“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.”