wears out ten times as quick as mine. I general -buys the eights, that’s 10_d._ a-piece, and finds my own handles. A -broom won’t last me more than a fortnight, it’s such a long crossing; -but when it was paved, afore this muckydam (macadamising) was turned -up, a broom would last me a full three months. I can’t abide this -muckydam--can you, sir? it’s sloppy stuff, and goes so bad in holes. -Give me the good solid stones as used to be. - -“I does a good business round the square when the snow’s on the ground. -I general does each house at so much a-week whilst it snows. Hardwicks -give me a shilling. I does only my side, and that next Oxford-street. I -don’t go to the others, unless somebody comes and orders me--for fair -play _is_ fair play--and they belongs to the other sweepers. I does -my part and they does theirs. - -“It’s seldom as I has a shop to sweep out, and I don’t do nothink with -shutters. I’m getting too old now for to be called in to carry boxes up -gentlemen’s houses, but when I was young I found plenty to do that way. -There’s a man at the corner of Chandos-street, and he does the most of -that kind of work.” - - -THE BEARDED CROSSING-SWEEPER AT THE EXCHANGE. - -Since the destruction by fire of the Royal Exchange in 1838, there -has been added to the curiosities of Cornhill a thickset, sturdy, and -hirsute crossing-sweeper--a man who is as civil by habit as he is -independent by nature. He has a long flowing beard, grey as wood smoke, -and a pair of fierce moustaches, giving a patriarchal air of importance -to a marked and observant face, which often serves as a painter’s -model. After half-an-hour’s conversation, you are forced to admit that -his looks do not all belie him, and that the old mariner (for such was -his profession formerly) is worthy in some measure of his beard. - -He wears an old felt hat--very battered and discoloured; around his -neck, which is bared in accordance with sailor custom, he has a thick -blue cotton neckerchief tied in a sailor’s knot; his long iron-grey -beard is accompanied by a healthy and almost ruddy face. He stands -against the post all day, saying nothing, and taking what he can get -without solicitation. - -[Illustration: THE BEARDED CROSSING-SWEEPER AT THE EXCHANGE. - -[_From a Photograph._]] - -When I first spoke to him, he wanted to know to what purpose I intended -applying the information that he was prepared to afford, and it was -not until I agreed to walk with him as far as St. Mary-Axe that I was -enabled to obtain his statement, as follows:-- - -“I’ve had this crossing ever since ’38. The Exchange was burnt down -in that year. Why, sir, I was wandering about trying to get a crust, -and it was very sloppy, so I took and got a broom; and while I kept a -clean crossing, I used to get ha’pence and pence. I got a dockman’s -wages--that’s half-a-crown a-day; sometimes only a shilling, and -sometimes more. I have taken a crown--but that’s very rare. The best -customers I had is dead. I used to make a good Christmas, but I don’t -now. I have taken a pound or thirty shillings then in the old times. - -“I smoke, sir; I _will_ have tobacco, if I can’t get grub. My old woman -takes cares that I have tobacco. - -“I have been a sailor, and the first ship as ever I was in was the Old -Colossus, 74, but we was only cruising about the Channel then, and took -two prizes. I went aboard the Old Remewa guardship--we were turned over -to her--and from her I was drafted over to the Escramander frigate. We -went out chasing Boney, but he gived himself up to the Old Impregnable. -I was at the taking of Algiers, in 1816, in the Superb. I was in the -Rochfort, 74, up the Mediterranean (they call it up the Mediterranean, -but it was the Malta station) three years, ten months, and twenty days, -until the ship was paid off. - -“Then I went to work at the Dockyard. I had a misfortune soon after -that. I fell out of a garret window, three stories high, and that kept -me from going to the Docks again. I lost all my top teeth by that fall. -I’ve got a scar here, one on my chin; but I warn’t in the hospital more -than two weeks. - -“I was afeard of being taken up solicitin’ charity, and I knew that -sweeping was a safe game; they couldn’t take me up for sweeping a -crossing. - -“Sometimes I get insulted, only in words; sometimes I get chaffed by -sober people. Drunken men I don’t care for; I never listen to ’em, -unless they handle me, and then, although I am sixty-three this very -day, sir, I think I could show them something. I _do_ carry my age -well; and if you could ha’ seen how I have lived this last winter -through, sometimes one pound of bread between two of us, you’d say I -was a strong man to be as I am. - -“Those who think that sweepin’ a crossing is idle work, make a great -mistake. In wet weather, the traffic that makes it gets sloppy as -soon as it’s cleaned. Cabs, and ’busses, and carriages continually -going over the crossing must scatter the mud on it, and you must look -precious sharp to keep it clean; but when I once get in the road, I -never jump out of it. I keeps my eye both ways, and if I gets in too -close quarters, I slips round the wheels. I’ve had them almost touch me. - -“No, sir, I never got knocked down. In foggy weather, of course, it’s -no use sweeping at all. - -“Parcels! it’s very few parcels I get to carry now; I don’t think I -get a parcel to carry once in a month: there’s ’busses and railways so -cheap. A man would charge as much for a distance as a cab would take -them. - -“I don’t come to the same crossing on Sundays; I go to the corner of -Finch-lane. As to regular customers, I’ve none--to say regular; some -give me sixpence now and then. All those who used to give me regular -are dead. - -“I was a-bed when the Exchange was burnt down. - -“I have had this beard five years. I grew it to sit to artists when I -got the chance; but it don’t pay expenses--for I have to walk four or -five miles, and only get a shilling an hour: besides, I’m often kept -nearly two hours, and I get nothing for going and nothing for coming, -but just for the time I am there. - -“Afore I wore it, I had a pair of large whiskers. I went to a -gentleman then, an artist, and he _did_ pay me well. He advised me to -grow mustarshers and the beard, but he hasn’t employed me since. - -“They call me ‘Old Jack’ on the crossing, that’s all they call me. I -get more chaff from the boys than any one else. They only say, ‘Why -don’t you get shaved?’ but I take no notice on ’em. - -“Old Bill, in Lombard Street! I knows him; he used to make a good thing -of it, but I don’t think he makes much now. - -“My wife--I am married, sir--doesn’t do anything. I live in a -lodging-house, and I pay three shillings a-week. - -“I tell you what we has, now, when I go home. We has a pound of bread, -a quarter of an ounce of tea, and perhaps a red herring. - -“I’ve had a weakness in my legs for two year; the veins comes down, but -I keep a bandage in my pocket, and when I feels ’em coming down, I puts -the bandage on ’till the veins goes up again--it’s through being on my -legs so long (because I had very strong legs when young) and want of -good food. When you only have a bit of bread and a cup of tea--no meat, -no vegetables--you find it out; but I’m as upright as a dart, and as -lissom as ever I was. - -“I gives threepence for my brooms. I wears out three in a week in the -wet weather. I always lean very hard on my broom, ’specially when -the mud is sticky--as it is after the roads is watered. I am very -particular about my brooms; I gives ’em away to be burned when many -another would use them.” - - -THE SWEEPER IN PORTMAN SQUARE, WHO GOT PERMISSION FROM THE POLICE. - -A wild-looking man, with long straggling grey hair, which stood out -from his head as if he brushed it the wrong way; and whiskers so thick -and curling that they reminded one of the wool round a sheep’s face, -gave me the accompanying history. - -He was very fond of making use of the term “honest crust,” and each -time he did so, he, Irish-like, pronounced it “currust.” He seemed a -kind-hearted, innocent creature, half scared by want and old age. - -“I’m blest if I can tell which is the best crossing in London; but -mine ain’t no great shakes, for I don’t take three shilling a-week not -with persons going across, take one week with another, but I thought -I could get a honest currust (crust) at it, for I’ve got a crippled -hand, which comed of its own accord, and I was in St. George’s Hospital -seven weeks. When I comed out it was a cripple with me, and I thought -the crossing was better than going into the workhouse--for I likes my -liberty. - -“I’ve been on this crossing since last Christmas was a twelvemonth. -Before that I was a bricklayer and plasterer. I’ve been thirty-two -years in London. I can get as good a character as any one anywhere, -please God; for as to drunkards, and all that, I was none of them. I -was earning eighteen shilling a-week, and sometimes with my overtime -I’ve had twenty shilling, or even twenty-three shilling. Bricklayers is -paid according to all the hours they works beyond ten, for that’s the -bricklayer’s day. - -“I was among the lime, and the sand, and the bricks, and then my hand -come like this (he held out a hand with all the fingers drawn up -towards the middle, like the claw of a dead bird). All the sinews have -gone, as you see yourself, sir, so that I can’t bend it or straighten -it, for the fingers are like bits of stick, and you can’t bend ’em -without breaking them. - -“When I couldn’t lay hold of anything, nor lift it up, I showed it to -master, and he sent me to his doctor, who gived me something to rub -over it, for it was swelled up like, and then I went to St. George’s -Hospital, and they cut it over, and asked me if I could come in doors -as in-door patient? and I said Yes, for I wanted to get it over sooner, -and go back to my work, and earn an honest currust. Then they scarred -it again, cut it seven times, and I was there many long weeks; and -when I comed out I could not hold any tool, so I was forced to keep -on pawning and pledging to keep an honest currust in my mouth, and -sometimes I’d only just be with a morsel to eat, and sometimes I’d be -hungry, and that’s the truth. - -“What put me up to crossing-sweeping was this--I had no other thing -open to me but the workhouse; but of course I’d sooner be out on my -liberty, though I was entitled to go into the house, of course, but I’d -sooner keep out of it if I could earn an honest currust. - -“One of my neighbours persuaded me that I should pick up a good currust -at a crossing. The man who had been on my crossing was gone dead, and -as it was empty, I went down to the police-office, in Marylebone Lane, -and they told me I might take it, and give me liberty to stop. I was -told the man who had been there before me had been on it fourteen -years, and them was good times for gentle and simple and all--and it -was reported that this man had made a good bit of money, at least so it -was said. - -“I thought I could make a living out of it, or an honest currust, but -it’s a very poor living, I can assure you. When I went to it first, I -done pretty fair for a currust; but it’s only three shillings to me -now. My missus has such bad health, or she used to help me with her -needle. I can assure you, sir, it’s only one day a week as I have a bit -of dinner, and I often go without breakfast and supper, too. - -“I haven’t got any regular customers that allow me anything. When the -families is in town sometimes they give me half-a-crown, or sixpence, -now and then, perhaps once a fortnight, or a month. They’ve got footmen -and servant-maids, so they never wants no parcels taken--they make -_them_ do it; but sometimes I get a penny for posting a letter from one -of the maids, or something like that. - -“The best day for us is Sunday. Sometimes I get a shilling, and when -the families is in town eighteen pence. But when the families is away, -and the weather so fine there’s no mud, and only working-people going -to the chapels, they never looks at me, and then I’ll only get a -shilling.” - - -ANOTHER WHO GOT PERMISSION TO SWEEP. - -An old Irishman, who comes from Cork, was spoken of to us as a -crossing-sweeper who had formally obtained permission before exercising -his calling; but I found, upon questioning him, that it was but little -more than a true Hibernian piece of conciliation on his part; and, -indeed, that out of fear of competition, he had asked leave of the -servants and policeman in the neighbourhood. - -It seems somewhat curious, as illustrative of the rights of property -among crossing-sweepers, that three or four “intending” sweepers, when -they found themselves forestalled by the old man in question, had no -idea of supplanting the Irishman, and merely remarked,-- - -“Well, you’re lucky to get it so soon, for we meant to take it.” - -In reply to our questions, the man said,-- - -“I came here in January last: I knew the old man was did who used to -keep the crossin’, and I thought I would like the kind of worruk, for -I am getting blind, and hard of hearing likewise. I’ve got no parish; -since the passing of the last Act, I’ve niver lived long enough in any -one parish for that. I applied to Marabone, and they offered to sind me -back to Ireland, but I’d got no one to go to, no friends or relations, -or if I have, they’re as poor there as I am mysilf, sir. - -“There was an ould man here before me. He used to have a stool to rest -himsilf on, and whin he died, last Christmas, a man as knew him and me -asked me whither I would take it or no, and I said I would. His broom -and stool were in the coal-cellar at this corner house, Mr. ----’s, -where he used to leave them at night times, and they gave them up to -me; but I didn’t use the stool, sir, it might be an obsthruction to the -passers-by; and, sir, it looks as if it was infirrumity. But, plaise -the Lord, I’ll git and make a stool for myself against the hard winter, -I will, bein’ a carpenter by thrade. - -“I didn’t ask the gintlefolks’ permission to come here, but I asked -the police and the servants, and such as that. I asked the servants at -the corner-house. I don’t know whither they could have kept me away -if I had not asked. Soon after I came here the gintlefolks--some of -them--stopped and spoke to me. ‘So,’ says they, ‘you’ve taken the place -of the old man that’s did?’ ‘Yes, I have,’ says I. ‘Very will,’ says -they, and they give me a ha’penny. That was all that occurred upon my -takin’ to the crossin’. - -“But there were some others who would have taken it if I had not; they -tould me I was lucky in gettin’ it so soon, or they would have had it, -but I don’t know who they are. - -“I am seventy-three years ould the 2d of June last. My wife is about -the same age, and very much afflicted with the rheumatis, and she -injured hersilf, too, years ago, by fallin’ off a chair while she was -takin’ some clothes off the line. - -“Not to desave you, sir, I get a shillin’ a-week from one of my childer -and ninepence from another, and a little hilp from some of the others. -I have siven childer livin’, and have had tin. They are very much -scattered: two are abroad; one is in the tinth Hussars--he is kind to -me. The one who allows me ninepence is a basket-maker at Reading; and -the shillin’ I get from my daughter, a servant, sir. One of my sons -died in the Crimmy; he was in the 13th Light Dragoons, and died at -Scutari, on the 25th of May. They could not hilp me more than they thry -to do, sir. - -“I only make about two shilling a-week here, sir; and sometimes I -don’t take three ha’pence a day. On Sundays I take about sivenpence, -ninepence, or tinpence, ’cordin’ as I see the people who give rigular. - -“Weather makes no difference to me--for, though the sum is small, I am -a rigular pinsioner like of theirs. I go to Somer’s-town Chapel, being -a Catholic, for I’m not ashamed to own my religion before any man. When -I go, it is at siven in the evening. Sometimes I go to St. Pathrick’s -Chapel, Soho-square. I have not been to confission for two or three -years--the last time was to Mr. Stanton, at St. Pathrick’s. - -“There’s a poor woman, sir, who goes past here every Friday to get her -pay from the parish, and, as sure as she comes back again, she gives me -a ha’penny--she does, indeed. Sometimes the baker or the greengrocer -gives me a ha’penny for minding their baskets. - -“I’m perfectly satisfied; it’s no use to grumble, and I might be worrus -off, sir. Yes, I go of arrinds some times; fitch water now and then, -and post letters; but I do no odd jobs, such as hilping the servants -to clean the knives, or such-like. No: they wouldn’t let me behint the -shadow of their doors.” - - -A THIRD WHO ASKED LEAVE. - -This one was a mild and rather intelligent man, in a well worn black -dress-coat and waistcoat, a pair of “moleskin” trousers, and a -blue-and-white cotton neckerchief. I found him sweeping the crossing at -the end of ---- place, opposite the church. - -He every now and then regaled himself with a pinch of snuff, which -seemed to light up his careworn face. He seemed very willing to afford -me information. He said:-- - -“I have been on this crossing four years. I am a bricklayer by trade; -but you see how my fingers have gone: it’s all rheumatics, sir. I took -a great many colds. I had a great deal of underground work, and that -tries a man very much. - -“How did I get the crossing? Well, I took it--I came as a cas’alty. -No one ever interfered with me. If one man leaves a crossing, well, -another takes it. - -“Yes, some crossings is worth a good deal of money. There was a black -in Regent-street, at the corner of Conduit-street, I think, who had two -or three houses--at least, I’ve heard so; and I know for a certainty -that the man in Cavendish-square used to get so much a week from -the Duke of Portland--he got a shilling a-day, and eighteenpence on -Sundays. I don’t know why he got more on Sundays. I don’t know whether -he gets it since the old Duke’s death. - -“The boys worry me. I mean the little boys with brooms; they are an -abusive set, and give me a good deal of annoyance; they are so very -cheeky; they watch the police away; but if they see the police coming, -they bolt like a shot. There are a great many Irish lads among them. -There were not nearly so many boys about a few years ago. - -“I once made eighteenpence in one day, that was the best day I ever -made: it was very bad weather: but, take the year through, I don’t make -more than sixpence a-day. - -“I haven’t worked at bricklaying for a matter of six year. What did I -do for the two years before I took to crossing-sweeping? Why, sir, I -had saved a little money, and managed to get on somehow. Yes, I have -had my troubles, but I never had what I call great ones, excepting my -wife’s blindness. She was blind, sir, for eleven year, and so I had to -fight for everything: she has been dead two year, come September. - -“I have seven children, five boys and two girls; they are all grown up -and got families. Yes, they ought, amongst them, to do something for -me; but if you have to trust to children, you will soon find out what -_that_ is. If they want anything of you, they know where to find you; -but if you want anything of them, it’s no go. - -“I think I made more money when first I swept this crossing than I do -now; it’s not a _good_ crossing, sir. Oh, no; but it’s handy home, you -see. When a shower of rain comes on, I can run home, and needn’t go -into a public-house; but it’s a poor neighbourhood. - -“Oh yes, indeed sir, I am always here. Certainly; I am laid up -sometimes for a day with my feet. I am subject to the rheumatic gout, -you see. Well, I don’t know whether so much standing has anything to do -with it. - -“Yes, sir, I _have_ heard of what you call ‘shutting-up shop.’ I -never heard it called by that name before, though; but there’s lots -of sweepers as sweep back the dirt before leaving at night. I know -they do, some of them. I never did it myself--I don’t care about it; I -always think there’s the trouble of sweeping it back in the morning. - -“People liberal? No, sir, I don’t think there are many liberal people -about; if people were liberal I should make a good deal of money. - -“Sometimes, after I get home, I read a book, if I can borrow one. What -do I read? Well, novels, when I can get them. What did I read last -night? Well, _Reynolds’s Miscellany_; before that I read the _Pilgrim’s -Progress_. I have read it three times over; but there’s always -something new in it. - -“Well, weather makes very little difference in this neighbourhood. -My rent is two-and-sixpence a-week. I have a little relief from the -parish. How much? Two-and-sixpence. How much does my living cost? Well, -I am forced to live on what I can get. I manage as well as I can; if I -have a good week, I spend it--I get more nourishment then, that’s all. - -“I used to smoke, sir, a great deal, but I haven’t touched a pipe for a -matter of forty year. Yes, sir, I take snuff, Scotch and Rappee, mixed. -If I go without a meal of victuals, I must have my snuff. I take an -ounce a-week, sir; it costs fourpence--that there is the only luxury I -get, unless somebody gives me a half pint of beer. - -“I very rarely get an odd job, this is not the neighbourhood for them -things. - -“Yes, sir, I go to church on Sunday; I go to All Souls’, in -Langham-place, the church with the sharp spire. I go in the morning; -once a day is quite enough for me. In the afternoon, I generally take a -walk in the Park, or I go to see one of my young ones; they won’t come -to the old crossing-sweeper, so I go to them.” - - -A REGENT-STREET CROSSING-SWEEPER. - -A man who had stationed himself at the end of Regent-street, near the -County Fire Office, gave me the following particulars. - -He was a man far superior to the ordinary run of sweepers, and, as will -be seen, had formerly been a gentleman’s servant. His costume was of -that peculiar miscellaneous description which showed that it had from -time to time been given to him in charity. A dress-coat so marvellously -tight that the stitches were stretching open, a waistcoat with a -remnant of embroidery, and a pair of trousers which wrinkled like a -groom’s top-boot, had all evidently been part of the wardrobe of the -gentlemen whose errands he had run. His boots were the most curious -portion of his toilette, for they were large enough for a fisherman, -and the portion unoccupied by the foot had gone flat and turned up like -a Turkish slipper. - -He spoke with a tone and manner which showed some education. Once or -twice whilst I was listening to his statement he insisted upon removing -some dirt from my shoulder, and, on leaving, he by force seized my hat -and brushed it--all which habits of attention he had contracted whilst -in service. - -I was surprised to see stuck in the wristband of his coat-sleeve a row -of pins, arranged as neatly as in the papers sold at the mercers’. - -“Since the Irish have come so much--the boys, I mean--my crossing has -been completely cut up,” he said; “and yet it is in as good a spot as -could well be, from the County Fire Office (Mr. Beaumont as owns it) -to Swan and Edgar’s. It ought to be one of the fust crossings in the -kingdom, but these Irish have spiled it. - -“I should think, as far as I can guess, I’ve been on it eight year, -if not better; but it was some time before I got known. You see, it -does a feller good to be some time on a crossing; but it all depends, -of course, whether you are honest or not, for it’s according to -your honesty as you gets rewarded. By rewarded, I means, you gets a -character given to you by word of mouth. For instance, a party wants me -to do a job for ’em, and they says, ‘Can you get any lady or gentleman -to speak for you?’ And I says, ‘Yes;’ and I gets my character by word -of mouth--that’s what I calls being rewarded. - -“Before ever I took a broom in hand, the good times had gone for -crossings and sweepers. The good times was thirty year back. In -the regular season, when _they_ (the gentry) are in town, I _have_ -taken from one and sixpence to two shillings a-day; but every day’s -not alike, for people stop at home in wet days. But, you see, in -winter-time the crossings ain’t no good, and then we turn off to -shovelling snow; so that, you see, a shilling a-day is even too high -for us to take regular all the year round. Now, I ain’t taken a -shilling, no, nor a blessed bit of silver, for these three days. All -the quality’s out of town. - -“It ain’t what a man gets on a crossing as keeps him; _that_ ain’t -worth mentioning. I don’t think I takes sixpence a-day regular--all the -year round, mind--on the crossing. No, I’d take my solemn oath I don’t! -If you was to put down fourpence it would be nearer the mark. I’ll tell -you the use of a crossing to such as me and my likes. It’s our shop, -and it ain’t what we gets a-sweeping, but it’s a place like for us to -stand, and then people as wants us, comes and fetches us. - -“In the summer I do a good deal in jobs. I do anything in the portering -line, or if I’m called to do boots and shoes, or clean knives and -forks, then I does that. But that’s only when people’s busy; for I’ve -only got one regular place I goes to, and that’s in A---- street, -Piccadilly. I goes messages, parcels, letters, and anything that’s -required, either for the master of the hotel or the gents that uses -there. Now, there’s one party at Swan and Edgar’s, and I goes to take -parcels for him sometimes; and he won’t trust anybody but me, for you -see I’m know’d to be trustworthy, and then they reckons me as safe as -the Bank,--there, that’s just it. - -“I got to the hotel only lately. You see, when the peace was on and -the soldiers was coming home from the Crimmy, then the governor he -was exceeding busy, so he give me two shillings a-day and my board; -but that wasn’t reg’lar, for as he wants me he comes and fetches me. -It’s a-nigh impossible to say what I makes, it don’t turn out reg’lar; -Sunday’s a shilling or one-and-sixpence, other days nothing at all--not -salt to my porridge. You see, when I helps the party at the hotel, I -gets my food, and that’s a lift. I’ve never put down what I made in the -course of the year, but I’ve got enough to find food and raiment for -myself and family. Sir, I think I may say I gets about six shillings -a-week, but it ain’t more. - -“I’ve been abroad a good deal. I was in Cape Town, Table Bay, -one-and-twenty miles from Simons’ Town--for you see the French -mans-of-war comes in at Cape Town, and the English mans-of-war comes -in at Simons’ Town. I was a gentleman’s servant over there, and a very -good place it was; and if anybody was to have told me years back that I -was to have come to what I am now, I could never have credited it; but -misfortunes has brought me to what I am. - -“I come to England thinking to better myself, if so be it was the -opportunity; besides, I was tired of Africy, and anxious to see my -native land. - -“I was very hard up--ay, very hard up indeed--before I took to the -cross, and, in preference to turning out dishonest, I says, I’ll buy a -broom and go and sweep and get a honest livelihood. - -“There was a Jewish lady and her husband used to live in the Suckus, -and I knowed them and the family--very fine sons they was--and I went -into the shop to ask them to let me work before the shop, and they give -me their permission so to do, and, says she, ‘I’ll allow you threepence -a-week.’ They’ve been good friends to me, and send me a messages; and -wherever they be, may they do well, I says. - -“I sometimes gets clothes give to me, but it’s only at Christmas times, -or after its over; and that helps me along--it does so, indeed. - -“Whenever I sees a pin or a needle, I picks it up; sometimes I finds -as many as a dozen a-day, and I always sticks them either in my cuff -or in my waistcoat. Very often a lady sees ’em, and then they comes -to me and says, ‘Can you oblige me with a pin?’ and I says, ‘Oh yes, -marm; a couple, or three, if you requires them;’ but it turns out very -rare that I gets a trifle for anything like that. I only does it to be -obliging--besides, it makes you friends, like. - -“I can’t tell who’s got the best crossing in London. I’m no judge of -that; it isn’t a broom as can keep a man now. They’re going out of town -so fast, all the harristocracy; though it’s middling classes--such as -is in a middling way like--as is the best friends to me.” - - -A TRADESMAN’S CROSSING-SWEEPER. - -A man who had worked at crossing-sweeping as a boy when he first came -to London, and again when he grew too old to do his work as a labourer -in a coal-yard, gave me a statement of the kind of life he led, and the -earnings he made. He was an old man, with a forehead so wrinkled that -the dark, waved lines reminded me of the grain of oak. His thick hair -was, despite his great age--which was nearly seventy--still dark; and -as he conversed with me, he was continually taking off his hat, and -wiping his face with what appeared to be a piece of flannel, about a -foot square. - -His costume was of what might be called “the all-sorts” kind, and, from -constant wear, it had lost its original colour, and had turned into a -sort of dirty green-grey hue. It consisted of a waistcoat of tweed, -fastened together with buttons of glass, metal, and bone; a tail-coat, -turned brown with weather, a pair of trousers repaired here and there -with big stitches, like the teeth of a comb, and these formed the -extent of his wardrobe. Around the collar of the coat and waistcoat, -and on the thighs of the pantaloons, the layers of grease were so thick -that the fibre of the cloth was choked up, and it looked as if it had -been pieced with bits of leather. - -Rubbing his unshorn chin, whereon the bristles stood up like the -pegs in the barrel of a musical-box--until it made a noise like a -hair-brush, he began his story:-- - -“I’m known all about in Parliament-street--ay, every bit about them -parts,--for more than thirty year. Ay, I’m as well known as the -statty itself, all about them parts at Charing-cross. Afore I took to -crossing-sweeping I was at coal-work. The coal-work I did was backing -and filling, and anythink in that way. I worked at Wood’s, and Penny’s, -and Douglas’s. They were good masters, Mr. Wood ’specially; but the -work was too much for me as I got old. There was plenty of coal work -in them times; indeed, I’ve yearned as much as nine shillings of a -day. That was the time as the meters was on. Now men can hardly earn a -living at coal-work. I left the coal-work because I was took ill with a -fever, as was brought on by sweating--over-_exaction_ they called it. -It left me so weak I wasn’t able to do nothink in the yards. - -“I know Mr. G----, the fishmonger, and Mr. J----, the publican. I -should think Mr. J---- has knowed me this eight-and-thirty-year, and -they put me on to the crossing. You see, when I was odd man at a coal -job, I’d go and do whatever there was to be done in the neighbourhood. -If there was anythink as Mr. G----’s men couldn’t do--such as carrying -fish home to a customer, when the other men were busy--I was sent for. -Or Mr. J---- would send me with sperrits--a gallon, or half a gallon, -or anythink of that sort--a long journey. In fact, I’d get anythink as -come handy. - -“I had done crossing-sweeping as a boy, before I took to coal-work, -when I first come out of the country. My own head first put me up to -the notion, and that’s more than fifty year ago--ay, more than that; -but I can’t call to mind exactly, for I’ve had no parents ever since I -was eight year old, and now I’m nigh seventy; but it’s as close as I -can remember. I was about thirteen at that time. There was no police on -then, and I saw a good bit of road as was dirty, and says I, ‘That’s a -good spot to keep clean,’ and I took it. I used to go up to the tops of -the houses to throw over the snow, and I’ve often been obliged to get -men to help me. I suppose I was about the first person as ever swept -a crossing in Charing-cross; (here, as if proud of the fact, he gave -a kind of moist chuckle, which ended in a fit of coughing). I used to -make a good bit of money then; but it ain’t worth nothink, now. - -“After I left coal-backing, I went back to the old crossing opposite -the Adm’ralty gates, and I stopped there until Mr. G---- give me -the one I’m on now, and thank him for it, I says. Mr. G---- had the -crossing paved, as leads to his shop, to accommodate the customers. -He had a German there to sweep it afore me. He used to sweep in the -day--come about ten or eleven o’clock in the morning, and then at night -he turned watchman; for when there was any wenson, as Mr. G---- deals -in, hanging out, he was put to watch it. This German worked there, I -reckon, about seven year, and when he died I took the crossing. - -“The crossing ain’t much of a living for any body--that is, what I -takes on it. But then I’ve got regular customers as gives me money. -There’s Mr. G----, he gives a shilling a-week; and there’s Captain -R----, of the Adm’ralty, he gives me sixpence a fortnight; and another -captain, of the name of R----, he gives me fourpence every Sunday. -Ah! I’d forgot Mr. O----, the Secretary at the Adm’ralty; he gives me -sixpence now and then. Besides, I do a lot of odd jobs for different -people; they knows where to come and find me when they wants me. They -gets me to carry letters, or a parcel, or a box, or anythink of that -there. I has a bit of vittals, too, give me every now and then; but as -for money, it’s very little as I get on the crossings--perhaps seven or -eight shilling a-week, reg’lar customers and all. - -“I never heard of anybody as was leaving a crossing selling it; no, -never. My crossing ain’t a reg’lar one as anybody could have. If I was -to leave, it depends upon whether Mr. G---- would like to have the -party, as to who gets it. There’s no such thing as turning a reg’lar -sweeper out, the police stops that. I’ve been known to them for years, -and they are very kind to me. As they come’s by they says, ‘Jimmy, how -are you?’ You see, my crossing comes handy for them, for it’s agin -Scotland-yard; and when they turns out in their clean boots it saves -their blacking. - -“Lord G---- used to be at the Adm’ralty, but he ain’t there now; I -don’t know why he left, but he’s gone. He used to give me sixpence -every now and then when he come over. I was near to my crossing when -Mr. Drummond was shot, but I wasn’t near enough to hear the pistol; but -I didn’t see nothink. I know’d the late Sir Robert Peel, oh, certantly, -but he seldom crossed over my crossing, though whenever he did, he’d -give me somethink. The present Sir Robert goes over to the chapel in -Spring-gardens when he’s in town, but he keeps on the other side of the -way; so I never had anythink from him. He’s the very picture of his -father, and I knows him from that, only his father were rather stouter -than he is. I don’t know none of the members of parliament, they most -on ’em keeps on shifting so, that I hasn’t no time to recognise ’em. - -“The watering-carts ain’t no friends of our’n. They makes dirt and no -pay for cleaning it. There’s so much traffic with coaches and carts -going right over my crossing that a fine or wet day don’t make much -difference to me, for people are afraid to cross for fear of being run -over. I’m forced to have my eyes about me and dodge the wehicles. I -never heerd, as I can tell on, of a crossing-sweeper being run over.” - - -2. THE ABLE-BODIED FEMALE CROSSING-SWEEPERS. - - -THE OLD WOMAN “OVER THE WATER.” - -She is the widow of a sweep--“as respectable and ’dustrious a man,” -I was told, “as any in the neighbourhood of the ‘Borough;’ he was a -short man, sir,--very short,” said my informant, “and had a weakness -for top-boots, white hats, and leather breeches,” and in that -unsweeplike costume he would parade himself up and down the Dover and -New Kent-roads. He had a capital connexion (or, as his widow terms it, -“seat of business”), and left behind him a good name and reputation -that would have kept the “seat of business” together, if it had not -been for the misconduct of the children, two of whom (sons) have been -transported, while a daughter “went wrong,” though she, wretched -creature, paid a fearful penalty, I learnt, for her frailties, having -been burnt to death in the middle of the night, through a careless -habit of smoking in bed. - -The old sweeper herself, eighty years of age, and almost beyond labour, -very deaf, and rather feeble to all appearance, yet manages to get -out every morning between four and five, so as to catch the workmen -and “time-keepers” on their way to the factories. She has the true -obsequious curtsey, but is said to be very strong in her “likes and -dislikes.” - -She bears a good character, though sometimes inclining, I was informed, -towards “the other half-pint,” but never guilty of any excess. She is -somewhat profuse in her scriptural ejaculations and professions of -gratitude. Her statement was as follows:-- - -“Fifteen years I’ve been on the crossing, come next Christmas. My -husband died in Guy’s Hospital, of the cholera, three days after he got -in, and I took to the crossing some time after. I had nothing to do. -I am eighty years of age, and I couldn’t do hard work. I have nothing -but what the great God above pleases to give me. The poor woman who had -the crossing before me was killed, and so I took it. The gentleman who -was the foreman of the road, gave me the grant to take it. I didn’t -ask him, for poor people as wants a bit of bread they goes on the -crossings as they likes, but he never interfered with me. The first day -I took sixpence; but them good times is all gone, they’ll never come -back again. The best times I used to take a shilling a-day, and now I -don’t take but a few pence. The winter is as bad as the summer, for -poor people haven’t got it to give, and gentlefolks get very near now. -People are not so liberal as they used to be, and they never will be -again. - -“To do a hard day’s washing, I couldn’t. I used to go to a lady’s house -to do a bit of washing when I had my strength, but I can’t do it now. - -“People going to their offices at six or seven in the morning gives me -a ha’penny or a penny; if they don’t, I must go without it. I go at -five, and stand there till eleven or twelve, till I find it is no use -being there any longer. Oh, the gentlemen give me the most, I’m sure; -the ladies don’t give me nothing. - -“At Christmas I get a few things--a gentleman gave me these boots I’ve -got on, and a ticket for a half-quartern loaf and a hundred of coals. I -have got as much as five shillings at Christmas--but those times will -never come back again. I get no more than two shillings and sixpence at -Christmas now. - -“My husband, Thomas ---- was his name, was a chimley-sweep. He did a -very good business--it was all done by his sons. We had a boy with -us, too, just as a friendly boy. I was a mother and a mistress to -him. I’ve had eleven children. I’m grandmother to fifteen, and a -great-grandmother, too. They won’t give me a bite of bread, though, any -of ’em, I’ve got four children living, as far as I know, two abroad -and two home here with families. I never go among ’em. It is not in my -power to assist ’em, so I never go to distress ’em. - -“I get two shilling a-week from the parish, and I have to pay out of -that for a quartern loaf, a quartern of sugar, and an ounce of tea. The -parish forces it on me, so I must take it, and that only leaves me one -shilling and fourpence. A shilling of it goes for my lodging. I lodge -with people who knew my family and me, and took a liking to me; they -let me come there instead of wandering about the streets. - -“I stand on my crossing till I’m like to drop over my broom with -tiredness. Yes, sir, I go to church at St. George’s in the Borough. I -go there every Sunday morning, after I leave my roads. They’ve taken -the organ and charity children away that used to be there when I was a -girl, so it’s not a church now, it’s a chapel. There’s nothing but the -preacher and the gentlefolks, and they sings their own psalms. There -are gatherings at that church, but whether it’s for the poor or not I -don’t know. _I_ don’t get any of it. - -“It was a great loss to me when my husband died; I went all to ruin -then. My father belonged to Scotland, at Edinboro’. My mother came from -Yorkshire. I don’t know where Scotland is no more than the dead. My -father was a gentleman’s gardener and watchman. My mother used to go -out a-chairing, and she was drowned just by Horsemonger Lane. She was -coming through the Halfpenny Hatch, that used to be just facing the -Crown and Anchor, in the New Kent-road; there was an open ditch there, -sir. She took the left-hand turning instead of the right, and was -drownded. My father died in St. Martin’s Workhouse. He died of apoplexy -fit. - -“I used to mind my father’s place till mother died. His housekeeper -I was--God help me! a fine one too. Thank the Lord, my husband was a -clever man; he had a good seat of business. I lost my right hand when -he died. I couldn’t carry it on. There was my two sons went for sogers, -and the others were above their business. He left a seat of business -worth a hundred pound; he served all up the New Kent-road. He was -beloved by all his people. He used to climb himself when I first had -him, but he left it off when he got children. I had my husband when I -was fifteen, and kept him forty years. Ah! he was well-beloved by all -around, except his children, and they behaved shameful. I said to his -eldest son, when he lay in the hospital, (asking your pardon, sir, -for mentioning it)--I says to his eldest son, ‘Billy,’ says I, ‘your -father’s very bad--why don’t you go to see him?’ ‘Oh,’ says he, ‘he’s -all right, he’s gettin’ better;’ and he was never the one to go and see -him once; and he never come to the funeral. - -“Billy thought I should come upon him after his death, but I never -troubled him for as much as a crumb of bread. - -“I never get spoken to on my roads, only some people say, ‘Good -morning,’ ‘There you are, old lady.’ They never asks me no questions -whatsomever. I never get run over, though I am very hard of hearing; -but I am forced to have my eyes here, there, and everywhere, to keep -out of the way of the carts and coaches. - -“Some days I goes to my crossing, and earns nothink at all: other -days it’s sometimes fourpence, sometimes sixpence. I earned fourpence -to-day, and I had a bit of snuff out of it. Why, I believe I did -yearn fivepence yesterday--I won’t tell no story. I got ninepence on -Sunday--that was a good day; but, God knows, that didn’t go far. I -yearned so much I couldn’t bring it home on Saturday--it almost makes -me laugh,--I yearned sixpence. - -“I goes every morning, winter or summer, frost or snow; and at the same -hour (five o’clock); people certainly don’t think of giving so much in -fine weather. Nobody ever mislested me, and I never mislested nobody. -If they gives me a penny, I thanks ’em; and if they gives me nothing, I -thanks ’em all the same. - -“If I was to go into the House, I shouldn’t live three days. It’s not -that I eat much--a very little is enough for me; but it’s the air I -should miss: to be shut up like a thief, I couldn’t live long, I know.” - - -THE OLD WOMAN CROSSING-SWEEPER WHO HAD A PENSIONER. - -This old dame is remarkable from the fact of being the chief support of -a poor deaf cripple, who is as much poorer than the crossing-sweeper as -she is poorer than Mrs. ----, in ---- street, who allows the sweeper -sixpence a-week. The crossing-sweeper is a rather stout old woman, with -a carneying tone, and constant curtsey. She complains, in common with -most of her class, of the present hard times, and reverts longingly to -the good old days when people were more liberal than they are now, and -had more to give. She says:-- - -“I was on my crossing before the police was made, for I am not able to -work, and only get helped by the people who knows me. Mr. ----, in the -square, gives me a shilling a-week; Mrs. ----, in ---- street, gives -me sixpence; (she has gone in the country now, but she has left it at -the oil-shop for me); that’s what I depinds upon, darlin’, to help pay -my rent, which is half-a-crown. My rent was three shillings, till the -landlord didn’t wish me to go, ’cause I was so punctual with my money. -I give a corner of my room to a poor cretur, who’s deaf as a beadle; -she works at the soldiers’ coats, and is a very good hand at it, and -would earn a good deal of money if she had constant work. She owed as -good as twelve shillings and sixpence for rent, poor thing, where -she was last, and the landlord took all her goods except her bed; she’s -got that, so I give her a corner of my room for charity’s sake. We must -look to one another: she’s as poor as a church mouse. I thought she -would be company for me, still a deaf person is but poor company to -one. She had that heavy sickness they call the cholera about five years -ago, and it fell in her side and in the side of her head too--that made -her deaf. Oh! she’s a poor object. She has been with me since the month -of February. I’ve lent her money out of my own pocket. I give her a -cup of tea or a slice of bread when I see she hasn’t got any. Then the -people up-stairs are kind to her, and give her a bite and a sup. - -“My husband was a soldier; he fought at the battle of Waterloo. -His pension was ninepence a-day. All my family are dead, except my -grandson, what’s in New Orleans. I expect him back this very month that -now we have: he gave me four pounds before he went, to carry me over -the last winter. - -“If the Almighty God pleases to send him back, he’ll be a great help to -me. He’s all I’ve got left. I never had but two children in all my life. - -“I worked in noblemen’s houses before I was married to my husband, who -is dead; but he came to be poor, and I had to leave my houses where I -used to work. - -“I took twopence-halfpenny yesterday, and threepence to-day; the day -before yesterday I didn’t take a penny. I never come out on Sunday; I -goes to Rosomon-street Chapel. Last Saturday I made one shilling and -sixpence; on Friday, sixpence. I dare say I make three shillings and -sixpence a-week, besides the one shilling and sixpence I gets allowed -me. I am forced to make a do of it somehow, but I’ve no more strength -left in me than this ould broom.” - - -THE CROSSING-SWEEPER WHO HAD BEEN A SERVANT-MAID. - -She is to be found any day between eight in the morning and seven in -the evening, sweeping away in a convulsive, jerky sort of manner, close -to ---- square, near the Foundling. She may be known by her pinched-up -straw bonnet, with a broad, faded, almost colourless ribbon. She has -weak eyes, and wears over them a brownish shade. Her face is tied up, -because of a gathering which she has on her head. She wears a small, -old plaid cloak, a clean checked apron, and a tidy printed gown. - -[Illustration: THE CROSSING-SWEEPER THAT HAS BEEN A MAID-SERVANT. - -[_From a Photograph._]] - -She is rather shy at first, but willing and obliging enough withal; and -she lives down Little ---- Yard, in Great ---- street. The “yard” that -is made like a mousetrap--small at the entrance, but amazingly large -inside, and dilapidated though extensive. - -Here are stables and a couple of blind alleys, nameless, or bearing -the same name as the yard itself, and wherein are huddled more people -than one could count in a quarter of an hour, and more children -than one likes to remember,--dirty children, listlessly trailing an -old tin baking-dish, or a worn-out shoe, tied to a piece of string; -sullen children, who turn away in a fit of sleepy anger if spoken to; -screaming children, setting all the parents in the “yard” at defiance; -and quiet children, who are arranging banquets of dirt in the reeking -gutters. - -The “yard” is devoted principally to costermongers. - -The crossing-sweeper lives in the top-room of a two-storied house, in -the very depth of the blind alley at the end of the yard. She has not -even a room to herself, but pays one shilling a-week for the privilege -of sleeping with a woman who gets her living by selling tapes in the -streets. - -“Ah!” says the sweeper, “poor woman, she _has_ a hard time of it; her -husband is in the hospital with a bad leg--in fact, he’s scarcely -ever out. If you could hear that woman cough, you’d never forget it. -She would have had to starve to-day if it hadn’t been for a person -who actually lent her a gown to pledge to raise her stock-money, poor -thing.” - -The room in which these people live has a sloping roof, and a -small-paned window on each side. For furniture, there were two chairs -and a shaky, three-legged stool, a deal table, and a bed rolled up -against the wall--nothing else. In one corner of the room lay the last -lump remaining of the seven pounds of coals. In another corner there -were herbs in pans, and two water-bottles without their noses. The most -striking thing in that little room was some crockery, the woman had -managed to save from the wreck of her things; among this, curiously -enough, was a soup-tureen, with its lid not even cracked. - -There _was_ a piece of looking-glass--a small three-cornered -piece--forming an almost equilateral triangle,--and the oldest, and -most rubbed and worn-out piece of a mirror that ever escaped the -dust-bin. - -The fireplace was a very small one, and on the table were two or -three potatoes and about one-fifth of a red herring, which the poor -street-seller had saved out of her breakfast to serve for her supper. -“Take my solemn word for it, sir,” said the sweeper, “and I wouldn’t -deceive you, that is all she will get besides a cup of weak tea when -she comes home tired at night.” - -The statement of this old sweeper is as follows:-- - -“My name is Mary ----. I live in ---- yard. I live with a person of the -name of ----, in the back attic; she gets her living by selling flowers -in pots in the street, but she is now doing badly. I pay her a shilling -a-week. - -“My parents were Welsh. I was in service, or maid-of-all-work, till I -got married. My husband was a seafaring man when I married him. After -we were married, he got his living by selling memorandum-almanack -books, and the like, about the streets. He was driven to that because -he had no trade in his hand, and he was obliged to do something for -a living. He did not make much, and over-exertion, with want of -nourishment, brought on a paralytic stroke. He had the first fit about -two years before he had the second; the third fit, which was the last, -he had on the Monday, and died on the Wednesday week. I have two -children still living. One of them is married to a poor man, who gets -his living in the streets; but as far as lays in his power he makes a -good husband and father. My other daughter is living with a niece of -mine, for I can’t keep her, sir; she minds the children. - -“My father was a journeyman shoemaker. He was killed; but I cannot -remember how--I was too young. I can’t recollect my mother. I was -brought up by an uncle and aunt till I was able to go to service. I -went out to service at five, to mind children under a nurse, and I was -in service till I got married. I had a great many situations; you see, -sir, I was forced to keep in place, because I had nowhere to go to, my -uncle and aunt not being able to keep me. I was never in noblemen’s -families, only trades-people’s. Service was very hard, sir, and so I -believe it continues. - -“I am fifty-five years of age, and I have been on the crossing fourteen -years; but just now it is very poor work indeed. Well, if I wishes for -bad weather, I’m only like other people, I suppose. I have no regular -customers at all; the only one I had left has lost his senses, sir. -Mr. H----, he used to allow us sixpence a-week; but he went mad, and -we don’t get it now. By us, I mean the three crossing-sweepers in the -square where I work. - -“Indeed, I like the winter-time, for the families is in. Though the -weather is more severe, yet you _do_ get a few more ha’pence. I take -more from the staid elderly people than from the young. At Christmas, I -think I took about eleven shillings, but certainly not more. The most -I ever made at that season was fourteen shillings. The worst about -Christmas is, that those who give much then generally hold their hand -for a week or two. - -“A shilling a-day would be as much as I want, sir. I have stood in the -square all day for a ha’penny, and I have stood here for nothing. One -week with another, I make two shillings in the seven days, after paying -for my broom. I have taken threppence ha’penny to-day. Yesterday--let -me see--well, it was threppence ha’penny, too; Monday I don’t remember; -but Sunday I recollect--it was fippence ha’penny. Years ago I made a -great deal more--nearly three times as much. - -“I come about eight o’clock in the morning, and go away about six or -seven; I am here every day. The boys used to come at one time with -their brooms, but they’re not allowed here now by the police. - -“I should not think crossings worth purchasing, unless people made a -better living on them than I do.” - -I gave the poor creature a small piece of silver for her trouble, and -asked her if that, with the threepence halfpenny, made a good day. She -answered heartily-- - -“I should like to see such another day to-morrow, sir. - -“Yes, winter is very much better than summer, only for the trial of -standing in the frost and snow, but we certainly _do_ get more then. -The families won’t be in town for three months to come yet. Ah! this -neighbourhood is nothing to what it was. By God’s removal, and by their -own removal, the good families are all gone. The present families are -not so liberal nor so wealthy. It is not the richest people that give -the most. Tradespeople, and ’specially gentlefolks who have situations, -are better to me than the nobleman who rides in his carriage. - -“I always go to Trinity Church, Gray’s-inn-road, about two doors from -the Welsh School--the Rev. Dr. Witherington preaches there. I always go -on Sunday afternoon and evening, for I can’t go in the morning; I can’t -get away from my crossing in time. I never omit a day in coming here, -unless I’m ill, or the snow is too heavy, or the weather too bad, and -then I’m obligated to resign. - -“I have no friends, sir, only my children; my uncle and aunt have been -dead a long time. I go to see my children on Sunday, or in the evening, -when I leave here. - -“After I leave I have a cup of tea, and after that I go to bed; very -frequently I’m in bed at nine o’clock. I have my cup of tea if I can -anyway get it; but I’m forced to go without _that_ sometimes. - -“When my sight was better, I used to be very partial to reading; but -I can’t see the print, sir, now. I used to read the Bible, and the -newspaper. Story-books I have read, too, but not many novels. Yes, -_Robinson Crusoe_ I know, but not the _Pilgrim’s Progress_. I’ve heard -of it; they tell me it is a very interesting book to read, but I never -had it. We never have any ladies or Scripture-readers come to our -lodgings; you see, we’re so out, they might come a dozen times and not -find us at home. - -“I wear out three brooms in a-week; but in the summer one will -last a fortnight. I give threepence ha’penny for them; there are -twopenny-ha’penny brooms, but they are not so good, they are liable -to have their handles come out. It is very fatiguing standing so many -hours; my legs aches with pain, and swells. I was once in Middlesex -Hospital for sixteen weeks with my legs. My eyes have been weak from a -child. I have got a gathering in my head from catching cold standing on -the crossing. I had the fever this time twelvemonth. I laid a fortnight -and four days at home, and seven weeks in the hospital. I took the -diarrhœa after that, and was six weeks under the doctor’s hands. I -used to do odd jobs, but my health won’t permit me now. I used to make -two or three shillings a-week by ’em, and get scraps and things. But I -get no broken victuals now. - -“I never get anything from servants; they don’t get more than they know -what to do with. - -“I don’t get a drop of beer once in a month. - -“I don’t know but what this being out may be the best thing, after all; -for if I was at home all my time, it would not agree with me.” - - -STATEMENT OF “OLD JOHN,” THE WATERMAN AT THE FARRINGDON-STREET -CAB-STAND, CONCERNING THE OLD BLACK CROSSING-SWEEPER WHO LEFT £800 TO -MISS WAITHMAN. - -“Yes, sir, I knew him for many year, though I never spoke to him in all -my life. He was a stoutish, thickset man, about my build, and used to -walk with his broom up and down--so.” - -Here “Old John” imitated the halt and stoop of an old man. - -“He used to touch his hat continually,” he went on. “‘Please remember -the poor black man,’ was his cry, never anything else. Oh yes, he -made a great deal of money. People gave more then than they do now. -Where they give one sixpence now, they _used_ to give ten. It’s just -the same by our calling. Lived humbly? Yes, I think he did; at all -events, he seemed to do so when he was on his crossing. He got plenty -of odds-and-ends from the corner _there_--Alderman Waithman’s, I mean; -he was a very sober, quiet sort of man. No, sir, nothing peculiar in -his dress. Some blacks are peculiar in their dress; but he would wear -anything he could get give him. They used to call him Romeo, I think. -Cur’ous name, sir; but the best man I ever knew was called Romeo, and -he was a black. - -“The crossing-sweeper had his regular customers; he knew their times, -and was there to the moment. Oh yes, he was always. Hail, rain, or -snow, he never missed. I don’t know how long he had the crossing. -I remember him ever since I was a postboy in Doctors’ Commons; I -knew him when I lived in Holborn, and I haven’t been away from this -neighbourhood since 1809. - -“No, sir, there’s no doubt about his leaving the money to Miss -Waithman. Everybody round about here knows it; just ask them, sir. Miss -Waithman (an old maid she were, sir) used to be very kind to him. He -used to sweep from Alderman Waithman’s (it’s the _Sunday Times_ now) -across to the opposite side of the way. - -“When he died, an old man, as had been a soldier, took possession -of the crossing. How did he get it? Why, I say, he _took it_. First -come, first sarved, sir; that’s their way. They never sell crossings. -Sometimes (for a lark) they shift, and then one stands treat--a gallon -of beer, or something of that sort. The perlice interfered with the -soldier--you know the sweepers is all forced to go if the perlice -interfere; now with us, sir, we are licensed, and they can’t make us -move on. They interfered, I say, with the old soldier, because he -used to get so drunk. Why, at a public-house close at hand, he would -spent seven, eight, and ten shillings on a night, three or four days -together. He used to gather so many blackguards round the crossing, -they were forced to move him at last. A young man has got it now; he -has had it three year. He is not always here, sometimes away for a week -at a stretch; but, you see, he knows the best times to come, and then -he is _sure_ to be here. The little boys come with their brooms now and -then, but the perlice always drive them away.” - - - - -3. THE ABLE-BODIED IRISH CROSSING-SWEEPER. - -THE OLD IRISH CROSSING-SWEEPER. - - -This man, a native of “County Corruk,” has been in England only two -years and a half. He wears a close-fitting black cloth cap over a shock -of reddish hair; round his neck he has a coloured cotton kerchief, of -the sort advertised as “Imitation Silk.” His black coat is much torn, -and his broom is at present remarkably stumpy. He waits quietly at the -post opposite St. ----’s Church, to receive whatever is offered him. -He is unassuming enough in his manner, and, as will be seen, not even -bearing any malice against his two enemies, “The Swatestuff Man” and -“The Switzer.” He says:-- - -[Illustration: THE IRISH CROSSING-SWEEPER. - -[_From a Photograph._]] - -“I’ve been at this crossin’ near upon two year. Whin I first come over -to England (about two years and a half ago), I wint a haymakin’, but, -you see, I couldn’t get any work; and afther thrampin’ about a good -bit, why my eyesight gettin’ very wake, and I not knowin’ what to do, I -took this crossin’. - -“How did I get it?--Will, sir, I wint walkin’ about and saw it, and -nobody on it. So one mornin’ I brought a broom wid me and stood here. -Yes, sir, I _was_ intherfered wid. The man with one arm--a Switzer they -calls him--he had had the crossin’ on Sundays for a long while gone, -and he didn’t like my bein’ here at all, at all. ‘B----y Irish’ he used -to call me, and other scandalizin’ names; and he and the swatestuff man -opposite, who was a friend of his, tried everythin’ they could to git -me off the crossin’. But sure I niver harrumed them at all, at all. - -“Yis, sir, I have my rigular custhomers: there’s Mr. ----, he’s gone -to Sydenham; he’s very kind, sir. He gives me a shilling a-month. He -left worrud with the sarvint while he’s away to give me a shilling on -the first day in every month. He gave me a letter to the Eye Hospital, -in Goulden Square, because of the wakeness of my eyesight; but they’ll -niver cure it at all, at all, sir, for wake eyes runs in my family. My -sister, sir, has wake eyes; she is working at Croydon. - -“Oh no, indeed, and it isn’t the gintlefolks that thry to get me off -the crossin’; they’d rather shupport me, sir. But the poor payple it is -that don’t like me. - -“Eighteenpince I’ve made in a day, and more: niver more than two -shillings, and sometimes not sixpence. Will, sir, I am not like the -others; I don’t run afther the ladies and gintlemen--I don’t persevere. -Yestherday I took sixpence, by chance, for takin’ some luggage for a -lady. The day before yestherday I took three ha’pence; but I think I -got somethin’ else for a bit of worruk thin. - -“Yes, winther is better than summer. I don’t know which people is the -most liberal. Sure, sir, I don’t think there’s much difference. Oh yes, -sir, young men are very liberal sometimes, and so are young ladies. -Perhaps old ladies or old gintlemen give the most at a time,--sometimes -sixpence,--perhaps more; but thin, sir, you don’t git anything else for -a long time. - -“The boy-sweepers annoy me very much, indeed; they use such -scandalizin’ worruds to me, and throw dirrut, they do. They know whin -the police is out of the way, so I git no purtiction. - -“Sure, sir, and I think it right that ivery person should attind the -worruship to which he belongs. I am a Catholic, sir, and attind mass -at St. Pathrick’s, near St. Giles’s, ivery Sunday, and I thry to be at -confission wonst a month. - -“Whin first I took to the crossin’, I was rather irrigular; but that -was because of the Switzer man--that’s the man with the one arm; he -used to say he would lock me up, and iverything. But I have been -rigular since. - -“I come in the morruning just before eight, in time to catch the -gintlefolks going into prayers; and I leave at half-past seven to eight -at night. I wait so late because I have to bring a gintleman wather for -his flowers, and that I do the last thing. - -“I live, sir, in ---- lane, behind St. Giles’s Church, in the -first-flure front, sir; and I pay one-and-threepence a-week. There -are three bids in the room. In one bid, a man, his wife, his mother, -and their little girl--Julia, they call her--sleep; in the other bid, -there’s a man and his wife and child. Yes, I am single, and have the -third bid to myself. I come from County Corruk; the others in the room -are all Irish, and come from County Corruk too. They sill fruit in the -sthreet; in the winther they sill onions, and sometimes oranges. - -“There a Scotch gintleman as brings me my breakfast every morning; -indeed, yes, and he brings it himself, he does. He has gone to -Scotland now, but he will be back in a week. He brings me some bread -and mate, and a pinny for a half pint of beer, sir. He has done it -almost all the time I have been here. - -“The Switzer man, sir, took out boards for the _Polytickner_, or some -place like that. He got fifteen shillings a-week, and used to come here -on Sundays. Yes, sir, _I_ come here on Sundays; but it is not better -than other days. Some people says to me, they would rather I went to -church; but I tells ’em I do; and sure, sir, afther mass, there’s no -harrum in a little sweepin’ between whiles. - -“No, sir, there’s not a crossin’-sweeper in Ould Ireland. Well, sir, I -niver was in Dublin; but I’ve been in Corruk, sir, and they don’t have -any crossin’ sweepers there. - -“Whin I git home of a night, sir, I am very tired; but I always offer -up my devotions before sleepin’. Ah, sir, I should niver have swipt -crossin’s if a friend of mine hadn’t died; he was collector of tolls in -Clarnykilts, and I used to be with him. He lost his situation, and so I -came to England. - -“The Switzer man, I think he used to sweep at eight o’clock, -just as the people were goin’ to prayers. Oh, sir, he was always -black-geyardin’ me. ‘Go back to your own counthry,’ says he--a furriner -himsilf, too. - -“Will, yes sir, I do wish for bad weather; a good wit day, and a dry -day afther, is the best. - -“Sure and they can’t turn me off my crossin’ only for my bad conduct, -and I thry to be quiet and take no notice. - -“Yis, sir, I have always been a church-goer, and I am seventy-five. I -used to have some good rigular customers, but somehow I haven’t seen -anythin’ of them for this last twelvemonth. Ah! it’s in the betther -neighbourhoods that people give rigularly. I niver get any broken -victuals. Three-and-sixpence is the outside of my earnings, taking one -week with the other. - -“What is the laste I ever took? Will, sir, for three days I haven’t -taken a farthin’. The worust week I iver had was thirteen or fourteen -pence altogether; the best week I iver had was the winter before -last--that harrud winter, sir, I remember takin’ seven shillings thin; -but the man at Portman-square makes the most. - -“Well, sir, I belave there’s some of every nation in the world as -sweeps crossin’s in London.” - - -THE FEMALE IRISH CROSSING-SWEEPER. - -In a street not far from Gordon-square and the New-road, I found this -poor old woman resting from her daily labour. She was sitting on the -stone ledge of the iron railings at the corner of the street, huddled -up in the way seemingly natural to old Irishwomen, her broom hidden -as much as possible under her petticoats. Her shawl was as tidy as -possible for its age. She was sixty-seven years, and had buried two -husbands and five children, fractured her ribs, and injured her groin, -and had nothing left to comfort her but her crossing, her ha’porth of -snuff, and her “drop of biled wather,” by which name she indicated her -“tay.” - -She was very civil and intelligent, and answered my inquiries very -readily, and with rather less circumlocution than the Irish generally -display. She seemed much hurt at the closing of the Old St. Pancras -churchyard. “They buried my child where they’ll never bury me, sir,” -she cried. - -She told the story of her accident with many involuntary movements -of her hand towards the injured part, and took a sparing pinch of -snuff from a little black snuff-box, inlaid with mother-of-pearl, for -which she said she had given a penny. She proceeded thus:--“I’m an -Irishwoman, sir, and it’s from Kinsale I come, twelve miles beyond -Corruk, to the left-hand side, a seaport town, and a great place for -fish. It’s fifty years the sixteenth of last June since I came in -St. Giles’s parish, and there my ildest child wint did. Buried she -is in Ould St. Pancras churchyarrud, where they’ll never bury me, -sir, for they’ve done away with burying in churchyarruds. That girl -was forty-one year of age the seventeenth of last February, born in -Stratford, below Bow, in Essex. Ah! I was comfortable there; I lived -there three year and abouts. I was in sarvice at Mr. ----’s, a Frinch -gintleman he was, and kept a school, where they taught Frinch and -English both; but I dare say they are all gone did years ago. He was a -very ould gintleman, and so was his lady; she was a North-of-England -lady, but very stout, and had no children but a son and daughter. I was -quite young when my aunt brought me over. My uncle was three year here -before my aunt, and he died at Whitechapel. I was bechuxt sixteen and -seventeen when I come over, and I reckon meself at sixty-seven come -next Christmas, as well as I can guess. I never had a mother, sir; she -died when I was only six months old. My father, sir, was maltster to -Mr. Walker the distiller, in Corruk. Ah! indeed, and my father was well -to do wonst. Early or late, wit or dry, he had a guinea a-week, but he -worruked day and night; he was to attind to the corun, and he would -have four min, or five or six, undther him, according as busy they -might be. My father has been did four-and-twinty year, and I wouldn’t -know a crature if I wint home. Father come over, sir, and wanted me to -go back very bad, but I wouldn’t. I was married thin, and had buried -some of my childer in St. Pancras; and for what should I lave England? - -“Oh! sir, I buried three in eight months,--two sons and their father. -My husband was two year and tin months keeping his bed; he has been -did fifteen years to the eighth of last March; but I’ve been married -again. - -“Siven childer I’ve had, and ounly two alive, and they’ve got enough -to do to manage for thimsilves. The boy, he follers the market, and my -daughter, she is along with her husband; sure he sills in the streets, -sir. I see very little of her,--she lives over in the Borough. - -“I think I’ll be afther going down to Kent, beyant Maidstone, a -hop-picking, if I can git as much as to take me down the road. - -“My daughter’s husband and me don’t agree, so I’m bitter not to see -them. - -“Ivery day, sir--ivery day in the week I am here. This morunning I was -here at eight--that was earlier than usual, but I came out because I -had not broke my fast with anything but a drop of wather, and that I -had two tumblers of it from the house at the corrunner. I intind to go -home and take two hirrings, and have a drop of biled wather--tay, I -mane, sir. - -“I come here at about half-past nine to half-past ten, but I’m gitting -a very bad leg. I goes home about five or six. - -“I have taken two ha’pennies this morning; thruppence I took yisterday; -the day before I took, I think, fourpence ha’penny; that was my taking -on Monday; on Sunday I mustered a shilling; on Saturday--I declare, -sir, I forgit--fourpence or thruppence, I suppose, but my frinds is -out of town very much. They gives me a penny rigular every Sunday, or -a ha’penny, and some tuppence. Of a Sunday in the good time I may take -eighteenpence or sixteenpence. - -“Oh, yes, of Christmas it’s better, it is--four or five shillings on a -Christmas-day. - -“On the Monday fortnight, before last Christmas twelvemonth, I had two -ribs broke, and one fractured, and my grine (groin) bone injured. Oh! -the pains that I feel even now, sir. I lived then in Phillip’s-gardens, -up there in the New-road. The policeman took me to the hospital. It -was eighteen days I niver got off my bid. I came out in the morunning -of the Christmas-eve. I hild on by the railings as I wint along, and I -thought I niver should git home. How I was knocked down was by a cart; -I had my eye bad thin, the lift one, and had a cloth over it. I was -just comin’ out of the archway of the courrut (close by the beer-shop) -away from Mr. ----’s house, when crossing to the green-grocer’s to git -two pound of praties for my supper, I didn’t see the cart comin’. I -was knocked down by the shaft. They called, and they called, and he -wouldn’t stop, and it wint over me, it did. It was loaded with cloth; -I don’t know if it wasn’t a Shoolbred’s cart, but the boy said to -the hospital-doctor and to the policeman it was heavily loaded. The -boy gave me a shilling, and that was all the money I received. For a -twelvemonth I couldn’t hardly walk. - -“On that Christmas-day I took four-and-tinpence, but I owed it all for -rint and things; and I’m sure it’s a good man that let me run it the -score. - -“Is it a shillin’ I iver git? Well, thin, sir, there’s one gintleman, -but he’s out of town--Sir George Hewitt--niver passes without givin’ me -a shillin’. - -“I have taken one-and-ninepence on a Sunday, and I’ve taken two -shillin’s. Upon my sowl, I’ve often gone home with three ha’pence and -tuppence. For this month past, put ivery day together, I haven’t taken -three shilling a-week. - -“I wear two brooms out in a week in bad wither, and thin p’rhaps I take -four to five shillin’, Sunday included; but for the three year since -here I’ve been on this crossin’, I niver took tin shillin’, sir, niver. - -“Yes, there was a man here before me: he had bad eyes, and he was -obligated to lave and go into the worrukhouse; he lost the sight of -one of his eyes when he came back again. I knew him sweepin’ here a -long time. When he come back, I said, ‘Father,’ says I, ‘I wint on -your crossin’.’ ‘Ah,’ says he, ‘you’ve got a bad crossin’, poor woman; -I wouldn’t go on it again, I wouldn’t;’ and I niver seen him since. I -don’t know whether he is living or not. - -“A wit day makes fourpence or fippence difference sometimes. - -“Indeed, I have heard of crossin’-sweepers makin’ so much and so much. -I hear people talkin’ about it, but, for my parrut, I wouldn’t give -heed to what they say. In Oxford-street, towards the Parruks, there was -a man, years ago, they say, by all accounts left a dale of money. - -“I am niver annoyed by boys. I don’t spake to none of them. I was in -sarvice till I got married, thin I used to sill fruit through Kentish -Town, Highgate, and Hampstead; but I niver sould in the streets, -sir, and had my rigular customers like any greengrocer. I had a good -connixion, I had; but, by gitting old and feeble, and sick, and not -being able to go about, I was forrussed to give it up, I was. I -couldn’t carry twelve pound upon my hid--no, not if I was to get a -sov’rin a-day for it, now. - -“I niver lave the crossin’. I haven’t got a frind; nor a day’s pleasure -I niver take. - -“Oh, yes, sir, I must have a pinch--this is my snuff-box. I take a -ha’porth a-day, and that’s the only comforrut I’ve got--that and a cup -of tay; for I can’t dthrink cocoa or coffee-tay. - -“My feeding is a bit of brid and butther. I haven’t bought a bit of -mate these three months. I used to git two penn’orth of bones and mate -at Mrs. Baker’s, down there; but mate is so dear, that they don’t have -’em now, and it’s ashamed I am of botherin’ thim so often. I frequintly -have a hirrin’. Oh dear! no sir. Wather is my dthrink. I can’t afforrud -no beer. Sometimes I have a penn’orth of gin and could water, and I -find it do me a worruld of good. Sometimes I git enough to eat, but -lately, indeed, I can’t git that. I declare I don’t know which people -give the most; the gintlemen give me more in wit wither, for then the -ladies, you see, can’t let their dresses out of their hands. - -“I am a Catholic, sir. I go to St. Pathrick’s sometimes, or I go to -Gordon-street Churruch. I don’t care which I go to--it’s all the same -to me; but I haven’t been to churruch for months. I’ve nothing to -charge mysilf wid; and, indeed, I haven’t been to confission for some -year. - -“Tradespeople are very kind, indeed they are. - -“Yes, I think I’ll go to Kint a hop-pickin’; and as for my crossin’, -I lave it, sir, just as it is. I go five miles beyant Maidstone. I -worruked fifteen years at Mr. ----; he was a pole-puller and binsman in -the hop-ground. - -“I’ve not been down there since the year before last. I was too poorly -after that accident. We make about eighteenpence, two shillin’s, or one -shillin’, ’cording as the hops is good. No lodging nor fire to pay; and -we git plinty of good milk chape there. I manage thin to save a little -money to hilp us in the winther. - -“I live in ---- street, Siven Dials; but I’m going to lave my son--we -can’t agree. We live in the two-pair back. I pay nothing a-week, only -bring home ivery ha’penny to hilp thim. Sometimes I spind a pinny or -tuppence out on mysilf. - -“My son is doin’ very badly. He sills fruit in the sthreets; but he’s -niver been used to it before; and he has pains in his limbs with so -much walking. He has no connixion, and with the sthrawbirries now he’s -forrused to walk about of a night as will as a day, for they won’t keep -till the morrunning; they all go mouldy and bad. My son has been used -to the bricklaying, sir: he can lit in a stove or a copper, or do a bit -of plasther or lath, or the like. His wife is a very just, clane, sober -woman, and he has got three good childer; there is Catherine, who is -named afther me, she is nearly five; Illen, two years and six months, -named after her mother; and Margaret, the baby, six months ould--and -she is called afther my daughter, who is did.” - - -4. THE OCCASIONAL CROSSING-SWEEPERS. - - -THE SUNDAY CROSSING-SWEEPER. - -“I’m a Sunday crossing-sweeper,” said an oyster-stall keeper, in -answer to my inquiries. “I mean by that, I only sweep a crossing on a -Sunday. I pitch in the Lorrimore-road, Newington, with a few oysters on -week-days, and I does jobs for the people about there, sich as cleaning -a few knives and forks, or shoes and boots, and windows. I’ve been in -the habit of sweeping a crossing about four or five years. - -“I never knowed my father, he died when I was a baby. He was a -’terpreter, and spoke seven different languages. My father used to go -with Bonaparte’s army, and used to ’terpret for him. He died in the -South of France. I had a brother, but he died quite a child, and my -mother supported me and a sister by being cook in a gentleman’s family: -we was put out to nurse. My mother couldn’t afford to put me to school, -and so I can’t read nor write. I’m forty-one years old. - -“The fust work I ever did was being boy at a pork-butcher’s. I used to -take out the meat wot was ordered. At last my master got broke up, and -I was discharged from my place, and I took to sellin’ a few sprats. I -had no thoughts of taking to a crossing then. I was ten year old. I -remember I give two shillings for a ‘shallow;’ that’s a flat basket -with two handles; they put ’em a top of ‘well-baskets,’ them as can -carry a good load. A well-basket’s almost like a coffin; it’s a long -un like a shallow, on’y it’s a good deal deeper--about as deep as a -washin’ tub. I done very fair with my sprats till they got dear and -come up very small, so then I was obliged to get a few plaice, and -then I got a few baked ’taters and sold them. I hadn’t money enough -to buy a tin--I could a got one for eight shillings--so I put ’em in -a cross-handle basket, and carried ’em round the streets, and into -public-houses, and cried ‘Baked taters, all hot!’ I used only to do -this of a night, and it brought me about four or five shillings a-week. -I used to fill up the day by going round to gentlemen’s houses where -I was known, to run for errands and clean knives and boots, and that -brought me sich a thing as four shillings a-week more altogether. - -“I never had no idea then of sweeping a crossing of a Sunday; but at -last I was obliged to push to it. I kept on like this for many years, -and at last a gentleman named Mr. Jackson promised to buy me a tin, but -he died. My mother went blind through a blight; that was the cause of -my fust going out to work, and so I had to keep her; but I didn’t mind -that: I thought it was my duty so to do. - -“About ten years ago I got married; my wife used to go out washing -and ironing. I thought two of us would get on better than one, and -she didn’t mind helpin’ me to keep my mother, for I was determined my -mother shouldn’t go into the workhouse so long as I could help it. - -“A year or two after I got married, I found I must do something more to -help to keep home, and then I fust thought of sweepin’ a crossing on -Sundays; so I bought a heath broom for twopence-ha’penny, and I pitched -agin’ the Canterbury Arms, Kennington; it was between a baker’s shop -and a public-house and butcher’s; they told me they’d all give me -something if I’d sweep the crossing reg’lar. - -“The best places is in front of chapels and churches, ’cause you can -take more money in front of a church or a chapel than wot you can in a -private road, ’cos they look at it more, and a good many thinks when -you sweeps in front of a public-house that you go and spend your money -inside in waste. - -“The first Sunday I went at it, I took eighteenpence. I began at -nine o’clock in the morning and stopped till four in the afternoon. -The publican give fourpence, and the baker sixpence, and the butcher -threepence, so that altogether I got above a half-crown. I stopped at -this crossing a year, and I always knocked up about two shillings or a -half-crown on the Sunday. I very seldom got anythink from the ladies; -it was most all give by the gentlemen. Little children used sometimes -to give me ha’pence, but it was when their father give it to ’em; the -little children like to do that sort of thing. - -“The way I come to leave this crossing was this here: the road was -being repaired, and they shot down a lot of stones, so then I couldn’t -sweep no crossing. I looked out for another place, and I went opposite -the Duke of Sutherland public-house in the Lorrimore-road. I swept -there one Sunday, and I got about one-and-sixpence. While I was -sweeping this crossing, a gentleman comes up to me, and he axes me if -I ever goes to chapel or church; and I tells him, ‘Yes;’ I goes to -church, wot I’d been brought up to; and then he says, ‘You let me see -you at St. Michael’s Church, Brixton, and I’ll ’courage you, and you’ll -do better if you come up and sweep in front there of a Sunday instead -of where you are; you’ll be sure to get more money, and get better -’couraged. It don’t matter what you do,’ he says, ‘as long as it brings -you in a honest crust; anythink’s better than thieving.’ And then the -gent gives me sixpence and goes away. - -“As soon as he’d gone I started off to his church, and got there just -after the people was all in. I left my broom in the churchyard. When I -got inside the church, I could see him a-sitten jest agin the communion -table, so I walks to the free seats and sets down right close again -the communion table myself, for his pew was on my right, and he saw -me directly and looked and smiled at me. As he was coming out of the -church he says, says he, ‘As long as I live, if you comes here on a -Sunday reg’lar I shall always ’courage you.’ - -“The next Sunday I went up to the church and swept the crossing, and he -see me there, but he didn’t give me nothink till the church was over, -and then he gave me a shilling, and the other people give me about -one-and-sixpence; so I got about two-and-sixpence altogether, and I -thought that was a good beginning. - -“The next Sunday the gen’elman was ill, but he didn’t forget me. He -sent me sixpence by his servant, and I got from the other people about -two shillings more. I never see that gentleman after, for he died on -the Saturday. His wife sent for me on the Sunday; she was ill a-bed, -and I see one of the daughters, and she gave me sixpence, and said I -was to be there on Monday morning. I went on the Monday, and the lady -was much worse, and I see the daughter again. She gave me a couple of -shirts, and told me to come on the Friday, and when I went on that -day I found the old lady was dead. The daughter gave me a coat, and -trousers, and waistcoat. - -“After the daughters had buried the father and mother they moved. I -kept on sweeping at the church, till at last things got so bad that I -come away, for nobody give me nothink. The houses about there was so -damp that people wouldn’t live in ’em. - -“So then I come up into Lorrimore-road, and there I’ve been ever since. -I don’t get on wonderful well there. Sometimes I don’t get above -sixpence all day, but it’s mostly a shilling or so. The most I’ve took -is about one-and-sixpence. The reason why I stop there is, because I’m -known there, you see. I stands there all the week selling highsters, -and the people about there give me a good many jobs. Besides, the road -is rather bad there, and they like to have a clean crossing of a Sunday. - -“I don’t get any more money in the winter (though it’s muddier) than -I do in the summer; the reason is, ’cause there isn’t so many people -stirring about in the winter as there is in the summer. - -“One broom will carry me over three Sundays, and I gives -twopence-ha’penny a-piece for ’em. Sometimes the people bring me -out at my crossing--’specially in cold weather--a mug of hot tea -and some bread and butter, or a bit of meat. I don’t know any other -crossing-sweeper; I never ’sociates with nobody. I always keeps my own -counsel, and likes my own company the best. - -“My wife’s been dead five months, and my mother six months; but I’ve -got a little boy seven year old; he stops at school all day till I go -home at night, and then I fetches him home. I mean to do something -better with him than give him a broom: a good many people would set him -on a crossing; but I mean to keep him at school. I want to see him read -and write well, because he’ll suit for a place then. - -“There’s some art in sweeping a crossing even. That is, you mustn’t -sweep too hard, ’cos if you do, you wears a hole right in the road, and -then the water hangs in it. It’s the same as sweeping a path; if you -sweeps too hard you wears up the stones. - -“To do it properly, you must put the end of the broom-handle in the -palm of your right hand, and lay hold of it with your left, about -halfway down; then you takes half your crossing, and sweeps on one -side till you gets over the road; then you turns round and comes back -doing the other half. Some people holds the broom before ’em, and keeps -swaying it back’ards and for’ards to sweep the width of the crossing -all in one stroke, but that ain’t sich a good plan, ’cause you’re apt -to splash people that’s coming by; and besides, it wears the road in -holes and wears out the broom so quick. I always use my broom steady. I -never splash nobody. - -“I never tried myself, but I’ve seen some crossin’-sweepers as could -do all manner of things in mud, sich as diamonds, and stars, and the -moon, and letters of the alphabet; and once in Oxford-street I see our -Saviour on his cross in mud, and it was done well, too. The figure -wasn’t done with the broom, it was done with a pointed piece of stick; -it was a boy as I see doin’ it, about fifteen. He didn’t seem to take -much money while I was a-looking at him. - -“I don’t think I should a took to crossin’ sweeping if I hadn’t got -married; but when I’d got a couple of children (for I’ve had a girl -die; if she’d lived she’d a been eight year old now,) I found I must do -a somethin’, and so I took to the broom.” - - -_B. The Afflicted Crossing-Sweepers._ - - -THE WOODEN-LEGGED SWEEPER. - -This man lives up a little court running out of a wide, second-rate -street. It is a small court, consisting of some half-dozen houses, all -of them what are called by courtesy “private.” - -I inquired at No. 3 for John ----; “The first-floor back, if you -please, sir;” and to the first-floor back I went. - -Here I was answered by a good-looking and intelligent young woman, with -a baby, who said her husband had not yet come home, but would I walk -in and wait? I did so; and found myself in a very small, close room, -with a little furniture, which the man called “his few sticks,” and -presently discovered another child--a little girl. The girl was very -shy in her manner, being only two years and two months old, and as her -mother said, very ailing from the difficulty of cutting her teeth, -though the true cause seemed to be want of proper nourishment and -fresh air. The baby was a boy--a fine, cheerful, good-tempered little -fellow, but rather pale, and with an unnaturally large forehead. The -mantelpiece of the room was filled with little ornaments of various -sorts, such as bead-baskets, and over them hung a series of black -profiles--not portraits of either the crossing-sweeper or any of his -family, but an odd lot of heads, which had lost their owners many a -year, and served, in company with a little red, green, and yellow -scripture-piece, to keep the wall from looking bare. Over the door -(inside the room) was nailed a horse-shoe, which, the wife told me, -had been put there by her husband, for luck. - -A bed, two deal tables, a couple of boxes, and three chairs, formed -the entire furniture of the room, and nearly filled it. On the -window-frame was hung a small shaving-glass; and on the two boxes -stood a wicker-work apology for a perambulator, in which I learnt the -poor crippled man took out his only daughter at half-past four in the -morning. - -“If some people was to see that, sir,” said the sweeper, when he -entered and saw me looking at it, “they would, and in fact they _do_ -say, ‘Why, you can’t be in want.’ Ah! little they know how we starved -and pinched ourselves before we could get it.” - -There was a fire in the room, notwithstanding the day was very hot; -but the window was wide open, and the place tolerably ventilated, -though oppressive. I have been in many poor people’s “places,” but -never remember one so poor in its appointments and yet so _free_ from -effluvia. - -The crossing-sweeper himself was a very civil sort of man, and in -answer to my inquiries said:-- - -“I know that I do as I ought to, and so I don’t feel hurt at standing -at my crossing. I have been there four years. I found the place vacant. -My wife, though she looks very well, will never be able to do any hard -work; so we sold our mangle, and I took to the crossing: but we’re not -in debt, and nobody can’t say nothing to us. I like to go along the -streets free of such remarks as is made by people to whom you owes -money. I had a mangle in ---- Yard, but through my wife’s weakness I -was forced to part with it. I was on the crossing a short time before -that, for I knew that if I parted with my mangle and things before I -knew whether I could get a living at the crossing I couldn’t get my -mangle back again. - -“We sold the mangle only for a sovereign, and we gave two-pound-ten -for it; we sold it to the same man that we bought it of. About six -months ago I managed for to screw and save enough to buy that little -wicker chaise, for I can’t carry the children because of my one leg, -and of course the mother can’t carry them both out together. There was -a man had the crossing I’ve got; he died three or four years before I -took it; but he didn’t depend on the crossing--he did things for the -tradespeople about, such as carpet-beating, messages, and so on. - -“When I first took the crossing I did very well. It happened to be a -very nasty, dirty season, and I took a good deal of money. Sweepers are -not always civil, sir. - -“I wish I had gone to one of the squares, though. But I think after ----- street is paved with stone I shall do better. I am certain I never -taste a bit of meat from one week’s end to the other. The best day I -ever made was five-and-sixpence or six shillings; it was the winter -before last. If you remember, the snow laid very thick on the ground, -and the sudden thaw made walking so uncomfortable, that I did very -well. I have taken as little as sixpence, fourpence, and even twopence. -Last Thursday I took two ha’pence all day. Take one week with the -other, seven or eight shillings is the very outside. - -“I don’t know how it is, but some people who used to give me a penny, -don’t now. The boys who come in wet weather earn a great deal more -than I do. I once lost a good chance, sir, at the corner of the street -leading to Cavendish-square. There’s a bank, and they pay a man seven -shillings a-week to sweep the crossing: a butcher in Oxford Market -spoke for me; but when I went up, it unfortunately turned out that I -was not fit, from the loss of my leg. The last man they had there they -were obliged to turn away--he was so given to drink. - -“I think there are some rich crossing-sweepers in the city, about -the Exchange; but you won’t find them now during this dry weather, -except in by-places. In wet weather, there are two or three boys who -sweep near my crossing, and take all my earnings away. There’s a great -able-bodied man besides--a fellow strong enough to follow the plough. -I said to the policeman, ‘Now, ain’t this a shame?’ and the policeman -said, ‘Well, _he_ must get his living as well as you.’ I’m always -civil to the police, and they’re always civil to me--in fact, I think -sometimes I’m too civil--I’m not rough enough with people. - -“You soon tell whether to have any hopes of people coming across. I can -tell a gentleman directly I see him. - -“Where I stand, sir, I could get people in trouble everlasting; there’s -all sorts of thieving going on. I saw the other day two or three -respectable persons take a purse out of an old lady’s pocket before -the baker’s shop at the corner; but I can’t say a word, or they would -come and throw me into the road. If a gentleman gives me sixpence, he -don’t give me any more for three weeks or a month; but I don’t think -I’ve more than three or four gentlemen as gives me that. Well, you can -scarcely tell the gentleman from the clerk, the clerks are such great -swells now. - -“Lawyers themselves dress very plain; those great men who don’t come -every day, because they’ve clerks to do their business for them, they -give most. People hardly ever stop to speak unless it is to ask you -where places are--you might be occupied at that all day. I manage to -pay my rent out of what I take on Sunday, but not lately--this weather -religious people go pleasuring. - -“No, I don’t go now--the fact is, I’d like to go to church, if I could, -but when I come home I am tired; but I’ve got books here, and they do -as well, sir. I read a little and write a little. - -“I lost my leg through a swelling--there was no chloroform then. I -was in the hospital three years and a half, and was about fifteen or -sixteen when I had it off. I always feel the sensation of the foot, -and more so at change of weather. I feel my toes moving about, and -everything; sometimes, it’s just as if the calf of my leg was itching. -I _feel_ the rain coming; when I see a cloud coming my leg shoots, and -I know we shall have rain. - -“My mother was a laundress--my father has been dead nineteen years my -last birthday. My mother was subject to fits, so I was forced to stop -at home to take care of the business. - -“I don’t want to get on better, but I always think, if sickness or -anything comes on---- - -“I am at my crossing at half-past eight; at half-past eleven I come -home to dinner. I go back at one or two till seven. - -“Sometimes I mind horses and carts, but the boys get all that business. -One of these little customers got sixpence the other day for only -opening the door of a cab. I don’t know how it is they let these little -boys be about; if I was the police, I wouldn’t allow it. - -“I think it’s a blessing, having children--(referring to his little -girl)--that child wants the gravy of meat, or an egg beaten up, but -she can’t get it. I take her out every morning round Euston-square and -those open places. I get out about half-past four. It is early, but if -it benefits her, that’s no odds.” - -ONE-LEGGED SWEEPER AT CHANCERY-LANE. - -“I don’t know what induced me to take that crossing, except it was that -no one was there, and the traffic was so good--fact is, the traffic is -too good, and people won’t stop as they cross over, they’re very glad -to get out of the way of the cabs and the omnibuses. - -“Tradespeople never give me anything--not even a bit of bread. The -only thing I get is a few cuttings, such as crusts of sandwiches and -remains of cheese, from the public-house at the corner of the court. -The tradespeople are as distant to me now as they were when I came, but -if I should pitch up a tale I should soon get acquainted with them. - -“We have lived in this lodging two years and a half, and we pay -one-and-ninepence a-week, as you may see from the rent-book, and that I -manage to earn on Sundays. We owe four weeks now, and, thank God, it’s -no more. - -“I was born, sir, in ---- street, Berkeley-square, at Lord ----’s -house, when my mother was minding the house. I have been used to London -all my life, but not to this part; I have always been at the west-end, -which is what I call the best end. - -“I did not like the idea of crossing-sweeping at first, till I reasoned -with myself, Why should I mind? I’m not doing any hurt to anybody. I -don’t care at all now--I know I’m doing what I ought to do. - -“A man had better be killed out of the way than be disabled. It’s not -pleasant to know that my wife is suckling that great child, and, though -she is so weakly, she can’t get no meat. - -[Illustration: THE ONE-LEGGED SWEEPER AT CHANCERY-LANE. - -[_From a Photograph._]] - -“I’ve been knocked down twice, sir--both times by cabs. The last time -it was a fortnight before I could get about comfortably again. The fool -of a fellow was coming along, not looking at his horse, but talking -to somebody on the cab-rank. The place was as free as this room, if -he had only been looking before him. Nobody hollered till I was down, -but plenty hollered then. Ah, I often notice such carelessness--it’s -really shameful. I don’t think those ‘shofuls’ (Hansoms) should be -allowed--the fact is, if the driver is not a tall man he can’t see his -horse’s head. - -“A nasty place is end of ---- street: it narrows so suddenly. There’s -more confusion and more bother about it than any place in London. When -two cabs gets in at once, one one way and one the other, there’s sure -to be a row to know which was the first in.” - - -THE MOST SEVERELY-AFFLICTED OF ALL THE CROSSING-SWEEPERS. - -Passing the dreary portico of the Queen’s Theatre, and turning to the -right down Tottenham Mews, we came upon a flight of steps leading up -to what is called “The Gallery,” where an old man, gasping from the -effects of a lung disease, and feebly polishing some old harness, -proclaimed himself the father of the sweeper I was in search of, and -ushered me into the room where he lay a-bed, having had a “very bad -night.” - -The room itself was large and of a low pitch, stretching over some -stables; it was very old and creaky (the sweeper called, it “an old -wilderness”), and contained, in addition to two turn-up bedsteads, that -curious medley of articles which, in the course of years, an old and -poor couple always manage to gather up. There was a large lithograph -of a horse, dear to the remembrance of the old man from an indication -of a dog in the corner. “The very spit of the one I had for years; -it’s a real portrait, sir, for Mr. Hanbart, the printer, met me one -day and sketched him.” There was an etching of Hogarth’s in a black -frame; a stuffed bird in a wooden case, with a glass before it; a piece -of painted glass, hanging in a place of honour, but for which no name -could be remembered, excepting that it was “of the old-fashioned sort.” -There were the odd remnants, too, of old china ornaments, but very -little furniture; and, finally, a kitten. - -The father, worn out and consumptive, had been groom to Lord -Combermere. “I was with him, sir, when he took Bonyparte’s house at -Malmasong. I could have had a pension then if I’d a liked, but I was -young and foolish, and had plenty of money, and we never know what we -may come to.” - -The sweeper, although a middle-aged man, had all the appearance of -a boy--his raw-looking eyes, which he was always wiping with a piece -of linen rag, gave him a forbidding expression, which his shapeless, -short, bridgeless nose tended to increase. But his manners and habits -were as simple in their character as those of a child; and he spoke of -his father’s being angry with him for not getting up before, as if he -were a little boy talking of his nurse. - -He walks, with great difficulty, by the help of a crutch; and the sight -of his weak eyes, his withered limb, and his broken shoulder (his old -helpless mother, and his gasping, almost inaudible father,) form a most -painful subject for compassion. - -The crossing-sweeper gave me, with no little meekness and some slight -intelligence, the following statement:-- - -“I very seldom go out on a crossin’ o’ Sundays. I didn’t do much good -at it. I used to go to church of a Sunday--in fact, I do now when I’m -well enough. - -“It’s fifteen year next January since I left Regent-street. I was there -three years, and then I went on Sundays occasionally. Sometimes I -used to get a shilling, but I have given it up now--it didn’t answer; -besides, a lady who was kind to me found me out, and said she wouldn’t -do any more for me if I went out on Sundays. She’s been dead these -three or four years now. - -“When I was at Regent-street I might have made twelve shillings a-week, -or something thereabout. - -“I am seven-and-thirty the 26th day of last month, and I have been lame -six-and-twenty years. My eyes have been bad ever since my birth. The -scrofulous disease it was that lamed me--it come with a swelling on the -knee, and the outside wound broke about the size of a crown piece, and -a piece of bone come from it; then it gathered in the inside and at the -top. I didn’t go into the hospital then, but I was an out-patient, for -the doctor said a close confined place wouldn’t do me no good. He said -that the seaside would, though; but my parents couldn’t afford to send -me, and that’s how it is. I _did_ go to Brighton and Margate nine years -after my leg was bad, but it was too late then. - -“I have been in Middlesex Hospital, with a broken collar-bone, when I -was knocked down by a cab. I was in a fortnight there, and I was in -again when I hurt my leg. I was sweeping my crossin’ when the top came -off my crutch. I fell back’ards, and my leg doubled under me. They had -to carry me there. - -“I went into the Middlesex Hospital for my eyes and leg. I was in a -month, but they wouldn’t keep me long, there’s no cure for me. - -“My leg is very painful, ’specially at change of weather. Sometimes -I don’t get an hour’s sleep of a night--it was daylight this morning -before I closed my eyes. - -“I went on the crossing first because my parents couldn’t keep me, not -being able to keep theirselves. I thought it was the best thing I could -do, but it’s like all other things, it’s got very bad now. I used to -manage to rub along at first--the streets have got shockin’ bad of late. - -“To tell the truth, I was turned away from Regent-street by Mr. Cook, -the furrier, corner of Argyle Street. I’ll tell you as far as I was -told. He called me into his passage one night, and said I must look out -for another crossin’, for a lady, who was a very good customer of his, -refused to come while I was there; my heavy afflictions was such that -she didn’t like the look of me. I said, ‘Very well;’ but because I come -there next day and the day after that, he got the policeman to turn -me away. Certainly the policeman acted very kindly, but he said the -gentleman wanted me removed, and I must find another crossing. - -“Then I went down Charlotte-street, opposite Percy Chapel, at the -corner of Windmill-street. After that I went to Wells-street, by -getting permission of the doctor at the corner. He thought that it -would be better for me than Charlotte-street, so he let me come. - -“Ah! there ain’t so many crossing-sweepers as there was; I think -they’ve done away with a great many of them. - -“When I first went to Wells-street, I did pretty well, because there -was a dress-maker’s at the corner, and I used to get a good deal from -the carriages that stopped before the door. I used to take five or six -shillings in a day then, and I don’t take so much in a week now. I tell -you what I made this week. I’ve made one-and-fourpence, but it’s been -so wet, and people are out of town; but, of course, it’s not always -alike--sometimes I get three-and-sixpence or four shillings. Some -people gives me a sixpence or a fourpenny-bit; I reckons that all in. - -“I am dreadful tired when I comes home of a night. Thank God my other -leg’s all right! I wish the t’other was as strong, but it never will be -now. - -“The police never try to turn me away; they’re very friendly, they’ll -pass the time of day with me, or that, from knowing me so long in -Oxford-street. - -“My broom sometimes serves me a month; of course, they don’t last long -now it’s showery weather. I give twopence-halfpenny a piece for ’em, or -threepence. - -“I don’t know who gives me the most; my eyes are so bad I can’t see. I -think, though, upon an average, the gentlemen give most. - -“Often I hear the children, as they are going by, ask their mothers for -something to give to me; but they only say, ‘Come along--come along!’ -It’s very rare that they lets the children have a ha’penny to give me. - -“My mother is seventy the week before next Christmas. She can’t do much -now; she does though go out on Wednesdays or Saturdays, but that’s to -people she’s known for years who is attached to her. She does her work -there just as she likes. - -“Sometimes she gets a little washing--sometimes not. This week she had -a little, and was forced to dry it indoors; but that makes ’em half -dirty again. - -“My father’s breath is so bad that he can’t do anything except little -odd jobs for people down here; but they’ve got the knack now, a good -many on ’em, of doin’ their own. - -“We have lived here fifteen years next September; it’s a long time to -live in such an old wilderness, but my old mother is a sort of woman -as don’t like movin’ about, and I don’t like it. Some people are -everlasting on the move. - -“When I’m not on my crossin’ I sit poking at home, or make a job of -mending my clothes. I mended these trousers in two or three places. - -“It’s all done by feel, sir. My mother says it’s a good thing we’ve got -our feeling at least, if we haven’t got our eyesight.” - - -THE NEGRO CROSSING-SWEEPER, WHO HAD LOST BOTH HIS LEGS. - -This man sweeps a crossing in a principal and central thoroughfare when -the weather is cold enough to let him walk; the colder the better, -he says, as it “numbs his stumps like.” He is unable to follow this -occupation in warm weather, as his legs feel “just like corns,” and -he cannot walk more than a mile a-day. Under these circumstances he -takes to begging, which he thinks he has a perfect right to do, as he -has been left destitute in what is to him almost a strange country, -and has been denied what he terms “his rights.” He generally sits -while begging, dressed in a sailor shirt and trousers, with a black -neckerchief round his neck, tied in the usual nautical knot. He places -before him the placard which is given beneath, and never moves a muscle -for the purpose of soliciting charity. He always appears scrupulously -clean. - -I went to see him at his home early one morning--in fact, at -half-past eight, but he was not then up. I went again at nine, and -found him prepared for my visit in a little parlour, in a dirty and -rather disreputable alley running out of a court in a street near -Brunswick-square. The negro’s parlour was scantily furnished with -two chairs, a turn-up bedstead, and a sea-chest. A few odds and ends -of crockery stood on the sideboard, and a kettle was singing over -a cheerful bit of fire. The little man was seated on a chair, with -his stumps of legs sticking straight out. He showed some amount of -intelligence in answering my questions. We were quite alone, for he -sent his wife and child--the former a pleasant-looking “half-caste,” -and the latter the cheeriest little crowing, smiling “piccaninny” I -have ever seen--he sent them out into the alley, while I conversed with -himself. - -His life is embittered by the idea that he has never yet had “his -rights”--that the owners of the ship in which his legs were burnt -off have not paid him his wages (of which, indeed, he says, he never -received any but the five pounds which he had in advance before -starting), and that he has been robbed of 42_l._ by a grocer in -Glasgow. How true these statements may be it is almost impossible to -say, but from what he says, some injustice seems to have been done him -by the canny Scotchman, who refuses him his “pay,” without which he is -determined “never to leave the country.” - -“I was on that crossing,” he said, “almost the whole of last winter. It -was very cold, and I had nothing at all to do; so, as I passed there, -I asked the gentleman at the baccer-shop, as well as the gentleman at -the office, and I asked at the boot-shop, too, if they would let me -sweep there. The policeman wanted to turn me away, but I went to the -gentleman inside the office, and he told the policeman to leave me -alone. The policeman said first, ‘You must go away,’ but I said, ‘I -couldn’t do anything else, and he ought to think it a charity to let me -stop.’ - -“I don’t stop in London very long, though, at a time; I go to Glasgow, -in Scotland, where the owners of the ship in which my legs were burnt -off live. I served nine years in the merchant service and the navy. I -was born in Kingston, in Jamaica; it is an English place, sir, so I am -counted as not a foreigner. I’m different from them Lascars. I went to -sea when I was only nine years old. The owners is in London who had -that ship. I was cabin-boy; and after I had served my time I became -cook, or when I couldn’t get the place of cook I went before the mast. -I went as head cook in 1851, in the _Madeira_ barque; she used to be a -West Indy trader, and to trade out when I belonged to her. We got down -to 69 south of Cape Horn; and there we got almost froze and perished to -death. That is the book what I sell.” - -The “Book” (as he calls it) consists of eight pages, printed on paper -the size of a sheet of note paper; it is entitled-- - - “BRIEF SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF - - EDWARD ALBERT! - - A native of Kingston, Jamaica. - - Showing the hardships he underwent and the sufferings he endured in - having both legs amputated. - - HULL: - - W. HOWE, PRINTER.” - -It is embellished with a portrait of a black man, which has evidently -been in its time a comic “nigger” of the Jim-Crow tobacco-paper kind, -as is evidenced by the traces of a tobacco-pipe, which has been -unskilfully erased. - -The “Book” itself is concocted from an affidavit made by Edward Albert -before “P. Mackinlay, Esq., one of Her Majesty’s Justices of the Peace -for the country (so it is printed) of Lanark.” - -I have seen the affidavit, and it is almost identical with the -statement in the “book,” excepting in the matter of grammar, which has -rather suffered on its road to Mr. Howe, the printer. - -The following will give an idea of the matter of which it is composed:-- - - “In February, 1851, I engaged to serve as cook on board the barque - _Madeira_, of Glasgow, Captain J. Douglas, on her voyage from - Glasgow to California, thence to China, and thence home to a port of - discharge in the United Kingdom. I signed articles, and delivered up - my register-ticket as a British seaman, as required by law. I entered - the service on board the said vessel, under the said engagement, and - sailed with that vessel on the 18th of February, 1851. I discharged - my duty as cook on board the said vessel, from the date of its having - left the Clyde, until June the same year, in which month the vessel - rounded Cape Horne, at that time my legs became frost bitten, and I - became in consequence unfit for duty. - - “In the course of the next day after my limbs became affected, the - master of the vessel, and mate, took me to the ship’s oven, in order, - as they said, to cure me; the oven was hot at the time, a fowl that - was roasting therein having been removed in order to make room for my - feet, which was put into the oven; in consequence of the treatment, my - feet burst through the intense swelling, and mortification ensued. - - “The vessel called, six weeks after, at Valpariso, and I was there - taken to an hospital, where I remained five months and a half. Both my - legs were amputated three inches below my knees soon after I went to - the hospital at Valpariso. I asked my master for my wages due to me, - for my service on board the vessel, and demanded my register-ticket; - when the captain told me I should not recover, that the vessel could - not wait for me, and that I was a dead man, and that he could not - discharge a dead man; and that he also said, that as I had no friends - there to get my money, he would only put a little money into the - hands of the consul, which would be applied in burying me. On being - discharged from the hospital I called on the consul, and was informed - by him that master had not left any money. - - “I was afterwards taken on board one of her Majesty’s ships, the - _Driver_, Captain Charles Johnston, and landed at Portsmouth; from - thence I got a passage to Glasgow, ware I remained three months. - Upon supplication to the register-office for seamen, in London, my - register-ticket has been forwarded to the Collector of Customs, - Glasgow; and he is ready to deliver it to me upon obtaining the - authority of the Justices of the Peace, and I recovered the same under - the 22nd section of the General Merchant Seaman’s Act. Declares I - cannot write. - - “(Signed) DAVID MACKINLAY, J. P. - - “The Justices having considered the foregoing information and - declaration, finds that Edward Albert, therein named the last-register - ticket, sought to be covered under circumstances which, so far as - he was concerned, were unavoidable, and that no fraud was intended - or committed by him in reference thereto, therefore authorised the - Collector and Comptroller of Customs at the port of Glasgow to deliver - to the said Edward Albert the register-ticket, sought to be recovered - by him all in terms of 22nd section of the General Merchant Seamen’s - Act. - - “(Signed) DAVID MACKINLAY, J. P. - - “Glasgow, Oct. 6th, 1852. - - “Register Ticket, No. 512, 652, age 25 years.” - -“I could make a large book of my sufferings, sir, if I liked,” he said, -“and I will disgrace the owners of that ship as long as they don’t give -me what they owe me. - -“I will never leave England or Scotland until I get my rights; but -they says money makes money, and if I had money I could get it. If -they would only give me what they owe me, I wouldn’t ask anybody for a -farthing, God knows, sir. I don’t know why the master put my feet in -the oven; he said to cure me: the agony of pain I was in was such, he -said, that it must be done. - -“The loss of my limbs is bad enough, but it’s still worse when you -can’t get what is your rights, nor anything for the sweat that they -worked out of me. - -“After I went down to Glasgow for my money I opened a little -coffee-house; it was called ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin.’ I did very well. The -man who sold me tea and coffee said he would get me on, and I had -better give my money to him to keep safe, and he used to put it away -in a tin box which I had given four-and-sixpence for. He advertised my -place in the papers, and I did a good business. I had the place open a -month, when he kept all my savings--two-and-forty pounds--and shut up -the place, and denied me of it, and I never got a farthing. - -“I declare to you I can’t describe the agony I felt when my legs were -burst; I fainted away over and over again. There was four men came; I -was lying in my hammock, and they moved the fowl that was roasting, -and put my legs in the oven. There they held me for ten minutes. They -said, it would take the cold out; but after I came out the cold caught -’em again, and the next day they swole up as big round as a pillar, and -burst, and then like water come out. No man but God knows what I have -suffered and went through. - -“By the order of the doctor at Valparaiso, the sick patients had to -come out of the room I went into; the smell was so bad I couldn’t -bear it myself--it was all mortification--they had to use chloride -o’ zinc to keep the smell down. They tried to save one leg, but the -mortification was getting up into my body. I got better after my legs -were off. - -“I was three months good before I could turn, or able to lift up my -hand to my head. I was glad to move after that time, it was a regular -relief to me; if it wasn’t for good attendance, I should not have -lived. You know they don’t allow tobaccer in a hospital, but I had it; -it was the only thing I cared for. The Reverend Mr. Armstrong used to -bring me a pound a fortnight; he used to bring it regular. I never used -to smoke before; they said I never should recover, but after I got the -tobaccer it seemed to soothe me. I was five months and a half in that -place. - -“Admiral Moseley, of the _Thetis_ frigate, sent me home; and the reason -why he sent me home was, that after I came well, I called on Mr. -Rouse, the English consul, and he sent me to the boarding-house, till -such time as he could find a ship to send me home in. I was there about -two months, and the boarding-master, Jan Pace, sent me to the consul. - -“I used to get about a little, with two small crutches, and I also had -a little cart before that, on three wheels; it was made by a man in the -hospital. I used to lash myself down in it. That was the best thing I -ever had--I could get about best in that. - -“Well, I went to the consul, and when I went to him, he says, ‘I can’t -pay your board; you must beg and pay for it;’ so I went and told Jan -Pace, and he said, ‘If you had stopped here a hundred years, I would -not turn you out;’ and then I asked Pace to tell me where the Admiral -lived. ‘What do you want with him?’ says he. I said, ‘I think the -Admiral must be higher than the consul.’ Pace slapped me on the back. -Says he, ‘I’m glad to see you’ve got the pluck to complain to the -Admiral.’ - -“I went down at nine o’clock the next morning, to see the Admiral. He -said, ‘Well, Prince Albert, how are you getting on?’ So I told him I -was getting on very bad; and then I told him all about the consul; and -he said, as long as he stopped he would see me righted, and took me on -board his ship, the _Thetis_; and he wrote to the consul, and said to -me, ‘If the consul sends for you, don’t you go to him; tell him you -have no legs to walk, and he must walk to you.’ - -“The consul wanted to send me back in a merchant ship, but the Admiral -wouldn’t have it, so I came in the _Driver_, one of Her Majesty’s -vessels. It was the 8th of May, 1852, when I got to Portsmouth. - -“I stopped a little while--about a week--in Portsmouth. I went to the -Admiral of the dockyard, and he told me I must go to the Lord Mayor of -London. So I paid my passage to London, saw the Lord Mayor, who sent -me to Mr. Yardley, the magistrate, and he advertised the case for me, -and I got four pounds fifteen shillings, besides my passage to Glasgow. -After I got there, I went to Mr. Symee a Custom-house officer (he’d -been in the same ship with me to California); he said, ‘Oh, gracious, -Edward, how have you lost your limbs!’ and I burst out a crying. I told -him all about it. He advised me to go to the owner. I went there; but -the policeman in London had put my name down as Robert Thorpe, which -was the man I lodged with; so they denied me. - -“I went to the shipping office, where they reckonised me; and I went -to Mr. Symee again, and he told me to go before the Lord Mayor (a Lord -Provost they call him in Scotland), and make an affidavit; and so, when -they found my story was right, they sent to London for my seaman’s -ticket; but they couldn’t do anything, because the captain was not -there. - -“When I got back to London, I commenced sweeping the crossin’, sir. I -only sweep it in the winter, because I can’t stand in the summer. Oh, -yes, I feel my feet still: it is just as if I had them sitting on the -floor, now. I feel my toes moving, like as if I had ’em. I could count -them, the whole ten, whenever I work my knees. I had a corn on one of -my toes, and I can feel it still, particularly at the change of weather. - -“Sometimes I might get two shillings a-day at my crossing, sometimes -one shilling and sixpence, sometimes I don’t take above sixpence. The -most I ever made in one day was three shillings and sixpence, but -that’s very seldom. - -“I am a very steady man. I don’t drink what money I get; and if I had -the means to get something to do, I’d keep off the streets. - -“When I offered to go to the parish, they told me to go to Scotland, to -spite the men who owed me my wages. - -“Many people tell me I ought to go to my country; but I tell them it’s -very hard--I didn’t come here without my legs--I lost them, as it were, -in this country; but if I had lost them in my own country, I should -have been better off. I should have gone down to the magistrate every -Friday, and have taken my ten shillings. - -“I went to the Merchant Seaman’s Fund, and they said that those who -got hurted before 1852 have been getting the funds, but those who were -hurted after 1852 couldn’t get nothing--it was stopped in ’51, and the -merchants wouldn’t pay any more, and don’t pay any more. - -“That’s scandalous, because, whether you’re willing or not, you must -pay two shillings a-month (one shilling a-month for the hospital fees, -and one shilling a-month to the Merchant Seaman’s Fund), out of your -pay. - -“I am married: my wife is the same colour as me, but an Englishwoman. -I’ve been married two years. I married her from where she belonged, in -Leeds. I couldn’t get on to do anything without her. Sometimes she goes -out and sells things--fruit, and so on--but she don’t make much. With -the assistance of my wife, if I could get my money, I would set up in -the same line of business as before, in a coffee-shop. If I had three -pounds I could do it: it took well in Scotland. I am not a common cook, -either; I am a pastrycook. I used to make all the sorts of cakes they -have in the shops. I bought the shapes, and tins, and things to make -them proper. - -“I’ll tell you how I did--there was a kind of apparatus; it boils water -and coffee, and the milk and the tea, in different departments; but you -couldn’t see the divisions--the pipes all ran into one tap, like. I’ve -had a sixpence and a shilling for people to look at it: it cost me two -pound ten. - -“Even if I had a coffee-stall down at Covent-garden, I should do; and, -besides, I understand the making of eel-soup. I have one child,--it is -just three months and a week old. It is a boy, and we call it James -Edward Albert. James is after my grandfather, who was a slave. - -“I was a little boy when the slaves in Jamaica got their freedom: the -people were very glad to be free; they do better since, I know, because -some of them have got property, and send their children to school. -There’s more Christianity there than there is here. The public-house is -close shut on Saturday night, and not opened till Monday morning. No -fruit is allowed to be sold in the street. I am a Protestant. I don’t -know the name of the church, but I goes down to a new-built church, -near King’s-cross. I never go in, because of my legs; but I just go -inside the door; and sometimes when I don’t go, I read the Testament -I’ve got here: in all my sickness I took care of that. - -“There are a great many Irish in this place. I would like to get away -from it, for it is a very disgraceful place,--it is an awful, awful -place altogether. I haven’t been in it very long, and I want to get out -of it; it is not fit. - -“I pay one-and-sixpence rent. If you don’t go out and drink and carouse -with them, they don’t like it; they make use of bad language--they -chaff me about my misfortune--they call me ‘Cripple;’ some says ‘Uncle -Tom,’ and some says ‘Nigger;’ but I never takes no notice of ’em at -all.” - - * * * * * - -The following is a verbatim copy of the placard which the poor fellow -places before him when he begs. He carries it, when not in use, in a -little calico bag which hangs round his neck:-- - - KIND CHRISTIAN FRIENDS - - THE UNFORTUNATE - - EDWARD ALBERT - - WAS COOK ON BOARD THE BARQUE MADEIRA OF GLASGOW CAPTAIN J. DOUGLAS - IN FEBRUARY 1851 WHEN AFTER ROUNDING CAPE HORNE HE HAD HIS LEGS AND - FEET FROST BITTEN WHEN in that state the master and mate put my Legs - and Feet into the Oven as they said to cure me the Oven being hot - at the time a fowl was roasting was took away to make room for my - feet and legs in consequence of this my feet and legs swelled and - burst----Mortification then Ensued after which my legs were amputated - Three Inches below the knees soon after my entering the Hospital at - Valpariso. - - AS I HAVE NO OTHER MEANS TO GET A LIVELYHOOD BUT BY APPEALING TO - - A GENEROUS PUBLIC - - YOUR KIND DONATIONS WILL BE MOST THANKFULLY RECEIVED. - - -THE MAIMED IRISH CROSSING-SWEEPER. - -He stands at the corner of ---- street, where the yellow omnibuses -stop, and refers to himself every now and then as the “poor lame man.” -He has no especial mode of addressing the passers-by, except that of -hobbling a step or two towards them and sweeping away an imaginary -accumulation of mud. He has lost one leg (from the knee) by a fall from -a scaffold, while working as a bricklayer’s labourer in Wales, some -six years ago; and speaks bitterly of the hard time he had of it when -he first came to London, and hobbled about selling matches. He says he -is thirty-six, but looks more than fifty; and his face has the ghastly -expression of death. He wears the ordinary close cloth street-cap and -corduroy trousers. Even during the warm weather he wears an upper -coat--a rough thick garment, fit for the Arctic regions. It was very -difficult to make him understand my object in getting information from -him: he thought that he had nothing to tell, and laid great stress upon -the fact of his never keeping “count” of anything. - -He accounted for his miserably small income by stating that he was an -invalid--“now and thin continually.” He said-- - -“I can’t say how long I have been on this crossin’; I think about five -year. When I came on it there had been no one here before. No one -interferes with me at all, at all. I niver hard of a crossin’ bein’ -sould; but I don’t know any other sweepers. I makes no fraydom with no -one, and I always keeps my own mind. - -“I dunno how much I earn a-day--p’rhaps I may git a shilling, and -p’rhaps sixpence. I didn’t git much yesterday (Sunday)--only sixpence. -I was not out on Saturday; I was ill in bed, and I was at home on -Friday. Indeed, I did not get much on Thursday, only tuppence ha’penny. -The largest day? I dunno. Why, about a shilling. Well, sure, I might -git as much as two shillings, if I got a shillin’ from a lady. Some -gintlemen are good--such a gintleman as you, now, might give me a -shilling. - -“Well, as to weather, I likes half dry and half wit; of course I wish -for the bad wither. Every one must be glad of what brings good to him; -and, there’s one thing, I can’t make the wither--I can’t make a fine -day nor a wit one. I don’t think anybody would interfere with me; -certainly, if I was a blaggya’rd I should not be left here; no, nor if -I was a thief; but if any other man was to come on to my crossing, I -can’t say whether the police _would_ interfere to protect me--p’rhaps -they might. - -“What is it I say to shabby people? Well, by J----, they’re all shabby, -I think. I don’t see any difference; but what can I do? I can’t insult -thim, and I was niver insulted mysilf, since here I’ve been, nor, for -the matter of that, ever had an angry worrud spoken to me. - -“Well, sure, I dunno who’s the most liberal; if I got a fourpinny bit -from a moll I’d take it. Some of the ladies are very liberal; a good -lady will give a sixpence. I never hard of sweepin’ the mud back again; -and as for the boys annoying me, I has no coleaguein’ with boys, and -they wouldn’t be allowed to interfere with me--the police wouldn’t -allow it. - -“After I came from Wales, where I was on one leg, selling matches, -then it was I took to sweep the crossin’. A poor divil must put up -with anything, good or bad. Well, I was a laborin’ man, a bricklayer’s -labourer, and I’ve been away from Ireland these sixteen year. When I -came from Ireland I went to Wales. I was there a long time; and the -way I broke my leg was, I fell off a scaffold. I am not married; a -lame man wouldn’t get any woman to have him in London at all, at all. -I don’t know what age I am. I am not fifty, nor forty; I think about -thirty-six. No, by J----, it’s not mysilf that iver knew a well-off -crossin’-sweeper. I don’t dale in them at all. - -“I got a dale of friends in London assist me (but only now and thin). -If I depinded on the few ha’pence I get, I wouldn’t live on ’em; what -money I get here wouldn’t buy a pound of mate; and I wouldn’t live, -only for my frinds. You see, sir, I can’t be out always. I am laid -up nows and thins continually. Oh, it’s a poor trade to big on the -crossin’ from morning till night, and not get sixpence. I couldn’t do -with it, I know. - -“Yes, sir, I smoke; it’s a comfort, it is. I like any kind I’d get to -smoke. I’d like the best if I got it. - -“I am a Roman Catholic, and I go to St. Patrick’s, in St. Giles’s; a -many people from my neighbourhood go there. I go every Sunday, and to -Confession just once a-year--that saves me. - -“By the Lord’s mercy! I don’t get broken victuals, nor broken mate, not -as much as you might put on the tip of a forruk; they’d chuck it out in -the dust-bin before they’d give it to me. I suppose they’re all alike. - -“The divil an odd job I iver got, master, nor knives to clane. If I got -their knives to clane, p’rhaps I might clane them. - -“My brooms cost threepence ha’penny; they are very good. I wear them -down to a stump, and they last three weeks, this fine wither. I niver -got any ould clothes--not but I want a coat very bad, sir. - -“I come from Dublin; my father and mother died there of cholera; and -when they died, I come to England, and that was the cause of my coming. - -“By my oath it didn’t stand me in more than eighteenpence that I took -here last week. - -“I live in ---- lane, St. Giles’s Church, on the second landing, and I -pay eightpence a week. I haven’t a room to mysilf, for there’s a family -lives in it wid me. - -“When I goes home I just smokes a pipe, and goes to bid, that’s all.” - - -II.--JUVENILE CROSSING-SWEEPERS. - - -_A. The Boy Crossing-Sweepers._ - - -BOY CROSSING-SWEEPERS AND TUMBLERS. - -A remarkably intelligent lad, who, on being spoken to, at once -consented to give all the information in his power, told me the -following story of his life. - -It will be seen from this boy’s account, and the one or two following, -that a kind of partnership exists among some of these young sweepers. -They have associated themselves together, appropriated several -crossings to their use, and appointed a captain over them. They have -their forms of trial, and “jury-house” for the settlement of disputes; -laws have been framed, which govern their commercial proceedings, and a -kind of language adopted by the society for its better protection from -its arch-enemy, the policeman. - -I found the lad who first gave me an insight into the proceedings of -the associated crossing-sweepers crouched on the stone steps of a door -in Adelaide-street, Strand; and when I spoke to him he was preparing to -settle down in a corner and go to sleep--his legs and body being curled -round almost as closely as those of a cat on a hearth. - -The moment he heard my voice he was upon his feet, asking me to “give a -halfpenny to poor little Jack.” - -He was a good-looking lad, with a pair of large mild eyes, which he -took good care to turn up with an expression of supplication as he -moaned for his halfpenny. - -A cap, or more properly a stuff bag, covered a crop of hair which had -matted itself into the form of so many paint-brushes, while his face, -from its roundness of feature and the complexion of dirt, had an almost -Indian look about it; the colour of his hands, too, was such that you -could imagine he had been shelling walnuts. - -[Illustration: THE BOY CROSSING-SWEEPERS. - -[_From a Daguerreotype by_ BEARD.]] - -He ran before me, treading cautiously with his naked feet, until I -reached a convenient spot to take down his statement, which was as -follows:-- - -“I’ve got no mother or father; mother has been dead for two years, -and father’s been gone more than that--more nigh five years--he died -at Ipswich, in Suffolk. He was a perfumer by trade, and used to make -hair-dye, and scent, and pomatum, and all kinds of scents. He didn’t -keep a shop himself, but he used to serve them as did; he didn’t hawk -his goods about, neether, but had regular customers, what used to send -him a letter, and then he’d take them what they wanted. Yes, he used to -serve some good shops: there was H----’s, of London Bridge, what’s a -large chemist’s. He used to make a good deal of money, but he lost it -betting; and so his brother, my uncle, did all his. He used to go -up to High Park, and then go round by the Hospital, and then turn up -a yard, where all the men are who play for money [Tattersall’s]; and -there he’d lose his money, or sometimes win,--but that wasn’t often. I -remember he used to come home tipsy, and say he’d lost on this or that -horse, naming wot one he’d laid on; and then mother would coax him to -bed, and afterwards sit down and begin to cry. - -“I was not with father when he died (but I was when he was dying), -for I was sent up along with eldest sister to London with a letter to -uncle, who was head servant at a doctor’s. In this letter, mother asked -uncle to pay back some money wot he owed, and wot father lent him, and -she asked him if he’d like to come down and see father before he died. -I recollect I went back again to mother by the Orwell steamer. I was -well dressed then, and had good clothes on, and I was given to the care -of the captain--Mr. King his name was. But when I got back to Ipswich, -father was dead. - -“Mother took on dreadful; she was ill for three months afterwards, -confined to her bed. She hardly eat anything: only beaf-tea--I think -they call it--and eggs. All the while she kept on crying. - -“Mother kept a servant; yes, sir, we always had a servant, as long -as I can recollect; and she and the woman as was there--Anna they -called her, an old lady--used to take care of me and sister. Sister -was fourteen years old (she’s married to a young man now, and they’ve -gone to America; she went from a place in the East India Docks, and I -saw her off). I used, when I was with mother, to go to school in the -morning, and go at nine and come home at twelve to dinner, then go -again at two and leave off at half-past four,--that is, if I behaved -myself and did all my lessons right; for if I did not I was kept -back till I _did_ them so. Mother used to pay one shilling a-week, -and extra for the copy-books and things. I can read and write--oh, -yes, I mean read and write well--read anything, even old English; and -I write pretty fair,--though I don’t get much reading now, unless -it’s a penny paper--I’ve got one in my pocket now--it’s the _London -Journal_--there’s a tale in it now about two brothers, and one of them -steals the child away and puts another in his place, and then he gets -found out, and all that, and he’s just been falling off a bridge now. - -“After mother got better, she sold all the furniture and goods and came -up to London;--poor mother! She let a man of the name of Hayes have the -greater part, and he left Ipswich soon after, and never gave mother the -money. We came up to London, and mother took two rooms in Westminster, -and I and sister lived along with her. She used to make hair-nets, and -sister helped her, and used to take ’em to the hair-dressers to sell. -She made these nets for two or three years, though she was suffering -with a bad breast;--she died of that--poor thing!--for she had what -doctors calls cancer--perhaps you’ve heard of ’em, sir,--and they had -to cut all round here (making motions with his hands from the shoulder -to the bosom). Sister saw it, though I didn’t. - -“Ah! she was a very good, kind mother, and very fond of both of us; -though father wasn’t, for he’d always have a noise with mother when he -come home, only he was seldom with us when he was making his goods. - -“After mother died, sister still kept on making nets, and I lived with -her for some time, until she told me she couldn’t afford to keep me -no longer, though she seemed to have a pretty good lot to do; but she -would never let me go with her to the shops, though I could crochet, -which she’d learned me, and used to run and get her all her silks and -things what she wanted. But she was keeping company with a young man, -and one day they went out, and came back and said they’d been and got -married. It was him as got rid of me. - -“He was kind to me for the first two or three months, while he was -keeping her company; but before he was married he got a little cross, -and after he was married he begun to get more cross, and used to send -me to play in the streets, and tell me not to come home again till -night. One day he hit me, and I said I wouldn’t be hit about by him, -and then at tea that night sister gave me three shillings, and told me -I must go and get my own living. So I bought a box and brushes (they -cost me just the money) and went cleaning boots, and I done pretty well -with them, till my box was stole from me by a boy where I was lodging. -He’s in prison now--got six calendar for picking pockets. - -“Sister kept all my clothes. When I asked her for ’em, she said they -was disposed of along with all mother’s goods; but she gave me some -shirts and stockings, and such-like, and I had very good clothes, only -they was all worn out. I saw sister after I left her, many times. I -asked her many times to take me back, but she used to say, ‘It was not -her likes, but her husband’s, or she’d have had me back;’ and I think -it was true, for until he came she was a kind-hearted girl; but he said -he’d enough to do to look after his own living; he was a fancy-baker by -trade. - -“I was fifteen the 24th of last May, sir, and I’ve been sweeping -crossings now near upon two years. There’s a party of six of us, and -we have the crossings from St. Martin’s Church as far as Pall Mall. -I always go along with them as lodges in the same place as I do. In -the daytime, if it’s dry, we do anythink what we can--open cabs, or -anythink; but if it’s wet, we separate, and I and another gets a -crossing--those who gets on it first, keeps it,--and we stand on each -side and take our chance. - -“We do it in this way:--if I was to see two gentlemen coming, I should -cry out, ‘Two toffs!’ and then they are mine; and whether they give -me anythink or not they are mine, and my mate is bound not to follow -them; for if he did he would get a hiding from the whole lot of us. If -we both cry out together, then we share. If it’s a lady and gentleman, -then we cries, ‘A toff and a doll!’ Sometimes we are caught out in this -way. Perhaps it is a lady and gentleman and a child; and if I was to -see them, and only say, ‘A toff and a doll,’ and leave out the child, -then my mate can add the child; and as he is right and I wrong, then -it’s his party. - -“If there’s a policeman close at hand we mustn’t ask for money; but we -are always on the look-out for the policemen, and if we see one, then -we calls out ‘Phillup!’ for that’s our signal. One of the policemen at -St. Martin’s Church--Bandy, we calls him--knows what Phillup means, for -he’s up to us; so we had to change the word. (At the request of the -young crossing-sweeper the present signal is omitted.) - -“Yesterday on the crossing I got threepence halfpenny, but when it’s -dry like to-day I do nothink, for I haven’t got a penny yet. We never -carries no pockets, for if the policemen find us we generally pass the -money to our mates, for if money’s found on us we have fourteen days in -prison. - -“If I was to reckon all the year round, that is, one day with another, -I think we make fourpence every day, and if we were to stick to it we -should make more, for on a very muddy day we do better. One day, the -best I ever had, from nine o’clock in the morning till seven o’clock -at night, I made seven shillings and sixpence, and got not one bit of -silver money among it. Every shilling I got I went and left at a shop -near where my crossing is, for fear I might get into any harm. The -shop’s kept by a woman we deals with for what we wants--tea and butter, -or sugar, or brooms--anythink we wants. Saturday night week I made -two-and-sixpence; that’s what I took altogether up to six o’clock. - -“When we see the rain we say together, ‘Oh! there’s a jolly good rain! -we’ll have a good day to-morrow.’ If a shower comes on, and we are at -our room, which we general are about three o’clock, to get somethink to -eat--besides, we general go there to see how much each other’s taken in -the day--why, out we run with our brooms. - -“We’re always sure to make money if there’s mud--that’s to say, if we -look for our money, and ask; of course, if we stand still we don’t. -Now, there’s Lord Fitzhardinge, he’s a good gentleman, what lives -in Spring-gardens, in a large house. He’s got a lot of servants and -carriages. Every time he crosses the Charing-cross crossing he always -gives the girl half a sovereign.” (This statement was taken in June -1856.) “He doesn’t cross often, because, hang it, he’s got such a lot -of carriages, but when he’s on foot he always does. If they asks him -he doesn’t give nothink, but if they touches their caps he does. The -housekeeper at his house is very kind to us. We run errands for her, -and when she wants any of her own letters taken to the post then she -calls, and if we are on the crossing we takes them for her. She’s a -very nice lady, and gives us broken victuals. I’ve got a share in that -crossing,--there are three of us, and when he gives the half sovereign -he always gives it to the girl, and those that are in it shares it. She -would do us out of it if she could, but we all takes good care of that, -for we are all cheats. - -“At night-time we tumbles--that is, if the policemen ain’t nigh. We -goes general to Waterloo-place when the Opera’s on. We sends on one -of us ahead, as a looker-out, to look for the policeman, and then we -follows. It’s no good tumbling to gentlemen _going_ to the Opera; it’s -when they’re coming back they gives us money. When they’ve got a young -lady on their arm they laugh at us tumbling; some will give us a penny, -others threepence, sometimes a sixpence or a shilling, and sometimes a -halfpenny. We either do the cat’un-wheel, or else we keep before the -gentleman and lady, turning head-over-heels, putting our broom on the -ground and then turning over it. - -“I work a good deal fetching cabs after the Opera is over; we general -open the doors of those what draw up at the side of the pavement for -people to get into as have walked a little down the Haymarket looking -for a cab. We gets a month in prison if we touch the others by the -columns. I once had half a sovereign give me by a gentleman; it was -raining awful, and I run all about for a cab, and at last I got one. -The gentleman knew it was half a sovereign, because he said--‘Here, my -little man, here’s half a sovereign for your trouble.’ He had three -ladies with him, beautiful ones, with nothink on their heads, and -only capes on their bare shoulders; and he had white kids on, and his -regular Opera togs, too. I liked him very much, and as he was going -to give me somethink the ladies says--‘Oh, give him somethink extra!’ -It was pouring with rain, and they couldn’t get a cab; they were all -engaged, but I jumped on the box of one as was driving along the line. -Last Saturday Opera night I made fifteen pence by the gentlemen coming -from the Opera. - -“After the Opera we go into the Haymarket, where all the women are who -walk the streets all night. They don’t give us no money, but they tell -the gentlemen to. Sometimes, when they are talking to the gentlemen, -they say, ‘Go away, you young rascal!’ and if they are saucy, then we -say to them, ‘We’re not talking to you, my doxy, we’re talking to the -gentleman,’--but that’s only if they’re rude, for if they speak civil -we always goes. They knows what ‘doxy’ means. What is it? Why that -they are no better than us! If we are on the crossing, and we says to -them as they go by, ‘Good luck to you!’ they always give us somethink -either that night or the next. There are two with bloomer bonnets, who -always give us somethink if we says ‘Good luck.’ Sometimes a gentleman -will tell us to go and get them a young lady, and then we goes, and -they general gives us sixpence for that. If the gents is dressed finely -we gets them a handsome girl; if they’re dressed middling, then we gets -them a middling-dressed one; but we usual prefers giving a turn to -girls that have been kind to us, and they are sure to give us somethink -the next night. If we don’t find any girls walking, we knows where to -get them in the houses in the streets round about. - -“We always meet at St. Martin’s steps--the ‘jury house,’ we calls -’em--at three o’clock in the morning, that’s always our hour. We -reckons up what we’ve taken, but we don’t divide. Sometimes, if we owe -anythink where we lodge, the women of the house will be waiting on the -steps for us: then, if we’ve got it, we pay them; if we haven’t, why it -can’t be helped, and it goes on. We gets into debt, because sometimes -the women where we live gets lushy; then we don’t give them anythink, -because they’d forget it, so we spends it ourselves. We can’t lodge at -what’s called model lodging-houses, as our hours don’t suit them folks. -We pays threepence a-night for lodging. Food, if we get plenty of -money, we buys for ourselves. We buys a pound of bread, that’s twopence -farthing--best seconds, and a farthing’s worth of dripping--that’s -enough for a pound of bread--and we gets a ha’porth of tea and a -ha’porth of sugar; or if we’re hard up, we gets only a penn’orth of -bread. We make our own tea at home; they lends us a kittle, teapot, and -cups and saucers, and all that. - -“Once or twice a-week we gets meat. We all club together, and go into -Newgate Market and gets some pieces cheap, and biles them at home. We -tosses up who shall have the biggest bit, and we divide the broth, a -cupful in each basin, until it’s lasted out. If any of us has been -unlucky we each gives the unlucky one one or two halfpence. Some of us -is obliged at times to sleep out all night; and sometimes, if any of us -gets nothink, then the others gives him a penny or two, and _he_ does -the same for us when _we_ are out of luck. - -“Besides, there’s our clothes: I’m paying for a pair of boots now. I -paid a shilling off Saturday night. - -“When we gets home at half-past three in the morning, whoever cries -out ‘first wash’ has it. First of all we washes our feet, and we all -uses the same water. Then we washes our faces and hands, and necks, and -whoever fetches the fresh water up has first wash; and if the second -don’t like to go and get fresh, why he uses the dirty. Whenever we come -in the landlady makes us wash our feet. Very often the stones cuts our -feet and makes them bleed; then we bind a bit of rag round them. We -like to put on boots and shoes in the daytime, but at night-time we -can’t, because it stops the tumbling. - -“On the Sunday we all have a clean shirt put on before we go out, and -then we go and tumble after the omnibuses. Sometimes we do very well -on a fine Sunday, when there’s plenty of people out on the roofs of -the busses. We never do anythink on a wet day, but only when it’s -been raining and then dried up. I have run after a Cremorne bus, when -they’ve thrown us money, as far as from Charing-cross right up to -Piccadilly, but if they don’t throw us nothink we don’t run very far. -I should think we gets at that work, taking one Sunday with another, -eightpence all the year round. - -“When there’s snow on the ground we puts our money together, and goes -and buys an old shovel, and then, about seven o’clock in the morning, -we goes to the shops and asks them if we shall scrape the snow away. We -general gets twopence every house, but some gives sixpence, for it’s -very hard to clean the snow away, particular when it’s been on the -ground some time. It’s awful cold, and gives us chilblains on our feet; -but we don’t mind it when we’re working, for we soon gets hot then. - -“Before winter comes, we general save up our money and buys a pair of -shoes. Sometimes we makes a very big snowball and rolls it up to the -hotels, and then the gentlemen laughs and throws us money; or else we -pelt each other with snowballs, and then they scrambles money between -us. We always go to Morley’s Hotel, at Charing-cross. The police in -winter times is kinder to us than in summer, and they only laughs at -us;--p’rhaps it is because there is not so many of us about then,--only -them as is obligated to find a living for themselves; for many of the -boys has fathers and mothers as sends them out in summer, but keeps -them at home in winter when it’s piercing cold. - -“I have been to the station-house, because the police always takes us -up if we are out at night; but we’re only locked up till morning,--that -is, if we behaves ourselves when we’re taken before the gentleman. Mr. -Hall, at Bow-street, only says, ‘Poor boy, let him go.’ But it’s only -when we’ve done nothink but stop out that he says that. He’s a kind old -gentleman; but mind, it’s only when you have been before him two or -three times he says so, because if it’s a many times, he’ll send you -for fourteen days. - -“But we don’t mind the police much at night-time, because we jumps -over the walls round the place at Trafalgar-square, and they don’t -like to follow us at that game, and only stands looking at you over -the parrypit. There was one tried to jump the wall, but he split his -trousers all to bits, and now they’re afraid. That was Old Bandy as -bust his breeches; and we all hate him, as well as another we calls -Black Diamond, what’s general along with the Red Liners, as we calls -the Mendicity officers, who goes about in disguise as gentlemen, to -take up poor boys caught begging. - -“When we are talking together we always talk in a kind of slang. Each -policeman we gives a regular name--there’s ‘Bull’s Head,’ ‘Bandy -Shanks,’ and ‘Old Cherry Legs,’ and ‘Dot-and-carry-one;’ they all knows -their names as well as us. We never talks of crossings, but ‘fakes.’ We -don’t make no slang of our own, but uses the regular one. - -“A broom doesn’t last us more than a week in wet weather, and they -costs us twopence halfpenny each; but in dry weather they are good for -a fortnight.” - - -YOUNG MIKE’S STATEMENT. - -The next lad I examined was called Mike. He was a short, stout-set -youth, with a face like an old man’s, for the features were hard -and defined, and the hollows had got filled up with dirt till his -countenance was brown as an old wood carving. I have seldom seen so -dirty a face, for the boy had been in a perspiration, and then wiped -his cheeks with his muddy hands, until they were marbled, like the -covering to a copy-book. - -The old lady of the house in which the boy lived seemed to be hurt by -the unwashed appearance of her lodger. “You ought to be ashamed of -yourself--and that’s God’s truth--not to go and sluice yourself afore -spaking to the jintlemin,” she cried, looking alternately at me and the -lad, as if asking me to witness her indignation. - -Mike wore no shoes, but his feet were as black as if cased in gloves -with short fingers. His coat had been a man’s, and the tails reached to -his ankles; one of the sleeves was wanting, and a dirty rag had been -wound round the arm in its stead. His hair spread about like a tuft of -grass where a rabbit has been squatting. - -He said, “I haven’t got neither no father nor no mother,--never had, -sir; for father’s been dead these two year, and mother getting on -for eight. They was both Irish people, please sir, and father was a -bricklayer. When father was at work in the country, mother used to get -work carrying loads at Covent-garden Market. I lived with father till -he died, and that was from a complaint in his chest. After that I lived -along with my big brother, what’s ’listed in the Marines now. He used -to sweep a crossing in Camden-town, opposite the Southampting Harms, -near the toll-gate. - -“He did pretty well up there sometimes, such as on Christmas-day, where -he has took as much as six shillings sometimes, and never less than one -and sixpence. All the gentlements knowed him thereabouts, and one or -two used to give him a shilling a-week regular. - -“It was he as first of all put me up to sweep a crossing, and I used to -take my stand at St. Martin’s Church. - -“I didn’t see anybody working there, so I planted myself on it. After a -time some other boys come up. They come up and wanted to turn me off, -and began hitting me with their brooms,--they hit me regular hard with -the old stumps; there was five or six of them; so I couldn’t defend -myself, but told the policeman, and he turned them all away except -me, because he saw me on first, sir. Now we are all friends, and work -together, and all that we earns ourself we has. - -“On a good day, when it’s poured o’ rain and then leave off sudden, and -made it nice and muddy, I’ve took as much as ninepence; but it’s too -dry now, and we don’t do more than fourpence. - -“At night, I go along with the others tumbling. I does the cat’en-wheel -[probably a contraction of Catherine-wheel]; I throws myself over -sideways on my hands with my legs in the air. I can’t do it more than -four times running, because it makes the blood to the head, and then -all the things seems to turn round. Sometimes a chap will give me a -lick with a stick just as I’m going over--sometimes a reg’lar good hard -whack; but it ain’t often, and we general gets a halfpenny or a penny -by it. - -“The boys as runs after the busses was the first to do these here -cat’en-wheels. I know the boy as was the very first to do it. His name -is Gander, so we calls him the Goose. - -“There’s about nine or ten of us in our gang, and as is reg’lar; we -lodges at different places, and we has our reg’lar hours for meeting, -but we all comes and goes when we likes, only we keeps together, so as -not to let any others come on the crossings but ourselves. - -“If another boy tries to come on we cries out, ‘Here’s a Rooshian,’ and -then if he won’t go away, we all sets on him and gives him a drubbing; -and if he still comes down the next day, we pays him out twice as much, -and harder. - -“There’s never been one down there yet as can lick us all together. - -“If we sees one of our pals being pitched into by other boys, we goes -up and helps him. Gander’s the leader of our gang, ’cause he can tumble -back’ards (no, that ain’t the cat’en-wheel, that’s tumbling); so he -gets more tin give him, and that’s why we makes him cap’an. - -“After twelve at night we goes to the Regent’s Circus, and we tumbles -there to the gentlemen and ladies. The most I ever got was sixpence at -a time. The French ladies never give us nothink, but they all says, -‘Chit, chit, chit,’ like hissing at us, for they can’t understand us, -and we’re as bad off with them. - -“If it’s a wet night we leaves off work about twelve o’clock, and don’t -bother with the Haymarket. - -“The first as gets to the crossing does the sweeping away of the mud. -Then they has in return all the halfpence they can take. When it’s been -wet every day, a broom gets down to stump in about four days. We either -burns the old brooms, or, if we can, we sells ’em for a ha’penny to -some other boy, if he’s flat enough to buy ’em.” - - -GANDER--THE “CAPTAIN” OF THE BOY CROSSING-SWEEPERS. - -Gander, the captain of the gang of boy crossing-sweepers, was a big lad -of sixteen, with a face devoid of all expression, until he laughed, -when the cheeks, mouth, and forehead instantly became crumpled up with -a wonderful quantity of lines and dimples. His hair was cut short, and -stood up in all directions, like the bristles of a hearth-broom, and -was a light dust tint, matching with the hue of his complexion, which -also, from an absence of washing, had turned to a decided drab, or what -house-painters term a stone-colour. - -He spoke with a lisp, occasioned by the loss of two of his large front -teeth, which allowed the tongue as he talked to appear through the -opening in a round nob like a raspberry. - -The boy’s clothing was in a shocking condition. He had no coat, and his -blue-striped shirt was as dirty as a French-polisher’s rags, and so -tattered, that the shoulder was completely bare, while the sleeve hung -down over the hand like a big bag. - -From the fish-scales on the sleeves of his coat, it had evidently once -belonged to some coster in the herring line. The nap was all worn off, -so that the lines of the web were showing like a coarse carpet; and -instead of buttons, string had been passed through holes pierced at the -side. - -Of course he had no shoes on, and his black trousers, which, with the -grease on them, were gradually assuming a tarpaulin look, were fastened -over one shoulder by means of a brace and bits of string. - -During his statement, he illustrated his account of the tumbling -backwards--the “caten-wheeling”--with different specimens of the art, -throwing himself about on the floor with an ease and almost grace, and -taking up so small a space of the ground for the performance, that his -limbs seemed to bend as though his bones were flexible like cane. - -“To tell you the blessed truth, I can’t say the last shilling I -handled.” - -“Don’t you go a-believing on him,” whispered another lad in my ear, -whilst Gander’s head was turned: “he took thirteenpence last night, he -did.” - -It was perfectly impossible to obtain from this lad any account of his -average earnings. The other boys in the gang told me that he made more -than any of them. But Gander, who is a thorough street-beggar, and -speaks with a peculiar whine, and who, directly you look at him, puts -on an expression of deep distress, seemed to have made up his mind, -that if he made himself out to be in great want I should most likely -relieve him--so he would not budge an inch from his twopence a-day, -declaring it to be the maximum of his daily earnings. - -“Ah,” he continued, with a persecuted tone of voice, “if I had only -got a little money, I’d be a bright youth! The first chance as I get -of earning a few halfpence, I’ll buy myself a coat, and be off to the -country, and I’ll lay something I’d soon be a gentleman then, and come -home with a couple of pounds in my pocket, instead of never having -ne’er a farthing, as now.” - -One of the other lads here exclaimed, “Don’t go on like that there, -Goose; you’re making us out all liars to the gentleman.” - -The old woman also interfered. She lost all patience with Gander, and -reproached him for making a false return of his income. She tried to -shame him into truthfulness, by saying,-- - -“Look at my Johnny--my grandson, sir, he’s not a quarther the -Goose’s size, and yet he’ll bring me home his shilling, or perhaps -eighteenpence or two shillings--for shame on you, Gander! Now, did you -make six shillings last week?--now, speak God’s truth!” - -“What! six shillings?” cried the Goose--“six shillings!” and he began -to look up at the ceiling, and shake his hands. “Why, I never heard of -sich a sum. I did once _see_ a half-crown; but I don’t know as I ever -touched e’er a one.” - -“Thin,” added the old woman, indignantly, “it’s because you’re idle, -Gander, and you don’t study when you’re on the crossing; but lets the -gintlefolk go by without ever a word. That’s what it is, sir.” - -The Goose seemed to feel the truth of this reproach, for he said with a -sigh, “I knows I am fickle-minded.” - -He then continued his statement,-- - -“I can’t tell how many brooms I use; for as fast as I gets one, it is -took from me. God help me! They watch me put it away, and then up they -comes and takes it. What kinds of brooms is the best? Why, as far as I -am concerned, I would sooner have a stump on a dry day--it’s lighter -and handier to carry; but on a wet day, give me a new un. - -“I’m sixteen, your honour, and my name’s George Gandea, and the boys -calls me ‘the Goose’ in consequence; for it’s a nickname they gives me, -though my name ain’t spelt with a _har_ at the end, but with a _h’ay_, -so that I ain’t Gand_er_ after all, but Gand_ea_, which is a sell for -’em. - -“God knows what I am--whether I’m h’Irish or h’_I_talian, or what; but -I was christened here in London, and that’s all about it. - -“Father was a bookbinder. I’m sixteen now, and father turned me away -when I was nine year old, for mother had been dead before that. I was -told my right name by my brother-in-law, who had my register. He’s -a sweep, sir, by trade, and I wanted to know about my real name when -I was going down to the _Waterloo_--that’s a ship as I wanted to get -aboard as a cabin-boy. - -“I remember the fust night I slept out after father got rid of me. I -slept on a gentleman’s door-step, in the winter, on the 15th January. -I packed my shirt and coat, which was a pretty good one, right over -my ears, and then scruntched myself into a doorway, and the policeman -passed by four or five times without seeing on me. - -“I had a mother-in-law at the time; but father used to drink, or else -I should never have been as I am; and he came home one night, and says -he, ‘Go out and get me a few ha’pence for breakfast,’ and I said I had -never been in the streets in my life, and couldn’t; and, says he, ‘Go -out, and never let me see you no more,’ and I took him to his word, and -have never been near him since. - -“Father lived in Barbican at that time, and after leaving him, I used -to go to the Royal Exchange, and there I met a boy of the name of -Michael, and he first learnt me to beg, and made me run after people, -saying, ‘Poor boy, sir--please give us a ha’penny to get a mossel of -bread.’ But as fast as I got anythink, he used to take it away, and -knock me about shameful; so I left him, and then I picked up with a -chap as taught me tumbling. I soon larnt how to do it, and then I used -to go tumbling after busses. That was my notion all along, and I hadn’t -picked up the way of doing it half an hour before I was after that game. - -“I took to crossings about eight year ago, and the very fust person -as I asked, I had a fourpenny-piece give to me. I said to him, ‘Poor -little Jack, yer honour,’ and, fust of all, says he, ‘I haven’t got no -coppers,’ and then he turns back and give me a fourpenny-bit. I thought -I was made for life when I got that. - -“I wasn’t working in a gang then, but all by myself, and I used to -do well, making about a shilling or ninepence a-day. I lodged in -Church-lane at that time. - -“It was at the time of the Shibition year (1851) as these gangs come -up. There was lots of boys that came out sweeping, and that’s how they -picked up the tumbling off me, seeing me do it up in the Park, going -along to the Shibition. - -“The crossing at St. Martin’s Church was mine fust of all; and when the -other lads come to it I didn’t take no heed of ’em--only for that I’d -have been a bright boy by now, but they carnied me over like; for when -I tried to turn ’em off they’d say, in a carnying way, ‘Oh, let us stay -on,’ so I never took no heed of ’em. - -“There was about thirteen of ’em in my gang at that time. - -“They made me cap’an over the lot--I suppose because they thought I was -the best tumbler of ’em. They obeyed me a little. If I told ’em not to -go to any gentleman, they wouldn’t, and leave him to me. There was only -one feller as used to give me a share of his money, and that was for -larning him to tumble--he’d give a penny or twopence, just as he yearnt -a little or a lot. I taught ’em all to tumble, and we used to do it -near the crossing, and at night along the streets. - -“We used to be sometimes together of a day, some a-running after one -gentleman, and some after another; but we seldom kept together more -than three or four at a time. - -“I was the fust to introduce tumbling backards, and I’m proud of -it--yes, sir, I’m proud of it. There’s another little chap as I’m -larning to do it; but he ain’t got strength enough in his arms like. -(‘Ah!’ exclaimed a lad in the room, ‘he _is_ a one to tumble, is -Johnny--go along the streets like anythink.’) - -“He is the King of the Tumblers,” continued Gander--“King, and I’m -Cap’an.” - -The old grandmother here joined in. “He was taught by a furreign -gintleman, sir, whose wife rode at a circus. He used to come here twice -a-day and give him lessons in this here very room, sir. That’s how he -got it, sir.” - -“Ah,” added another lad, in an admiring tone, “see him and the Goose -have a race! Away they goes, but Jacky will leave him a mile behind.” - -The history then continued:--“People liked the tumbling backards and -forards, and it got a good bit of money at fust, but they is getting -tired with it, and I’m growing too hold, I fancy. It hurt me awful at -fust. I tried it fust under a railway arch of the Blackwall Railway; -and when I goes backards, I thought it’d cut my head open. It hurts me -if I’ve got a thin cap on. - -“The man as taught me tumbling has gone on the stage. Fust he went -about with swords, fencing, in public-houses, and then he got engaged. -Me and him once tumbled all round the circus at the Rotunda one night -wot was a benefit, and got one-and-eightpence a-piece, and all for only -five hours and a half--from six to half-past eleven, and we acting and -tumbling, and all that. We had plenty of beer, too. We was wery much -applauded when we did it. - -“I was the fust boy as ever did ornamental work in the mud of my -crossings. I used to be at the crossing at the corner of Regent-suckus; -and that’s the wery place where I fust did it. The wery fust thing -as I did was a hanker (anchor)--a regular one, with turn-up sides -and a rope down the centre, and all. I sweeped it away clean in the -mud in the shape of the drawing I’d seen. It paid well, for I took -one-and-ninepence on it. The next thing I tried was writing ‘God save -the Queen;’ and that, too, paid capital, for I think I got two bob. -After that I tried We Har (V. R.) and a star, and that was a sweep too. -I never did no flowers, but I’ve done imitations of laurels, and put -them all round the crossing, and very pretty it looked, too, at night. -I’d buy a farthing candle and stick it over it, and make it nice and -comfortable, so that the people could look at it easy. Whenever I see -a carriage coming I used to douse the glim and run away with it, but -the wheels would regularly spile the drawings, and then we’d have all -the trouble to put it to rights again, and that we used to do with our -hands. - -“I fust learnt drawing in the mud from a man in Adelaide-street, -Strand; he kept a crossing, but he only used to draw ’em close to the -kerb-stone. He used to keep some soft mud there, and when a carriage -come up to the Lowther Arcade, after he’d opened the door and let the -lady out, he would set to work, and by the time she come back he’d have -some flowers, or a We Har, or whatever he liked, done in the mud, and -underneath he’d write, ‘Please to remember honnest hindustry.’ - -“I used to stand by and see him do it, until I’d learnt, and when I -knowed, I went off and did it at my crossing. - -“I was the fust to light up at night though, and now I wish I’d never -done it, for it was that which got me turned off my crossing, and -a capital one it was. I thought the gentlemen coming from the play -would like it, for it looked very pretty. The policeman said I was -destructing (obstructing) the thoroughfare, and making too much row -there, for the people used to stop in the crossing to look, it were so -pretty. He took me in charge three times on one night, cause I wouldn’t -go away; but he let me go again, till at last I thought he would lock -me up for the night, so I hooked it. - -“It was after this as I went to St. Martin’s Church, and I haven’t -done half as well there. Last night I took three-ha’pence; but I was -larking, or I might have had more.” - -As a proof of the very small expense which is required for the toilette -of a crossing-sweeper, I may mention, that within a few minutes after -Master Gander had finished his statement, he was in possession of a -coat, for which he had paid the sum of fivepence. - -When he brought it into the room, all the boys and the women crowded -round to see the purchase. - -“It’s a very good un,” said the Goose. “It only wants just taking up -here and there; and this cuff putting to rights.” And as he spoke he -pointed to tears large enough for a head to be thrust through. - -“I’ve seen that coat before, sum’ares,” said one of the women; “where -did you get it?” - -“At the chandly-shop,” answered the Goose. - - -THE “KING” OF THE TUMBLING-BOY CROSSING-SWEEPERS. - -The young sweeper who had been styled by his companions the “King” was -a pretty-looking boy, only tall enough to rest his chin comfortably -on the mantel-piece as he talked to me, and with a pair of grey eyes -that were as bright and clear as drops of sea-water. He was clad in a -style in no way agreeing with his royal title; for he had on a kind of -dirt-coloured shooting-coat of tweed, which was fraying into a kind of -cobweb at the edges and elbows. His trousers too, were rather faulty, -for there was a pink-wrinkled dot of flesh at one of the knees; while -their length was too great for his majesty’s short legs, so that they -had to be rolled up at the end like a washerwoman’s sleeves. - -His royal highness was of a restless disposition, and, whilst -talking, lifted up, one after another, the different ornaments on the -mantel-piece, frowning and looking at them sideways, as he pondered -over the replies he should make to my questions. - -When I arrived at the grandmother’s apartment the “king” was absent, -his majesty having been sent with a pitcher to fetch some spring-water. - -The “king” also was kind enough to favour me with samples of his -wondrous tumbling powers. He could bend his little legs round till they -curved like the long German sausages we see in the ham-and-beef shops; -and when he turned head over heels, he curled up his tiny body as -closely as a wood-louse, and then rolled along, wabbling like an egg. - -“The boys call me Johnny,” he said; “and I’m getting on for eleven, -and I goes along with the Goose and Harry, a-sweeping at St. Martin’s -Church, and about there. I used, too, to go to the crossing where the -statute is, sir, at the bottom of the Haymarket. I went along with -the others; sometimes there were three or four of us, or sometimes -one, sir. I never used to sweep unless it was wet. I don’t go out not -before twelve or one in the day; it ain’t no use going before that; and -beside, I couldn’t get up before that, I’m too sleepy. I don’t stop out -so late as the other boys; they sometimes stop all night, but I don’t -like that. The Goose was out all night along with Martin; they went all -along up Piccirilly, and there they climbed over the Park railings and -went a birding all by themselves, and then they went to sleep for an -hour on the grass--so they says. I likes better to come home to my bed. -It kills me for the next day when I do stop out all night. The Goose is -always out all night; he likes it. - -“Neither father nor mother’s alive, sir, but I lives along with -grandmother and aunt, as owns this room, and I always gives them all I -gets. - -“Sometimes I makes a shilling, sometimes sixpence, and sometimes less. -I can never take nothink of a day, only of a night, because I can’t -tumble of a day, and I can of a night. - -“The Gander taught me tumbling, and he was the first as did it along -the crossings. I can tumble quite as well as the Goose; I can turn a -caten-wheel, and he can’t, and I can go further on forards than him, -but I can’t tumble backards as he can. I can’t do a handspring, though. -Why, a handspring’s pitching yourself forards on both hands, turning -over in front, and lighting on your feet; that’s very difficult, and -very few can do it. There’s one little chap, but he’s very clever, and -can tie himself up in a knot a’most. I’m best at caten-wheels; I can -do ’em twelve or fourteen times running--keep on at it. It just _does_ -tire you, that’s all. When I gets up I feels quite giddy. I can tumble -about forty times over head and heels. I does the most of that, and I -thinks it’s the most difficult, but I can’t say which gentlemen likes -best. You see they are anigh sick of the head-and-heels tumbling, and -then werry few of the boys can do caten-wheels on the crossings--only -two or three besides me. - -“When I see anybody coming, I says, ‘Please, sir, give me a halfpenny,’ -and touches my hair, and then I throws a caten-wheel, and has a look at -’em, and if I sees they are laughing, then I goes on and throws more of -’em. Perhaps one in ten will give a chap something. Some of ’em will -give you a threepenny-bit or p’rhaps sixpence, and others only give -you a kick. Well, sir, I should say they likes tumbling over head and -heels; if you can keep it up twenty times then they begins laughing, -but if you only does it once, some of ’em will say, ‘Oh, I could do -that myself,’ and then they don’t give nothink. - -“I know they calls me the King of Tumblers, and I think I can tumble -the best of them; none of them is so good as me, only the Goose at -tumbling backards. - -“We don’t crab one another when we are sweeping; if we was to crab -one another, we’d get to fighting and giving slaps of the jaw to one -another. So when we sees anybody coming, we cries, ‘My gentleman and -lady coming here;’ ‘My lady;’ ‘My two gentlemens;’ and if any other -chap gets the money, then we says, ‘I named them, now I’ll have -halves.’ And if he won’t give it, then we’ll smug his broom or his cap. -I’m the littlest chap among our lot, but if a fellow like the Goose was -to take my naming then I’d smug somethink. I shouldn’t mind his licking -me, I’d smug his money and get his halfpence or somethink. If a chap as -can’t tumble sees a sporting gent coming and names him, he says to one -of us tumblers, ‘Now, then, who’ll give us halves?’ and then we goes -and tumbles and shares. The sporting gentlemens likes tumbling; they -kicks up more row laughing than a dozen others. - -“Sometimes at night we goes down to Covent Garden, to where Hevans’s -is, but not till all the plays is over, cause Hevans’s don’t shut afore -two or three. When the people comes out we gets tumbling afore them. -Some of the drunken gentlemens is shocking spiteful, and runs after a -chap and gives us a cut with the cane; some of the others will give us -money, and some will buy our broom off us for sixpence. Me and Jemmy -sold the two of our brooms for a shilling to two drunken gentlemens, -and they began kicking up a row, and going before other gentlemens and -pretending to sweep, and taking off their hats begging, like a mocking -of us. They danced about with the brooms, flourishing ’em in the air, -and knocking off people’s hats; and at last they got into a cab, and -chucked the brooms away. The drunken gentlemens is always either jolly -or spiteful. - -“But I goes only to the Haymarket, and about Pall Mall, now. I used to -be going up to Hevans’s every night, but I can’t take my money up there -now. I stands at the top of the Haymarket by Windmill-street, and when -I sees a lady and gentleman coming out of the Argyle, then I begs of -them as they comes across. I says--‘Can’t you give me a ha’penny, sir, -poor little Jack? I’ll stand on my nose for a penny;’--and then they -laughs at that. - -“Goose can stand on his nose as well as me; we puts the face flat -down on the ground, instead of standing on our heads. There’s Duckey -Dunnovan, and the Stuttering Baboon, too, and two others as well, as -can do it; but the Stuttering Baboon’s getting too big and fat to do it -well; he’s a very awkward tumbler. It don’t hurt, only at larning; cos -you bears more on your hands than your nose. - -“Sometimes they says--‘Well, let us see you do it,’ and then p’raps -they’ll search in their pockets, and say--‘O, I haven’t got any -coppers:’ so then we’ll force ’em, and p’raps they’ll pull out their -purse and gives us a little bit of silver. - -“Ah, we works hard for what we gets, and then there’s the policemen -birching us. Some of ’em is so spiteful, they takes up their belt what -they uses round the waist to keep their coat tight, and’ll hit us with -the buckle; but we generally gives ’em the lucky dodge and gets out of -their way. - -“One night, two gentlemen, officers they was, was standing in the -Haymarket, and a drunken man passed by. There was snow on the ground, -and we’d been begging of ’em, and says one of them--‘I’ll give you a -shilling if you’ll knock that drunken man over.’ We was three of us; so -we set on him, and soon had him down. After he got up he went and told -the policemen, but we all cut round different ways and got off, and -then met again. We didn’t get the shilling, though, cos a boy crabbed -us. He went up to the gentleman, and says he--‘Give it me, sir, I’m the -boy;’ and then we says--‘No, sir, it’s us.’ So, says the officer--‘I -sharn’t give it to none of you,’ and puts it back again in his pockets. -We broke a broom over the boy as crabbed us, and then we cut down -Waterloo-place, and afterwards we come up to the Haymarket again, and -there we met the officers again. I did a caten-wheel, and then says -I--‘Then won’t you give me un now?’ and they says--‘Go and sweep some -mud on that woman.’ So I went and did it, and then they takes me in a -pastry-shop at the corner, and they tells me to tumble on the tables in -the shop. I nearly broke one of ’em, they were so delicate. They gived -me a fourpenny meat-pie and two penny sponge-cakes, which I puts in my -pocket, cos there was another sharing with me. The lady of the shop -kept on screaming--‘Go and fetch me a police--take the dirty boy out,’ -cos I was standing on the tables in my muddy feet, and the officers was -a bursting their sides with laughing; and says they, ‘No, he sharn’t -stir.’ - -“I was frightened, cos if the police had come they’d been safe and sure -to have took me. They made me tumble from the door to the end of the -shop, and back again, and then I turned ’em a caten-wheel, and was near -knocking down all the things as was on the counter. - -“They didn’t give me no money, only pies; but I got a shilling -another time for tumbling to some French ladies and gentlemen in a -pastry-cook’s shop under the Colonnade. I often goes into a shop like -that; I’ve done it a good many times. - -“There was a gentleman once as belonged to a ‘suckus,’ (circus) as -wanted to take me with him abroad, and teach me tumbling. He had a -little mustache, and used to belong to Drury-lane play-house, riding -on horses. I went to his place, and stopped there some time. He taught -me to put my leg round my neck, and I was just getting along nicely -with the splits (going down on the ground with both legs extended), -when I left him. They (the splits) used to hurt worst of all; very bad -for the thighs. I used, too, to hang with my leg round his neck. When -I did anythink he liked, he used to be clapping me on the back. He -wasn’t so very stunning well off, for he never had what I calls a good -dinner--grandmother used to have a better dinner than he,--perhaps only -a bit of scrag of mutton between three of us. I don’t like meat nor -butter, but I likes dripping, and they never had none there. The wife -used to drink--ay, very much, on the sly. She used when he was out to -send me round with a bottle and sixpence to get a quartern of gin for -her, and she’d take it with three or four oysters. Grandmother didn’t -like the notion of my going away, so she went down one day, and says -she--‘I wants my child;’ and the wife says--‘That’s according to the -master’s likings;’ and then grandmother says--‘What, not my own child?’ -And then grandmother began talking, and at last, when the master come -home, he says to me--‘Which will you do, stop here, or go home with -your grandmother?’ So I come along with her. - -“I’ve been sweeping the crossings getting on for two years. Before -that I used to go caten-wheeling after the busses. I don’t like the -sweeping, and I don’t think there’s e’er a one of us wot likes it. In -the winter we has to be out in the cold, and then in summer we have to -sleep out all night, or go asleep on the church-steps, reg’lar tired -out. - -“One of us’ll say at night--‘Oh, I’m sleepy now, who’s game for a doss? -I’m for a doss;’--and then we go eight or ten of us into a doorway of -the church, where they keep the dead in a kind of airy-like underneath, -and there we go to sleep. The most of the boys has got no homes. -Perhaps they’ve got the price of a lodging, but they’re hungry, and -they eats the money, and then they must lay out. There’s some of ’em -will stop out in the wet for perhaps the sake of a halfpenny, and get -themselves sopping wet. I think all our chaps would like to get out of -the work if they could; I’m sure Goose would, and so would I. - -“All the boys call me the King, because I tumbles so well, and some -calls me ‘Pluck,’ and some ‘Judy.’ I’m called ‘Pluck,’ cause I’m so -plucked a going at the gentlemen! Tommy Dunnovan--‘Tipperty Tight’--we -calls him, cos his trousers is so tight he can hardly move in them -sometimes,--he was the first as called me ‘Judy.’ Dunnovan once -swallowed a pill for a shilling. A gentleman in the Haymarket says--‘If -you’ll swallow this here pill I’ll give you a shilling;’ and Jimmy -says, ‘All right, sir;’ and he puts it in his mouth, and went to the -water-pails near the cab-stand and swallowed it. - -“All the chaps in our gang likes me, and we all likes one another. We -always shows what we gets given to us to eat. - -“Sometimes we gets one another up wild, and then that fetches up a -fight, but that isn’t often. When two of us fights, the others stands -round and sees fair play. There was a fight last night between ‘Broke -his Bones’--as we calls Antony Hones--and Neddy Hall--the ‘Sparrow,’ -or ‘Spider,’ we calls him,--something about the root of a pineapple, -as we was aiming with at one another, and that called up a fight. We -all stood round and saw them at it, but neither of ’em licked, for -they gived in for to-day, and they’re to finish it to-night. We makes -’em fight fair. We all of us likes to see a fight, but not to fight -ourselves. Hones is sure to beat, as Spider is as thin as a wafer, and -all bones. I can lick the Spider, though he’s twice my size.” - - -THE STREET WHERE THE BOY-SWEEPERS LODGED. - -I was anxious to see the room in which the gang of boy -crossing-sweepers lived, so that I might judge of their peculiar style -of house-keeping, and form some notion of their principles of domestic -economy. - -I asked young Harry and “the Goose” to conduct me to their lodgings, -and they at once consented, “the Goose” prefacing his compliance with -the remark, that “it wern’t such as genilmen had been accustomed to, -but then I must take ’em as they was.” - -The boys led me in the direction of Drury-lane; and before entering one -of the narrow streets which branch off like the side-bones of a fish’s -spine from that long thoroughfare, they thought fit to caution me that -I was not to be frightened, as nobody would touch me, for all was very -civil. - -The locality consisted of one of those narrow streets which, were it -not for the paved cartway in the centre would be called a court. Seated -on the pavement at each side of the entrance was a costerwoman with her -basket before her, and her legs tucked up mysteriously under her gown -into a round ball, so that her figure resembled in shape the plaster -tumblers sold by the Italians. These women remained as inanimate as -if they had been carved images, and it was only when a passenger went -by that they gave signs of life, by calling out in a low voice, like -talking to themselves, “Two for three haarpence--herrens,”--“Fine -hinguns.” - -The street itself is like the description given of thoroughfares in the -East. Opposite neighbours could not exactly shake hands out of window, -but they could talk together very comfortably; and, indeed, as I passed -along, I observed several women with their arms folded up like a cat’s -paws on the sill, and chatting with their friends over the way. - -Nearly all the inhabitants were costermongers, and, indeed, the narrow -cartway seemed to have been made just wide enough for a truck to -wheel down it. A beershop and a general store, together with a couple -of sweeps,--whose residences were distinguished by a broom over the -door,--formed the only exceptions to the street-selling class of -inhabitants. - -As I entered the place, it gave me the notion that it belonged to -a distinct coster colony, and formed one large hawkers’ home; for -everybody seemed to be doing just as he liked, and I was stared at as -if considered an intruder. Women were seated on the pavement, knitting, -and repairing their linen; the doorways were filled up with bonnetless -girls, who wore their shawls over their head, as the Spanish women do -their mantillas; and the youths in corduroy and brass buttons, who were -chatting with them, leant against the walls as they smoked their pipes, -and blocked up the pavement, as if they were the proprietors of the -place. Little children formed a convenient bench out of the kerb-stone; -and a party of four men were seated on the footway, playing with cards -which had turned to the colour of brown paper from long usage, and -marking the points with chalk upon the flags. - -The parlour-windows of the houses had all of them wooden shutters, as -thick and clumsy-looking as a kitchen flap-table, the paint of which -had turned to the dull dirt-colour of an old slate. Some of these -shutters were evidently never used as a security for the dwelling, but -served only as tables on which to chalk the accounts of the day’s sales. - -Before most of the doors were costermongers’ trucks--some standing -ready to be wheeled off, and others stained and muddy with the day’s -work. A few of the costers were dressing up their barrows, arranging -the sieves of waxy-looking potatoes--and others taking the stiff -herrings, browned like a meerschaum with the smoke they had been dried -in, from the barrels beside them, and spacing them out in pennyworths -on their trays. - -You might guess what each costermonger had taken out that day by the -heap of refuse swept into the street before the doors. One house had -a blue mound of mussel-shells in front of it--another, a pile of the -outside leaves of broccoli and cabbages, turning yellow and slimy with -bruises and moisture. - -Hanging up beside some of the doors were bundles of old strawberry -pottles, stained red with the fruit. Over the trap-doors to the cellars -were piles of market-gardeners’ sieves, ruddled like a sheep’s back -with big red letters. In fact, everything that met the eye seemed to be -in some way connected with the coster’s trade. - -From the windows poles stretched out, on which blankets, petticoats, -and linen were drying; and so numerous were they, that they reminded -me of the flags hung out at a Paris fête. Some of the sheets had -patches as big as trap-doors let into their centres; and the blankets -were--many of them--as full of holes as a pigeon-house. - -As I entered the court, a “row” was going on; and from a first-floor -window a lady, whose hair sadly wanted brushing, was haranguing a -crowd beneath, throwing her arms about like a drowning man, and in her -excitement thrusting her body half out of her temporary rostrum as -energetically as I have seen Punch lean over his theatre. - -“The willin dragged her,” she shouted, “by the hair of her head, at -least three yards into the court--the willin! and then he kicked her, -and the blood was on his boot.” - -It was a sweep who had been behaving in this cowardly manner; but still -he had his defenders in the women around him. One with very shiny hair, -and an Indian kerchief round her neck, answered the lady in the window, -by calling her a “d----d old cat;” whilst the sweep’s wife rushed -about, clapping her hands together as quickly as if she was applauding -at a theatre, and styled somebody or other “an old wagabones as she -wouldn’t dirty her hands to fight with.” - -This “row” had the effect of drawing all the lodgers to the -windows--their heads popping out as suddenly as dogs from their kennels -in a fancier’s yard. - - -THE BOY-SWEEPERS’ ROOM. - -The room where the boys lodged was scarcely bigger than a coach-house; -and so low was the ceiling, that a fly-paper suspended from a -clothes-line was on a level with my head, and had to be carefully -avoided when I moved about. - -One corner of the apartment was completely filled up by a big four-post -bedstead, which fitted into a kind of recess as perfectly as if it had -been built to order. - -The old woman who kept this lodging had endeavoured to give it a homely -look of comfort, by hanging little black-framed pictures, scarcely -bigger than pocket-books, on the walls. Most of these were sacred -subjects, with large yellow glories round the heads; though between -the drawing representing the bleeding heart of Christ, and the Saviour -bearing the Cross, was an illustration of a red-waistcoated sailor -smoking his pipe. The Adoration of the Shepherds, again, was matched on -the other side of the fireplace by a portrait of Daniel O’Connell. - -A chest of drawers was covered over with a green baize cloth, on which -books, shelves, and clean glasses were tidily set out. - -Where so many persons (for there were about eight of them, including -the landlady, her daughter, and grandson) could all sleep, puzzled me -extremely. - -The landlady wore a frilled nightcap, which fitted so closely to the -skull, that it was evident she had lost her hair. One of her eyes -was slowly recovering from a blow, which, to use her own words, “a -blackgeyard gave her.” Her lip, too, had suffered in the encounter, for -it was swollen and cut. - -“I’ve a nice flock-bid for the boys,” she said, when I inquired into -the accommodation of her lodging-house, “where three of them can slape -aisy and comfortable.” - -“It’s a large bed, sir,” said one of the boys, “and a warm covering -over us; and you see it’s better than a regular lodging-house; for, if -you want a knife or a cup, you don’t have to leave something on it till -it’s returned.” - -The old woman spoke up for her lodgers, telling me that they were good -boys, and very honest; “for,” she added, “they pays me rig’lar ivery -night, which is threepence.” - -The only youth as to whose morals she seemed to be at all doubtful was -“the Goose,” “for he kept late hours, and sometimes came home without a -penny in his pocket.” - - -_B. The Girl Crossing-Sweepers._ - -THE GIRL CROSSING-SWEEPER SENT OUT BY HER FATHER. - -A little girl, who worked by herself at her own crossing, gave me some -curious information on the subject. - -This child had a peculiarly flat face, with a button of a nose, while -her mouth was scarcely larger than a button-hole. When she spoke, there -was not the slightest expression visible in her features; indeed, one -might have fancied she wore a mask and was talking behind it; but -her eyes were shining the while as brightly as those of a person in a -fever, and kept moving about, restless with her timidity. The green -frock she wore was fastened close to the neck, and was turning into a -kind of mouldy tint; she also wore a black stuff apron, stained with -big patches of gruel, “from feeding baby at home,” as she said. Her -hair was tidily dressed, being drawn tightly back from the forehead, -like the buy-a-broom girls; and as she stood with her hands thrust up -her sleeves, she curtseyed each time before answering, bobbing down -like a float, as though the floor under her had suddenly given way. - -“I’m twelve years old, please sir, and my name is Margaret R----, and I -sweep a crossing in New Oxford-street, by Dunn’s-passage, just facing -Moses and Sons’, sir; by the Catholic school, sir. Mother’s been dead -these two year, sir, and father’s a working cutler, sir; and I lives -with him, but he don’t get much to do, and so I’m obligated to help -him, doing what I can, sir. Since mother’s been dead, I’ve had to mind -my little brother and sister, so that I haven’t been to school; but -when I goes a crossing-sweeping I takes them along with me, and they -sits on the steps close by, sir. If it’s wet I has to stop at home and -take care of them, for father depends upon me for looking after them. -Sister’s three and a-half year old, and brother’s five year, so he’s -just beginning to help me, sir. I hope he’ll get something better than -a crossing when he grows up. - -“First of all I used to go singing songs in the streets, sir. It was -when father had no work, so he stopped at home and looked after the -children. I used to sing the ‘Red, White, and Blue,’ and ‘Mother, is -the Battle over?’ and ‘The Gipsy Girl,’ and sometimes I’d get fourpence -or fivepence, and sometimes I’d have a chance of making ninepence, -sir. Sometimes, though, I’d take a shilling of a Saturday night in the -markets. - -“At last the songs grew so stale people wouldn’t listen to them, and, -as I carn’t read, I couldn’t learn any more, sir. My big brother and -father used to learn me some, but I never could get enough out of them -for the streets; besides, father was out of work still, and we couldn’t -get money enough to buy ballads with, and it’s no good singing without -having them to sell. We live over there, sir, (pointing to a window on -the other side of the narrow street). - -“The notion come into my head all of itself to sweep crossings, sir. As -I used to go up Regent-street I used to see men and women, and girls -and boys, sweeping, and the people giving them money, so I thought I’d -do the same thing. That’s how it come about. Just now the weather is so -dry, I don’t go to my crossing, but goes out singing. I’ve learnt some -new songs, such as ‘The Queen of the Navy for ever,’ and ‘The Widow’s -Last Prayer,’ which is about the wars. I only go sweeping in wet -weather, because then’s the best time. When I am there, there’s some -ladies and gentlemen as gives to me regular. I knows them by sight; and -there’s a beer-shop where they give me some bread and cheese whenever I -go. - -“I generally takes about sixpence, or sevenpence, or eightpence on -the crossing, from about nine o’clock in the morning till four in the -evening, when I come home. I don’t stop out at nights because father -won’t let me, and I’m got to be home to see to baby. - -“My broom costs me twopence ha’penny, and in wet weather it lasts a -week, but in dry weather we seldom uses it. - -“When I sees the busses and carriages coming I stands on the side, -for I’m afeard of being runned over. In winter I goes out and cleans -ladies’ doors, general about Lincoln’s-inn, for the housekeepers. -I gets twopence a door, but it takes a long time when the ice is -hardened, so that I carn’t do only about two or three. - -“I carn’t tell whether I shall always stop at sweeping, but I’ve no -clothes, and so I carn’t get a situation; for, though I’m small and -young, yet I could do housework, such as cleaning. - -“No, sir, there’s no gang on my crossing--I’m all alone. If another -girl or a boy was to come and take it when I’m not there, I should stop -on it as well as him or her, and go shares with ’em.” - - -GIRL CROSSING-SWEEPER. - -I was told that a little girl formed one of the association of young -sweepers, and at my request one of the boys went to fetch her. - -She was a clean-washed little thing, with a pretty, expressive -countenance, and each time she was asked a question she frowned, like -a baby in its sleep, while thinking of the answer. In her ears she -wore instead of rings loops of string, “which the doctor had put there -because her sight was wrong.” A cotton velvet bonnet, scarcely larger -than the sun-shades worn at the sea-side, hung on her shoulders, -leaving exposed her head, with the hair as rough as tow. Her green -stuff gown was hanging in tatters, with long three-cornered rents -as large as penny kites, showing the grey lining underneath; and -her mantle was separated into so many pieces, that it was only held -together by the braiding at the edge. - -As she conversed with me, she played with the strings of her bonnet, -rolling them up as if curling them, on her singularly small and also -singularly dirty fingers. - -“I’ll be fourteen, sir, a fortnight before next Christmas. I was born -in Liquorpond-street, Gray’s Inn-lane. Father come over from Ireland, -and was a bricklayer. He had pains in his limbs and wasn’t strong -enough, so he give it over. He’s dead now--been dead a long time, sir. -I was a littler girl then than I am now, for I wasn’t above eleven at -that time. I lived with mother after father died. She used to sell -things in the streets--yes, sir, she was a coster. About a twelvemonth -after father’s death, mother was taken bad with the cholera, and -died. I then went along with both grandmother and grandfather, who -was a porter in Newgate Market; I stopped there until I got a place -as servant of all-work. I was only turned, just turned, eleven then. -I worked along with a French lady and gentleman in Hatton Garden, who -used to give me a shilling a-week and my tea. I used to go home to -grandmother’s to dinner every day. I hadn’t to do any work, only just -to clean the room and nuss the child. It was a nice little thing. I -couldn’t understand what the French people used to say, but there was a -boy working there, and he used to explain to me what they meant. - -“I left them because they was going to a place called Italy--perhaps -you may have heerd tell of it, sir. Well, I suppose they must have -been Italians, but we calls everybody, whose talk we don’t understand, -French. I went back to grandmother’s, but, after grandfather died, she -couldn’t keep me, and so I went out begging--she sent me. I carried -lucifer-matches and stay-laces fust. I used to carry about a dozen -laces, and perhaps I’d sell six out of them. I suppose I used to make -about sixpence a-day, and I used to take it home to grandmother, who -kept and fed me. - -“At last, finding I didn’t get much at begging, I thought I’d go -crossing-sweeping. I saw other children doing it. I says to myself, -‘I’ll go and buy a broom,’ and I spoke to another little girl, who was -sweeping up Holborn, who told me what I was to do. ‘But,’ says she, -‘don’t come and cut up me.’ - -“I went fust to Holborn, near to home, at the end of Red Lion-street. -Then I was frightened of the cabs and carriages, but I’d get there -early, about eight o’clock, and sweep the crossing clean, and I’d stand -at the side on the pavement, and speak to the gentlemen and ladies -before they crossed. - -“There was a couple of boys, sweepers at the same crossing before I -went there. I went to them and asked if I might come and sweep there -too, and they said Yes, if I would give them some of the halfpence I -got. These was boys about as old as I was, and they said, if I earned -sixpence, I was to give them twopence a-piece; but they never give me -nothink of theirs. I never took more than sixpence, and out of that I -had to give fourpence, so that I did not do so well as with the laces. - -“The crossings made my hands sore with the sweeping, and, as I got so -little, I thought I’d try somewhere else. Then I got right down to -the Fountings in Trafalgar-square, by the crossing at the statey on -’orseback. There were a good many boys and girls on that crossing at -the time--five of them; so I went along with them. When I fust went -they said, ‘Here’s another fresh ’un.’ They come up to me and says, -‘Are you going to sweep here?’ and I says, ‘Yes;’ and they says, ‘You -mustn’t come here, there’s too many;’ and I says, ‘They’re different -ones every day,’--for they’re not regular there, but shift about, -sometimes one lot of boys and girls, and the next day another. They -didn’t say another word to me, and so I stopped. - -“It’s a capital crossing, but there’s so many of us, it spiles it. I -seldom gets more than sevenpence a-day, which I always takes home to -grandmother. - -“I’ve been on that crossing about three months. They always calls me -Ellen, my regular name, and behaves very well to me. If I see anybody -coming, I call them out as the boys does, and then they are mine. - -“There’s a boy and myself, and another strange girl, works on our side -of the statey, and another lot of boys and girls on the other. - -“I like Saturdays the best day of the week, because that’s the time -as gentlemen as has been at work has their money, and then they are -more generous. I gets more then, perhaps ninepence, but not quite a -shilling, on the Saturday. - -“I’ve had a threepenny-bit give to me, but never sixpence. It was a -gentleman, and I should know him again. Ladies gives me less than -gentlemen. I foller ’em, saying, ‘If you please, sir, give a poor girl -a halfpenny;’ but if the police are looking, I stop still. - -“I never goes out on Sunday, but stops at home with grandmother. I -don’t stop out at nights like the boys, but I gets home by ten at -latest.” - - - - -INDEX. - - - Articles for amusement, second-hand sellers of, 16 - - - Bear-baiting, 54 - - Bedding, &c., second-hand sellers of, 15 - - Bird-catchers who are street sellers, 64 - - ---- duffers, tricks of, 69 - - ---- street-seller, the crippled, 66 - - Birds’-nests, sellers of, 72 - - ---- ---- ---- life of a, 74 - - Birds, stuffed, sellers of, 23 - - ---- live, sellers of, 58 - - ---- foreign, sellers of, 70 - - Bone-grubbers, 139 - - ---- ---- narrative of a, 141 - - Boots and shoes, second-hand, sellers of, 42 - - Boy crossing-sweepers’ room, 504 - - Brisk and slack seasons, 297 - - Brushes, second-hand, sellers of, 22 - - Burnt linen or calico, 13 - - - Cabinet-ware, second-hand, sellers of, 22 - - Casual labour in general, 297 - - ---- ---- brisk and slack seasons, 297 - - ---- ---- among the chimney-sweeps, 374 - - Carpeting, &c., second-hand, sellers of, 14 - - Cesspool emptying by trunk and hose, 447 - - Cesspool system of London, 437 - - ---- ---- of Paris, 438 - - Cesspool-sewerman, statement of a, 448 - - Cesspoolage and nightmen, 433 - - Chimney-sweepers, the London, 339 - - ---- ---- of old, and climbing-boys, 346 - - ---- ---- stealing children, 347 - - ---- ---- sores and diseases, 350 - - ---- ---- accidents, 351 - - ---- ---- cruelties towards, 352 - - ---- ---- of the present day, 354 - - ---- ---- work and wages, 357 - - ---- ---- general characteristics of, 365 - - ---- ---- dress and diet, 366 - - ---- ---- abodes, 367 - - ---- ---- festival at May-day, 371 - - ---- ---- “leeks”, 375 - - ---- ---- knullers and queriers, 376 - - Cigar-end finders, 145 - - Clocks, second-hand, sellers of, 23 - - Clothes worn in town and country, table showing comparative - cost of, 192 - - Coal, consumption of, 169 - - ---- sellers of, 81 - - Coke, sellers of, 85 - - Commissioners of Sewers, powers of, 416 - - “Coshar” meat killed for the Jews, 121 - - Criminals, number of, in England and Wales, 320 - - Crossing-sweeper, the aristocratic, 467 - - ---- ---- the bearded, 471 - - ---- ---- a Regent-Street, 474 - - ---- ---- a tradesman’s, 476 - - ---- ---- “old woman over the water”, 477 - - ---- ---- old woman who had been a pensioner, 478 - - ---- ---- one who had been a servant-maid, 479 - - ---- ---- the female Irish, 482 - - ---- ---- the Sunday, 484 - - ---- ---- the wooden-legged, 486 - - ---- ---- the one-legged, 488 - - ---- ---- the most severely afflicted, 488 - - ---- ---- the negro who lost both his legs, 490 - - ---- ---- the maimed Irish, 493 - - ---- ---- Mike’s statement, 498 - - ---- ---- Gander the captain, 499 - - ---- ---- the king of the tumbling-boy crossing-sweepers, 501 - - ---- ---- the girl sweeper sent out by her father, 505 - - Crossing-sweepers, 465 - - ---- ---- able-bodied male, 467 - - ---- ---- who have got permission from the police, narratives of, 472 - - ---- ---- able-bodied Irish, 481 - - ---- ---- the occasional, 484 - - ---- ---- the afflicted, 486 - - ---- ---- boy, and tumblers, 494 - - ---- ---- where they lodge, 503 - - ---- ---- their room, 504 - - ---- ---- girl, 505 - - Curiosities, second-hand, sellers of, 21 - - Curtains, second-hand, sellers of, 14 - - - Dog “finder’s” career, a, 51 - - Dog-finders, stealers, and restorers, the former, 48 - - ---- ---- extent of their trade, 49 - - Dogs, sellers of, 52 - - ---- sporting, sellers of, 54 - - “Dolly” business, the, 108 - - Dredgers, the, or river-finders, 147 - - Dust-contractors, 168 - - Dust-heap, composition of a, 171 - - ---- ---- separation of, 172 - - Dustmen, the, 166 - - ---- “filler” and “carrier”, 175 - - ---- their general character, 177 - - Dustmen, sweeps, and nightmen, 159 - - ---- number of, 162 - - - Employers, “cutting,” varieties of, 232 - - ---- “drivers”, 233 - - ---- “grinders”, 233 - - - Fires of London, 378 - - ---- abstract of causes of, 379 - - ---- extinction of, 381 - - Flushermen, the working, 428 - - ---- history of an individual, 430 - - Furs, second-hand, sellers of, 45 - - - Gander, the “captain” of the boy sweepers, 499 - - Garret workmen, labour of, 302 - - Glass and crockery, second-hand, sellers of, 15 - - Gold and silver fish, sellers of, 78 - - - Hare and rabbit-skins, buyers of, 111 - - Harness, second-hand, sellers of, 23 - - Hill men and women, 173 - - Hogs’-wash, buyers of, 132 - - Home work, 313 - - Horse, food consumed by, and excretions in twenty-four hours, 194 - - Horse-dung of the streets of London, 193 - - ---- ---- gross annual weight of, 195 - - House-drainage, as connected with the sewers, 395 - - - Iron Jack, 11 - - - Jew old clothes-men, 119 - - ---- street-seller, life of a, 122 - - ---- boy street-sellers, 122 - - ---- their pursuits, traffic, &c., 123 - - ---- girl street-sellers, 124 - - ---- sellers of accordions, &c., 131 - - Jews, the street, 115 - - ---- history of, 117 - - ---- trades and localities, 117 - - ---- habits and diet, 121 - - ---- synagogues and religion, 125 - - ---- politics, literature, and amusements, 126 - - ---- charities, schools, and education, 127 - - ---- funeral ceremonies, fasts, and customs, 131 - - Jewesses, street, the, 124 - - - Kitchen-stuff, grease, and dripping, buyers of, 111 - - Knullers and queriers, 376 - - - Labour, economy of, 307 - - Lasts, second-hand, sellers of, 23 - - “Leeks,” the, 375 - - Leverets, wild rabbits, &c., sellers of, 77 - - Linen, second-hand, sellers of, 13 - - Live animals, sellers of, 47 - - London street drains, 398 - - ---- ---- ---- extent of, 400 - - ---- ---- ---- order of, 401 - - ---- ---- ---- outlets, ramifications, &c., of, 405 - - Low wages, remedies for, 254 - - “Lurker’s,” a, career, 51 - - - Marine-store shops, 108 - - May-day, 370 - - May-day, sweeps’ festival, 371 - - Men’s second-hand clothes, sellers of, 40 - - Metal trays, second-hand, sellers of, 12 - - Metropolitan police district, the, 159 - - ---- inhabited houses, 164 - - ---- population, 165 - - “Middleman” system of work, 329 - - Monmouth-street, Dickens’s description of, 36 - - Mud-larks, 155 - - ---- ---- story of a reclaimed, 158 - - Mineral productions and natural curiosities, sellers of, 81 - - Music “duffers”, 19 - - Musical instruments, second-hand, sellers of, 18 - - - Night-soil, present disposal of, 448 - - Nightmen, the, working and mode of work, 450 - - - Offal, how disposed of, 7 - - Old Clothes Exchange, the, 26 - - ---- ---- ---- wholesale business at the, 27 - - Old clothes-men, 119 - - Old hats, sellers of, 43 - - Old John, the waterman, statement of, 480 - - Old woman “over the water,” the, 477 - - Old wood gatherers, 146 - - - Paris, cesspool and sewer system of, 439 - - ---- rag-gatherers of, 141 - - Paupers, street-sweeping, narratives of, 245 - - ----, number of, in England and Wales, 320 - - Petticoat-lane, street-sellers of, 36 - - “Pure” finders, 143 - - ---- ---- narrative of a female, 144 - - Purl-men, the, 93 - - - “Rag and bottle” shops, 108 - - Rag-gatherers, 139 - - Rags, broken metal, bottles, glass, and bone, buyers of, 106 - - “Ramoneur Company,” the, 373 - - Rat-killing, 56 - - River beer-sellers, 93 - - River finders, 147 - - Rosemary-lane, street sellers of, 39 - - Rubbish-carters, the, 281, 289 - - ---- ---- wages and perquisites of, 292 - - ---- ---- social characteristics of, 295 - - ---- ---- casual labourers among, 323 - - ---- ---- scurf trade among, 327 - - - Salt, sellers of, 89 - - Sand, sellers of, 90 - - Scavenger, statement of a “regular”, 224 - - Scavengers, master, of former times, 205 - - ---- ---- oath of, 206 - - ---- working, 216 - - ---- labour and rates of payment, 219 - - ---- “casual hands”, 220 - - ---- habits and diet, 226 - - ---- influence of free trade on their earnings, 228 - - ---- worse paid, the, 232 - - Scavengery, contractors for, 210 - - ---- contractors, regulations of, 211 - - ---- contractors, premises of, 216 - - Scavenging, jet and hose system of, 275 - - Scurf-labourers, 236 - - Second-hand apparel, sellers of, 25 - - ---- ---- articles, sellers of, 5 - - ---- ---- ---- experience of a dealer in, 11 - - ---- ---- live animals, productions, &c., street-sellers of, - their numbers, capital, and income, 97 - - ---- ---- garments, uses of, 29 - - ---- ---- varieties of, 32 - - ---- ---- store-shops, 24 - - Seven-dials, Dickens’s description of, 35 - - Sewage, metropolitan, quantity of, 387 - - ---- qualities and uses of, 407 - - Sewerage, the City, 403 - - ---- new plan of, 411 - - Sewerage and scavengery, London, history of, 179 - - Sewers, ancient, 388 - - ---- kinds and characteristics of, 390 - - ---- subterranean character of, 394 - - ---- house-drainage in connection with, 395 - - ---- ventilation of, 423 - - ---- flushing and plunging, 424 - - ---- rats in the, 431 - - ---- management of the, and the late Commission, 414 - - ---- Commissioners, powers of, 416 - - ---- rate, 420 - - Sewer-hunters, 150 - - ---- ---- numbers of, 152 - - ---- ---- strange tale of, 154 - - Sewermen and nightmen of London, 383 - - Shells, sellers of, 91 - - Shoddy mills, 30 - - ---- fever, 31 - - Smithfield market, second-hand sellers at, 46 - - Smoke, evils of, 339 - - ---- ---- scientific opinions upon, 340 - - Squirrels, sellers of, 77 - - “Strapping” system, the, illustration of, 304 - - Street-buyers, the, varieties of, 103 - - Street-cleansing, modes and characteristics of, 207 - - ---- ---- men and carts employed in, 213 - - ---- ---- pauper labour employed in, 243 - - ---- ---- narratives of individuals, 245 - - Street-finders or collectors, varieties of, 136 - - Street-folk, census of, 1 - - ---- ---- capital and trade, 2 - - ---- ---- proscription of, 3 - - ---- ---- rate of increase, 5 - - Street-muck, or “mac”, 198 - - ---- ---- uses of, 198 - - ---- ---- value of, 199 - - Street Jews, the, 115 - - Street-orderlies, the, 253 - - ---- ---- condition of, 261 - - ---- ---- expenditure of, 265 - - ---- ---- earnings of, 266 - - ---- ---- City surveyor’s report of, 271 - - Street-sweeping, employers, 209 - - ---- ---- parishes, 209 - - ---- ---- philanthropists, 209 - - Street-sweeping machines, 208 - - ---- ---- hands employed, 238 - - Streets of London, how paved, 181 - - ---- ---- traffic of, 184 - - ---- ---- dust and dirt of, 185 - - ---- ---- ---- loss and injury from, 185 - - ---- ---- mud of the, 200 - - ---- ---- cost and traffic of, 278 - - Sweeping chimneys of steam-vessels, 372 - - Surface-water of the streets of London, 202 - - ---- ---- ---- ---- analysis of, 205 - - - Tan-turf, sellers of, 87 - - Tea-leaves, buyers of, 133 - - Telescopes and pocket-glasses, second-hand, sellers of, 22 - - “Translators” of old shoes, 34 - - ---- extent of the trade, 35 - - Tumbling boy-sweepers, king of the, 501 - - - Umbrellas and parasols, buyers of, 115 - - - Washing expenses in London, 190 - - Waste-paper, buyers of, 113 - - Water, daily supply of the metropolis, 203 - - Watermen’s Company, form of license, 95 - - Weapons, second-hand, sellers of, 21 - - Wet house-refuse, 383 - - ---- ---- ---- means of removing, 385 - - Women’s second-hand apparel, sellers of, 44 - - Wrappers or “bale-stuff”, 13 - - - Young Mike the crossing-sweeper, 498 - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] The definition of a Costermonger strictly includes only such -individuals as confine themselves to the sale of the produce of -the Green and Fruit Markets: the term is here restricted to that -signification. - -[2] This number includes Men, Women, and Children. - -[3] The Watercress trade is carried on in the streets, principally by -old people and children. The chief mart to which the street-sellers of -cresses resort is Farringdon-market, a place which but few or none of -the regular Costermongers attend. - -[4] The Chickweed and Groundsell Sellers and the Turf-Cutters’ traffic -has but little expense connected with it, and their trade is therefore -nearly all profit. - -[5] “v. t.” signifies “various times,” of theft and of “restoration.” - -[6] The Metropolitan Police District comprises a circle, the radius of -which is 15 miles from Charing Cross; the extreme boundary on the N. -includes the parish of Cheshunt and South Mimms; on the S., Epsom; on -the E., Dagenham and Crayford; and on the W., Uxbridge and Staines. - -[7] The inner district includes the parish of St. John, Hampstead, on -the N.; Tooting and Streatham on the S.; Ealing and Brentford on the -W.; and Greenwich on the E. - -The Registrar General’s District is equal, or nearly so, to the inner -Metropolitan Police District. - -[8] The City of London is bounded on the S. by the River, on the E. by -Whitechapel, on the W. by Chancery Lane, and N. by Finsbury. - -[9] The area here stated is that of the city without the walls, -and includes White Friars precinct and Holy Trinity, Minories, both -belonging to other districts. - -[10] This area is that of the city within the walls, and does not -include White Friars, which belongs to the district. - -[11] The area of the districts of St. Saviour and St. Olave is included -in that returned for St. George, Southwark. - -[12] The population and number of inhabited houses in these districts -has decreased annually to this extent since 1841. - -[13] This relates merely to the repairs to the wooden pavement, but if -a renewal of the blocks be necessary, then the cost approaches that of -a new road; and a renewal is considered necessary about once in three -years. - -[14] “Haunsed” is explained by Strype to signify “made too high,” and -the “Redosses” to be “Reredoughs.” A mason informed me that he believed -these Redosses were what were known in some old country-houses as -“Back-Flues,” or flues connecting any fire-grate in the out-offices -with the main chimney. The term “lene” is the Teutonic _Lehn_, and -signifies “let, lease,” or literally _loan_. - -[15] The reader will remember that in the historical sketch given -of the progress of public scavengery, the word “Rakers” occurred in -connection with the sworn master scavengers, &c., &c.; the word is now -unknown to the trade, except that it appears on city documents. - -[16] The parishes marked thus [16] have their dustmen and dust-carts, -as well as the rubbish carting and the individuals in the dust-yard, -reckoned in the numbers employed by the contractors. - -[17] I have computed all the weekly wages at 16_s._, though some of the -men are paid only 14_s._ My object in this is to give the contractors -the benefit of the difference. - -[18] The Saxon _Sceorfa_, which is the original of the English Scurf, -means a scab, and scab is the term given to the “cheap men” in the -shoemaking trade. Scab is the root of our word _Shabby_; hence Scurf -and Scab, deprived of their offensive associations, both mean shabby -fellows. - -[19] These items wages _must_ include to prevent pauperism, _even with -providence_. But this is only on the supposition that the labourer is -unmarried; if married, however, and having a family, then his wages -should include, moreover, the keep of at least three extra persons, -as well as the education of the children. If not, one of two results -is self-evident--either the wife must toil, to the neglect of her -young ones, and they be allowed to run about and pick their morals and -education, as I have before said, out of the gutter, or else the whole -family must be transferred to the care of the parish. - -[20] I have estimated the whole at 15_s._ a week the year through, -gangers, “honourable men,” regular hands and all, so as to allow for -the diminished receipts of the casual hands. - -[21] The usual argument in favour of machinery, viz., that “by reducing -prices it extends the market, and so, causing a greater demand for -the commodities, induces a greater quantity of employment,” would -also be an argument in favour of over population, since this, by -cheapening labour, must have the same effect as machinery on prices, -and, consequently (according to the above logic), induce a greater -quantity of employment! But granting that machinery really does benefit -the labourer in cases _where the market, and therefore the quantity -of work, is largely extensible_, surely it cannot but be an injury in -those callings where _the quantity of work is fixed_. Such is the fact -with the sawing of wood, the reaping of corn, the threshing of corn, -the sweeping of the streets, &c., and hence the evil of mechanical -labour applied to such trades. - -[22] Mr. Sidney Herbert informed me, that when he was connected with -the Ordnance Department the severest punishment they could discover for -idleness was the piling and unpiling of cannon shot; but surely this -was the consummation of official folly! for idleness being simply an -aversion to work, it is almost self-evident that it is _impossible_ -to remove this aversion by making labour inordinately irksome and -repulsive. Until we understand the means by which work is made -pleasant, and can discover other modes of employing our paupers and -criminals, all our workhouse and prison discipline is idle tyranny. - -[23] This is done at the Model Prison, Pentonville. - -[24] The number of men here given as employed by the parishes in the -scavaging of the streets will be found to differ from that of the table -at page 213; but the present table includes all the parish-men employed -throughout London, whereas the other referred to only a portion of the -localities there mentioned. - -[25] To the honourable conduct of the above-named contractors to their -men, I am glad to be able to bear witness. All the men speak in the -highest terms of them. - -[26] This is Mr. Mills’s second _fundamental_ proposition respecting -capital (see “Principles of Pol. Econ.” p. 82, vol. i.). “What I intend -to assert is,” says that gentleman, “that the portion (of capital) -which is destined to the maintenance of the labourers may--supposing no -increase in anything else--be indefinitely increased, without creating -an impossibility of finding them employment--in other words, if there -are human beings capable of work, and food to feed them, they may -always be employed in producing something.” - -[27] Mr. Cochrane is said, in the Reports of the National Philanthropic -Association, to have expended no less than 6000_l._ of his fortune in -the institution of the Street-Orderly system of scavaging. - -[28] A street-orderly in St. Martin’s-lane recovered a piece of -broad-cloth from a man who had just stolen it from a warehouse; -others in Drury-lane detected several thefts from provision-shops. -Two orderlies in Holborn saved the lives of the guard and driver of -one of Her Majesty’s mail-carts, the horse having become unmanageable -in consequence of the shafts being broken. In St. Mary’s Church, -Lambeth, a gentleman having fallen down in apoplexy, the orderlies -who were attending Divine service, carried him out into the air, and -promptly procured him medical aid, but unhappily life was extinct. Many -instances have occurred, however, in which they have rendered essential -service to the public and to individuals. - -[29] The wages paid are not stated. - -[30] At p. 183 the sum of 18,225_l._ is said to be expended in repairs -_annually_; it should have been _weekly_. - -[31] At p. 185 the traffic of London Bridge is stated to be 13,000 -conveyances per hour, instead of per 12 hours. - -[32] The _core_ in this term may be a corruption of the Saxon _Carr_, -a rock, rather than that which would at first suggest itself as its -origin, viz., the Latin _cor_, the heart. _Hard-core_ would therefore -mean hard rock-like rubbish, instead of lumps of rubbish having a hard -nucleus or heart. - -[33] The term _rubbish_ is a polite corruption of the original word -_rubbage_, which is still used by uneducated people; _ish_ is an -_adjectival_ termination, as whitish, slavish, brutish, &c., and -is used only in connection with such substantives as are derived -from adjectives, as English, Scottish, &c. Whereas the affix age is -strictly substantival, as sewage, garbage, wharfage, &c., and is found -applied only to adjectives derived from substantives, as _savage_. A -like polite corruption is found in the word _pudding_, which should -be strictly _pudden_; the addition of the g is as gross a mistake -as saying _garding_ for _garden_. There is no such verb as to _pud_ -whence could come the substantival participle _pudding_; and the French -word from which we derive our term is _poudin_ without the _g_, like -_jardin_, the root of our _garden_. - -[34] This is the Saxon _sceard_, which means a sheard, remnant, or -fragment, and is from the verb _sceran_, signifying both to shear -and to share or divide. The low Dutch _schaard_ is a piece of pot, a -fragment. - -[35] Lord Bacon’s Hist. of King Henry VII., Works, vol. v. p. 61. - -[36] 25th Henry VIII. cap. 13. - -[37] 5 & 6 Edw. VI., cap. 5. - -[38] Eden’s Hist. of the Poor, vol. i. p. 118. - -[39] Latimer’s Sermons, p. 100. - -[40] Pictorial History of England, vol. ii. p. 900. - -[41] Reports of the “Commissioner” of the _Times_ Newspaper, in June, -1845. - -[42] I have here included those engaged in Trade and Commerce, and -employers as well as the employed among the _producers_. - -[43] The amount of the population from 1570 to 1750, as here given, is -copied from Rickman’s tables, as published by the Registrar-General. - -[44] The population at the decennial term, as here given, is the -amended calculation of the Registrar-General, as given in the new -census tables. - -[45] From returns furnished by the clergy. - -[46] The returns here cited are copied from those given by the -Registrar-General in the new census. - -[47] Returns obtained through an inquiry instituted by the Irish House -of Lords. - -[48] The population from 1754-1788 is estimated from the “hearth money” -returns. - -[49] Newenham’s Inquiry into the Population of Ireland. - -[50] Estimate from incomplete census. - -[51] First complete census. - -[52] The _official_ value was established long ago; it represents a -price put upon merchandise or commodities; it is in reality a fixed -value, and serves to indicate the relative extent of imports and -exports in different years. The _declared_ value is simply the market -price. - -[53] The official returns as to the number of paupers are most -incomplete and unsatisfactory. In the 10th annual Report of the Poor -Law Commissioners, p. 480 (1844), a table is printed which is said -to give the returns from the earliest period for which authentic -Parliamentary documents have been received, and this sets forth the -number of paupers in England and Wales, for the _entire twelve months_ -in the years 1803, 1813, 1814, and 1815; then comes a long interval -of “no returns,” and after 1839 we have the numbers for only _three -months_ in each year, from 1840 up to 1843; in the first annual Report -(1848) these returns for one quarter in each year are continued up to -1848; and then we get the returns for only two days in each year, the -1st of July and the 1st of January, so that to come to any conclusion -amid so much inconsistency is utterly impossible. The numbers above -given would have been continued to the present period, could any -comparison have been instituted. The numbers for the periods (not above -given) are-- - - 1803 1,040,716} - 1813 1,426,065} Number of paupers for the - 1814 1,402,576} entire twelve months. - 1815 1,319,851} - 1849 (1st Jan.) 940,851 } - „ (1st July) 846,988 } - 1850 (1st Jan.) 889,830 } Number of paupers for two - „ (1st July) 796,318 } separate days in each year. - 1851 (1st Jan.) 829,440 } - - -[54] It might at first appear that, when the work is shifted to the -Continent, there would be a proportionate decrease of the aggregate -quantity at home, but a little reflection will teach us that the -foreigners must take something from us in _exchange_ for their work, -and so increase the quantity of our work in certain respects as much as -they depress it in others. - -[55] The Great Exhibition, I am informed, produced a very small effect -on the consumption of porter; and, according to the official returns, -160,000 gallons less spirits were consumed in the first nine months -of the present year, than in the corresponding months of the last: -thus showing that any occupation of mind or body is incompatible -with intemperate habits, for drunkenness is essentially the vice of -idleness, or want of something better to do. - -[56] The term _sanc_ in “sanc-work” is the Norman word for blood -(Latin, _sanguis_; French, _sang_), so that “sanc-work” means, -literally, bloody work, this called either from the sanguinary trade of -the soldier, or from the blood-red colour of the cloth. - -[57] “Reredos, dossel (_retable_, Fr.; _postergule_, Ital.),” according -to Parker’s Glossary of Architecture, was “the wall or screen at the -back of an altar, seat, &c.; it was usually ornamented with panelling, -&c., especially behind an altar, and sometimes was enriched with -a profusion of niches, buttresses, pinnacles, statues, and other -decorations, which were often painted with brilliant colours. - -“The open fire-hearth, frequently used in ancient domestic halls, was -likewise called a reredos. - -“In the description of Britain prefixed to Holinshed’s ‘Chronicles,’ -we are told that formerly, before chimneys were common in mean houses, -‘each man made his fire against a reredosse in the hall, where he dined -and dressed his meat.’” - -The original word would appear to be _dosel_ or _rere-dosel_; for -Kelham, in his “Norman Dictionary,” explains the word _doser_ or -_dosel_ to signify a hanging or canopy of silk, silver, or gold work, -under which kings or great personages sit; also the back of a chair -of state (the word being probably a derivative of the Latin _dorsum_, -the back. _Dos_, in slang, means a _bed_, a “dossing crib” being a -sleeping-place, and has clearly the same origin). A _rere-dos_ or -_rere-dosel_ would thus appear to have been a _screen_ placed _behind_ -anything. I am told, that in the old houses in the north of England, -erections at the back of the fire may, to this day, occasionally be -seen, with an aperture behind for the insertion of plates, and such -other things as may require warming. - -A correspondent says there is “a ‘reredos,’ or open fire-hearth, now -to be seen in the extensive and beautiful ruins of the Abbey of St. -Agatha, in the North Riding of Yorkshire. The ivy now hangs over and -partially conceals this reredos; but its form is tolerably perfect, -and the stones are still coloured by the action of the fire, which -was extinguished, I need hardly say, by the cold water thrown on such -places by Henry VIII.” - -[58] It has been notorious for many years, that flowers will not bloom -in any natural luxuriance, and that fruit will not properly ripen, -in the heart of the city. Whilst this is an unquestionable fact, it -is also a fact, that greatly as suburban dwellings have increased, -and truly as London may be said to have “gone into the country,” -the greater quantity of the large, excellent, unfailing, and cheap -supply of the fruits and vegetables in the London “green” markets are -grown within a circle of from ten to twelve miles from St. Paul’s. -In the course of my inquiries (in the series of letters on Labour -and the Poor in the _Morning Chronicle_) into the supply, &c., to -the “green markets” of the metropolis, I was told by an experienced -market-gardener, who had friends and connections in several of the -suburbs, that he fancied, and others in the trade were of the same -opinion, that no gardening could be anything but a failure if attempted -within “where the fogs went.” My informant explained to me that the -fogs, so peculiar to London, did not usually extend beyond three or -four miles from the heart of the city. He was satisfied, he said, that -within half a mile or so of this reach of fog the gardener’s labours -might be crowned with success. He knew nothing of any scientific -reason for his opinion, but as far as a purely London fog extended -(without regard to any mist pervading the whole country as well as -the neighbourhood of the capital), he thought it was the boundary -within which there could be no proper growth of fruit or flowers. That -the London fog has its _limits_ as regards the manifestation of its -greatest density, there can be no doubt. My informant was frequently -asked, when on his way home, by omnibus drivers and others whom he -knew, and met on their way to town a few miles from it: “How’s the fog, -sir? _How far?_” - -The extent of the London fog, then, if the information I have cited be -correct, may be considered as indicating that portion of the metropolis -where the population, and consequently the smoke, is the thickest, and -within which agricultural and horticultural labours cannot meet with -success. “The nuisance of a November fog in London,” Mr. Booth stated -to the Smoke Committee, “is most assuredly increased by the smoke -of the town, arising from furnaces and private fires. It is vapour -saturated with particles of carbon which causes all that uneasiness and -pain in the lungs, and the uneasy sensations which we experience in our -heads. I have no doubt of the density of these fogs arising from this -carbonaceous matter.” - -The loss from the impossibility of promoting vegetation in the district -most subjected to the fog is nothing, as the whole ground is already -occupied for the thousand purposes of a great commercial city. The -matter is, however, highly curious, as a result of the London smoke. - -Concerning the frequency of fogs in the district of the immediate -neighbourhood of the metropolis, it is stated in Weale’s “London,” -that fogs “appear to be owing, 1st, to the presence of the river; and, -2ndly, to the fact that the superior temperature of the town produces -results precisely similar to those we find to occur upon rivers and -lakes. The cold damp currents of the atmosphere, which cannot act -upon the air of the country districts, owing to the equality of their -specific gravity, when they encounter the warmer and lighter strata -over the town, displace the latter, intermixing with it and condensing -the moisture. Fogs thus are often to be observed in London, whilst the -surrounding country is entirely free from them. The peculiar colour -of the London fogs appears to be owing to the fact that, during their -prevalence, the ascent of the coal smoke is impeded, and that it is -thus mixed with the condensed moisture of the atmosphere. As is well -known, they are often so dense as to require the gas to be lighted in -midday, and they cover the town with a most dingy and depressing pall. -They also frequently exhibit the peculiarity of increasing density -after their first formation, which appears to be owing to the descent -of fresh currents of cold air towards the lighter regions of the -atmosphere. - -“They do not occur when the wind is in a dry quarter, as for instance -when it is in the east; notwithstanding that there may be very -considerable difference in the temperature of the air and of the water -or the ground. The peculiar odour which attends the London fogs has -not yet been satisfactorily explained; although the uniformity of its -recurrence, and its very marked character, would appear to challenge -elaborate examination.” - -[59] The quantity of soot deposited depends greatly on the length, -draught, and irregular surface of the chimney. The kitchen flue yields -by far the most soot for an equal quantity of coals burnt, because it -is of greater length. The quantity above cited is the average yield -from the several chimneys of a house. It will be seen hereafter that -the quantity collected is only 800,000 bushels; a great proportion -of the chimneys of the poor being seldom swept, and some cleansed by -themselves. - -[60] Soot of coal is said, by Dr. Ure, in his admirable Dictionary of -Arts and Manufactures, to contain “sulphate and carbonate of ammonia -along with bituminous matter.” - -[61] Querying means literally inquiring or asking for work at the -different houses. The “queriers” among the sweeps are a kind of pedlar -operatives. - -[62] In East and West London there are rather more than 32 houses to -the acre, which gives an average of 151 square yards to each dwelling, -so that, allowing the streets here to occupy one-third of the area, we -have 100 square yards for the space covered by each house. In Lewisham, -Hampstead, and Wandsworth, there is not one house to the acre. The -average number of houses per acre throughout London is 4. - -[63] _Gully_ here is a corruption of the word _Gullet_, or throat; the -Norman is _guelle_ (Lat. _gula_), and the French, _goulet_; from this -the word _gully_ appears to be directly derived. A _gully_-drain is -literally a _gullet_-drain, that is, a drain serving the purposes of a -gullet or channel for liquids, and a gully-hole the mouth, orifice, or -opening to the _gullet_ or gully-drain. - -[64] Of the derivation of the word _Sewer_ there have been many -conjectures, but no approximation to the truth. One of the earliest -instances I have met with of any detailed mention of sewers, is in -an address delivered by a “Coroner,” whose name does not appear, to -“a jury of sewers.” This address was delivered somewhere between the -years 1660 and 1670. The coroner having first spoken of the importance -of “Navigation and Drayning” (draining), then came to the question of -sewers. - -“Sewars,” he said, “are to be accounted your grand Issuers of Water, -from whence I conceive they carry their name (_Sewars quasi Issuers_). -I shall take his opinion who delivers them to be Currents of Water, -kept in on both sides with banks, and, in some sense, they may be -called a certain kind of a little or small river. But as for the -derivation of the word Sewar, from two of our English words, _Sea_ and -_Were_, or, as others will have it, _Sea_ and _Ward_, give me leave, -now I have mentioned it, to--leave it to your judgments. - -“However, this word _Sewar_ is very famous amongst us, both for giving -the title of the Commission of Sewars itself, and for being the -ordinary name of most of your common water-courses, for Drayning, and -therefore, I presume, there are none of you of these juries but both -know-- - -“1. What Sewars signify, and also, in particular, - -“2. What they are; and of a thing so generally known, and of such -general use.” - -The Rev. Dr. Lemon, who gave the world a work on “English Etymology,” -from the Greek and Latin, and from the Saxon and Norman, was regarded -as a high authority during the latter part of the last century, when -his quarto first appeared. The following is his account, under the head -“Sewers”-- - -“Skinn. rejects Minsh’s. deriv. of ‘olim scriptum fuisse _seward_ -à sea-ward, quod versus mare factæ sunt: longè verisimilius à Fr. -Gall. _eauier_; sentina; _incile_, supple. aquarum:’--then why did -not the Dr. trace this Fr. Gall. _eauier_? if he had, he would have -found it distorted ab Ὑδωρ, _aqua_; _sewers_ being a species of -_aqueduct_:--Lye, in his Add., gives another deriv., viz. ‘ab Iceland. -_sua_, _colare_; ut existimo; ad quod referre vellem _sewer_; _cloaca_; -per _sordes_ urbis ejiciuntur:’--the very word _sordes_ gives me a hint -that _sewer_ may be derived à ‘Σαιρω, _vel_ Σαροω, _verro_: nempe quia -_sordes_, quæ _everruntur_ è domo, in unum locum _accumulantur_; R. -Σωρος, _cumulus_: Voss.’--_a collection of sweepings, slop, dirt, &c._” - -But these are the follies of learning. Had our lexicographers known -that the vulgar were, as Dr. Latham says, “the conservators of the -Saxon language” with us, they would have sought information from the -word “shore,” which the uneducated, and, consequently, unperverted, -invariably use in the place of the more polite “sewer”--the common -_sewer_ is always termed by them “the common _shore_.” Now the word -_shore_, in Saxon, is written _score_ and _scor_ (for _c_ = _h_), and -means not only a bank, the land immediately next to the sea, but a -_score_, a tally--for they are both substantives, made from the verb -_sceran_ (p. _scear_, _scær_, pp. _scoren_, _gescoren_), to _shear_, -cut off, _share_, divide; and hence they meant, in the one case, the -division of the land from the sea; and in the other, a division cut -in a piece of wood, with a view to counting. The substantive _scar_ -has the same origin; as well as the verb to _score_, to cut, to gash. -The Scandinavian cognates for the Saxon _scor_ may be cited as proofs -of what is here asserted. They are, Icel., _skor_, a notch; Swed., -_skâra_, a notch; and Dan., _skaar_ and _skure_, a notch, an incision. -It would seem, therefore, that the word _shore_, in the sense of -_sewer_ (Dan., _skure_; Anglice, _shure_, for _k_ = _h_), originally -meant merely a _score_ or incision made in the ground, a _ditch_ sunk -with the view of carrying off the refuse-water, a watercourse, and -consequently a drain. A sewer is now a covered ditch, or channel for -refuse water. - -[65] This outlet is known to the flushermen, &c., as “below the backs -of houses,” from its devious course _under the houses_ without pursuing -any direct line parallel with the open part of the streets. - -[66] The following is the analysis of a gallon of sewage, also dried to -evaporation, by Professor Miller:-- - - Ammonia 3·26 - Phosphoric acid 0·44 - Potash 1·02 - Silica 0·54 - Lime 7·54 - Magnesia 1·87 - Common salt 13·66 - Sulphuric acid 7·04 - Carbonic acid 4·41 - Combustible matter, containing - 0·34 nitrogen 5·80 - Traces of oxide of iron. - ----- - Making in solution 45·58 - ----- - Matters in suspension, consisting of - combustible matters, sand, lime, - and oxide of iron 44·50 - - -[67] The following note appears in Mr. Fortescue’s statement:--“In -some trial works near the metropolis sewer water was applied to land, -on the condition that the value of half the extra crop should be taken -as payment. The dressings were only single dressings. The officer -making the valuation reported, that there was at the least one sack of -wheat and one load of straw per acre extra from its application on one -breadth of land; in another, full one quarter of wheat more, and one -load of straw extra per acre. The reports of the effects of sewer-water -in increasing the yield of oats as well as of wheat were equally good. -It is stated by Captain Vetch that in South America irrigation is used -with great advantage for wheat.” - -[68] The following statement may, according to the work above alluded -to, be presented as an approximate. - -[69] Rental of the districts now rated. - -[70] Rental of the districts within the active jurisdiction in which -expenses have been incurred, and which are about to be rated. - -[71] These officers are paid only during the period of service, and are -chiefly engaged on special works. - -The corresponding officers for London are under the City Commissioners. - -[72] In one of their Reports the Board of Health has spoken of the -yearly cleansing of the cesspools; but a cesspool, I am assured, is -rarely emptied by manual labour, unless it be full, for as the process -is generally regarded as a nuisance, it is resorted to as seldom as -possible. It may, perhaps, be different with the cesspool-emptying by -the hydraulic process, which is _not_ a nuisance. - -[73] It was ascertained that 3 gallons (half a cubic foot) of water -would carry off 1 lb. of the more solid excrementitious matter through -a 6-inch pipe, with an inclination of 1 in 10. - -[74] Mr. Rammell supplies the following note on the use of “Poudrette.” - -“In connexion with this subject,” he says, “a few observations upon the -application of poudrette in agricultural process may not be without -interest. - -“With regard to the fertilizing properties of this preparation, M. -Maxime Paulet, in his work entitled ‘Théorie et Pratique des Engrais,’ -gives a table of the fertilizing qualities of various descriptions -of manure, the value of each being determined by the quantity of -nitrogen it contains. Taking for a standard good farm-yard dung, which -contains on an average 4 per 1000 of nitrogen, and assuming that 10,000 -kilogrammes (about 22,000 lbs. English) of this manure (containing 40 -kilogrammes of nitrogen) are necessary to manure one hectare (2-1/2 -acres nearly) of land, the quantities of poudrette and of some other -animal manures required to produce a similar effect would be as -follows:-- - - Kilogr. - “Good farm-yard dung, the quantity usually - spread upon one hectare of land 10,000 - Equivalent quantities of human urine, not - having undergone fermentation 5,600 - Equivalent quantities of poudrette of Montfaucon 2,550 - Equivalent quantities of mixed human excrements - (this quantity I have calculated from data given - in the same work) 1,333 - Equivalent quantities of liquid blood of - the abattoirs 1,333 - Equivalent quantities of bones 650 - Equivalent quantities of average of guano - (two specimens are given) 512 - Equivalent quantities of urine of the public - urinals in fermentation, and incompletely dried 233 - -“M. Paulet estimates the loss of the ammoniacal products contained in -the fæcal matters when they are withdrawn from the cesspools, by the -time they have been ultimately reduced into poudrette, at from 80 to 90 -per cent. - -“I have not been able to meet with an analysis of the matters found -in the fixed and movable cesspools of Paris, but in the ‘Cours -d’Agriculture,’ of M. le Comte de Gasparin, I find an analysis by MM. -Payen and Boussingault of some matter taken from the cesspools of -Lille, and in the state in which it is ordinarily used in the suburbs -of that city as manure. This matter was found to contain on the average -0·205 per cent of nitrogen, and thus by the rule observed in drawing up -the above table, 19,512 kilogrammes of it would be necessary to produce -the same effect upon one hectare of land as the other manures there -mentioned. The wide difference between this quantity and that (1333 -kilogrammes) stated for the mixed human excrements in their undiluted -state, would lead to the conclusion that a very large proportion of -water was present in the matter sent from Lille, unless we are to -attribute a portion of the difference to the accidental circumstance -of the bad quality of this matter. It appears that this is very -variable, according to the style of living of the persons producing -it. ‘Upon this subject,’ M. Paulet says, ‘the case of an agriculturist -in the neighbourhood of Paris is cited, who bought the contents of the -cesspools of one of the fashionable restaurants of the Palais Royal. -Making a profitable speculation of it, he purchased the matter of the -cesspools of several barracks. This bargain, however, resulted in a -loss, for the produce from this last matter came very short of that -given by the first.’ - -“Poudrette weighs 70 kilogrammes the hectolitre (154 lbs. per 22 -gallons), and the quantity usually spread upon one hectare of land -(2-1/2 acres nearly) is 1750 kilogrammes, being at the rate of about -1540 lbs. per acre English measure. It is cast upon the land by the -hand, in the manner that corn is sown. - -“Poudrette packed in sacks very soon destroys them. This is always the -case, whether it is whole or has been newly prepared. - -“A serious accident occurred in 1818, on board a vessel named the -_Arthur_, which sailed from Rouen with a cargo of poudrette for -Guadaloupe. During the voyage a disease broke out on board which -carried off half the crew, and left the remainder in a deplorable state -of health when they reached their destination. It attacked also the men -who landed the cargo; they all suffered in a greater or less degree. -The poudrette was proved to have been shipped during a wet season, and -to have been exposed before and during shipment, in a manner to allow -it to absorb a considerable quantity of moisture. The accident appears -to have been due to the subsequent fermentation of the mass in the -hold--increased to an intense degree by the moisture it had acquired, -and by the heat of a tropical climate. - -“M. Parent du Châtelet, to whom the matter was referred, recommended -that to guard against similar accidents in future, the poudrette -intended for exportation, in order to deprive it entirely of humidity, -should be mixed with an absorbent powder, such as quicklime, and that -it should be packed in casks to protect it from moisture during the -voyage.” - -[75] “It is in the upper basins,” adds the Reports, “that the first -separation of the liquids and solids takes place, the latter falling -to the bottom, and the former gradually flowing off through a sluice -into the lower basins. This first separation, however, is by no means -complete, a considerable deposit taking place in the lower basins. The -mass in the upper basins, after three or four years, then appears like -a thick mud, half liquid, half solid; it is of depth varying from 12 -to 15 feet. In order entirely to get rid of the liquids, deep channels -are then cut across the mass, by which they are drained off, when the -deposit soon becomes sufficiently stiff to permit of its being dug out -and spread upon the drying-ground, where, to assist the desiccation, it -is turned over two or three times a-day by means of a harrow drawn by a -horse. - -“The time necessary for the requisite desiccation varies a good deal, -according to the season of the year, the temperature, and the dry or -moist state of the atmosphere. Ere yet it is entirely deprived of -humidity, the matter is collected into heaps, varying in size usually -from 8 to 10 yards high, and from 60 to 80 yards long, by 25 or 30 -yards wide. These heaps or mounds generally remain a twelvemonth -untouched, sometimes even for two or three years; but as fast as the -material is required, they are worked from one of the sides by means -of pickaxes, shovels, and rakes; the pieces separated are then easily -broken and reduced to powder, foreign substances being carefully -excluded. This operation, which is the last the matter undergoes, -is performed by women. The poudrette then appears like a mould of a -grey-black colour, light, greasy to the touch, finely grained, and -giving out a particular faint and nauseous odour. - -“The finer particles of matter carried by the liquids into the lower -basins, and there more gradually deposited in combination with a -precipitate from the urine, yield a variety of poudrette, preferred, by -the farmers, for its superior fertilizing properties. In this case the -drying process is conducted more slowly and with more difficulty than -in the other, but more completely. - -“In general the poudrette is dried with great difficulty; it appears to -have an extreme affinity for water; few substances give out moisture -more slowly, or absorb it more greedily from the air. - -“A good deal of heat is generated in the heaps of desiccated matter. -This is always sensible to the touch, and sometimes results in -spontaneous combustion. - -“The intensity of this heat is not in proportion to the elevation of -temperature of the atmosphere. It is promoted by moisture. The only -means of extinguishing the fire when it is once developed is to turn -over the mass from top to bottom, in order to expose it to the air. -Water thrown upon it, unless in very large quantities, would only -increase its activity.” - -[76] 4-1/4 heaped bushels each, English measure. - -[77] I did not hear any of the London nightmen or sewermen complain of -inflammation in the eyes, and no such effect was visible; nor that they -suffered from temporary blindness, or were, indeed, thrown out of work -from any such cause; they merely remarked that they were first dazzled, -or “_dazed_,” with the soil. But the labour of the Parisian is far -more continuous and regular than the London nightman, owing in a great -degree to the system of _movable cesspools_ in Paris. - -[78] It must be recollected, to account for the greater quantity of -matter between the cesspools of Paris and London, that the French -fixed cesspool, from the greater average of inmates to each house, -must necessarily contain about three times and a half as much as that -of a London cesspool. If the dwellers in a Parisian house, instead of -averaging twenty-four, averaged between seven and eight, as in London, -the cesspool contents in Paris would, at the above rate, be between -four and five tons (as it is in London) for the average of each house. - - - - -Transcriber's Note - - -Transcribed from the 1967 reprinting of the 1865 edition. - -Larger tables have been refactored to improve readability on smaller -screens. - -Images and tables have been moved to avoid breaking paragraphs. - -The following apparent errors have been corrected: - -p. 8 "arts" changed to "‘arts" - -p. 9 "_s_" changed to "_s._" - -p. 9 "per lb." changed to "per lb.)" - -p. 9 "year’s" changed to "years" - -p. 14 "streets." changed to "streets," - -p. 14 "the second hand" changed to "the second-hand" - -p. 14 "“slaughter-houses.”" changed to "“slaughter-houses")." - -p. 15 "&c.," changed to "&c.)," - -p. 16 "trooper." changed to "trooper.”" - -p. 20 "pawbroker" changed to "pawnbroker" - -p. 23 "been" changed to "being" - -p. 24 "Second hand" changed to "Second-hand" - -p. 29 "insufcient" changed to "insufficient" - -p. 29 "fermerly" changed to "formerly" - -p. 30 "In the upper" changed to "“In the upper" - -p. 36 "habilments" changed to "habiliments" - -p. 42 "day’s" changed to "days" - -p. 43 "them go.”" changed to "them go." - -p. 48 "Amdassador" changed to "Ambassador" - -p. 49 "Barnard (v. t)" changed to "Barnard (v. t.)" - -p. 58 " bird-cather’s" changed to " bird-catcher’s" - -p. 64 "‘Why" changed to "“‘Why" - -p. 69 "When" changed to "“When" - -p. 72 "6_d_;" changed to "6_d._;" - -p. 72 "fern." changed to "fern)." - -p. 73 "gentlemen" changed to "gentleman" - -p. 75 "After father" changed to "“After father" - -p. 91 "cwt;" changed to "cwt.;" (two instances) - -p. 93 "naval stimulate" changed to "stimulate" - -p. 93 "navel" changed to "naval" - -p. 100 "early" changed to "yearly" - -pp. 104-5 "alalthough" changed to "although" - -p. 105 "formant" changed to "informant" - -p. 111 "wife," changed to "wife,”" - -(illustration) "_by_ BKARD" changed to "_by_ BEARD" - -p. 131 "officating" changed to "officiating" - -(illustration) "BEARD." changed to "BEARD.]" - -p. 143 "disgreeable" changed to "disagreeable" - -p. 160 "to-enjoy" changed to "to enjoy" - -p. 164 "many others." changed to "many others.”" - -p. 167 "Ditto" changed to "Ditto." - -p. 174 "commisioners" changed to "commissioners" - -p. 191 "250 ton" changed to "250 tons" - -p. 202 "Daniel" changed to "Daniell" - -p. 209 "Somers-town." changed to "Somers-town.”" - -p. 227 "daily, “he" changed to "daily, he" - -p. 227 "average" changed to "average)" - -p. 228 "pursuaded" changed to "persuaded" - -p. 232 "two" changed to "two." - -p. 241 (note) "cheapening, labour" changed to "cheapening labour," - -p. 241 "work)," changed to "work," - -p. 243 "willingnes" changed to "willingness" - -p. 244 "2_s_,"ct "2_s._," - -p. 249 "16_s_," changed to "16_s._," - -p. 249 "100,000_l_," changed to "100,000_l._," - -p. 249 "lost 6_s._’”" changed to "lost 6_s._”" - -p. 249 "and though" changed to "“and though" - -p. 249 "and very few" changed to "“and very few" - -p. 262 "_stoneyard_.”" changed to "_stoneyard_." - -p. 266 "National School" changed to "National School." - -p. 267 "dispensary" changed to "dispensary." - -p. 269 "boys boys" changed to "boys" - -p. 272 "cartage, &c." changed to "cartage, &c.)" - -p. 273 "2 Years" changed to "2 Years." - -p. 278 "(3000_l._) per annum" changed to "(3000_l._) per annum;" - -p. 280 "Gracechurch-streeet" changed to "Gracechurch-street" - -p. 284 "St, Martin’s" changed to "St. Martin’s" - -p. 288 "which is the the" changed to "which is the" - -p. 291 "Wandsworth" changed to "Wandsworth." - -p. 297 "some 3_d_" changed to "some 3_d._" - -p. 304 "at present." changed to "at present.”" - -p. 305 "were some" changed to "where some" - -p. 307 "_production_" changed to "_production_." - -p. 308 "tenants were," changed to "tenants, were" - -p. 309 "An act was passed" changed to "an Act was passed" - -p. 312 "veneers.”" changed to "veneers.’" - -p. 313 "decideded" changed to "decided" - -p. 334 "they don’t" changed to "‘they don’t" - -p. 335 "Londonreceive" changed to "London receive" - -p. 337 "became" changed to "become" - -p. 344 "small master" changed to "a small master" - -p. 348 "“Soon after" changed to "Soon after" - -p. 349 "The way" changed to "“The way" - -p. 361 "St.James’s" changed to "St. James’s" - -p. 362 "Hammersmith." changed to "Hammersmith" - -p. 362 "_d_" changed to "_d._" (eleven instances) - -p. 363 "_s_" changed to "_s._" - -p. 363 "_d_" changed to "_d._" (six instances) - -p. 364 "intances" changed to "instances" - -p. 369 "don t care" changed to "don’t care" - -p. 371 "term term" changed to "term" - -p. 375 "“She’s a ironer" changed to "She’s a ironer" - -p. 376 "trading workmen" changed to "trading workman" - -p. 376 "desk-makers,’" changed to "desk-makers’," - -p. 377 "deseribed" changed to "described" - -p. 377 "Retherhithe" changed to "Rotherhithe" - -p. 378 "I could" changed to "I could." - -p. 378 "know that I" changed to "know that" - -p. 385 "as cannot be be" changed to "as cannot be" - -p. 385 "Dr Paley" changed to "Dr. Paley" - -p. 388 "mattter" changed to "matter" - -p. 388 "degreee" changed to "degree" - -p. 388 "fœcal" changed to "fæcal" - -p. 393 "contant" changed to "constant" - -p. 404 "“The more ancient" changed to "The more ancient" - -p. 407 "surveyer" changed to "surveyor" - -p. 407 "1849,” have" changed to "1849, “have" - -p. 419 "marsh-bailliff" changed to "marsh-bailiff" - -p. 420 "Commissionors" changed to "Commissioners" - -p. 421 "an approximate" changed to "an approximate." - -p. 437 "of 1665" changed to "of 1666" - -p. 440 (note) "Paulett" changed to "Paulet" - -p. 440 (note) "19 512" changed to "19,512" - -p. 442 "the result." changed to "the result.”" - -p. 446 "pump-and hose" changed to "pump-and-hose" - -p. 463 "300 colls each." changed to "300 colls. each" - -p. 463 "visites, &c" changed to "visites, &c." - -p. 467 "“His hair" changed to "His hair" - -p. 470 "butler, in?" changed to "butler, in?’" - -p. 472 "“They only" changed to "They only" - -p. 477 "New Kent-roads.”" changed to "New Kent-roads." - -p. 485 "“Baked taters" changed to "‘Baked taters" - -p. 486 "gentleman, after for" changed to "gentleman after, for" - -p. 487 "a shame?" changed to "a shame?’" - -p. 487 "respectabl" changed to "respectable" - -p. 489 "they re" changed to "they’re" - -p. 491 "vessed rounded" changed to "vessel rounded" - -p. 491 "he his ready" changed to "he is ready" - -p. 494 "I am laid" changed to "Iam laid" - -p. 494 "CROSSING-SWEEPERS" changed to "CROSSING-SWEEPERS." - -p. 504 "as if condered" changed to "as if considered" - -p. 505 "home, as she said.”" changed to "home,” as she said." - -p. 510 "wild rabbits, &c," changed to "wild rabbits, &c.," - -p. 511 "Dickens s" changed to "Dickens’s" - -In the List of Illustrations, "The Crippled Street Bird-seller" and -"Street-Seller of Birds’-Nests" were printed in reverse order and have -been moved. - -Inconsistent or archaic spelling, capitalisation and punctuation have -otherwise been kept as printed. - 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