themselves what were the grievances to which they considered themselves
subjected; what were the peculiarities and what the privations of a
street-life. Cat-calls, and every description of discordant sound,
prevailed, before the commencement of the proceedings, but there was
also perfect good-humour. Although it had been announced that all the
speakers were to address the meeting from the platform, yet throughout
the evening some man or other would occasionally essay to speak from
the body of the hall. Some of those present expressed misgivings that
the meeting was got up by the Government, or by Sir R. Peel, and
that policemen, in disguise, were in attendance. The majority showed
an ignorance of the usual forms observed at public meetings, though
some manifested a thorough understanding of them. Nor was there much
delicacy observed--but, perhaps, about as much as in some assemblages
of a different character--in clamouring down any prosy speaker. Many
present were without coats (for it was a warm evening), some were
without waistcoats, many were in tatters, hats and caps were in
infinite varieties of shape and shade, while a few were well and even
genteelly dressed. The well dressed street-sellers were nearly all
young men, and one of these wore moustachios. After I had explained,
amidst frequent questions and interruptions, the purpose for which
I had summoned the meeting, and had assured the assembly that, to
the best of my knowledge, no policemen were present, I invited free
discussion.
It was arranged that some one person should address the meeting as the
representative of each particular occupation. An elderly man of small
stature and lively intelligent features, stood up to speak on behalf
of the “paper-workers,” “flying-stationers,” and “standing-patterers.”
He said, that “for twenty-four years he had been a penny-showman, a
street-seller, and a patterer.” He dwelt upon the difference of a
street-life when he was young and at the present time, the difference
being between meals and no meals; and complained that though he had
been well educated, had friends in a respectable way of life, and had
never been accused of any dishonesty, such was the “moral brand,” of
having been connected with a street life, that it was never got rid of.
He more than once alluded to this “moral brand.” The question was, he
concluded, in what way were they to obtain an honest livelihood, so as
to keep their wives and children decently, without being buffeted about
like wild beasts in the open streets? This address was characterised
by propriety in the delivery, and by the absence of any grammatical
inaccuracy, or vulgarity of tone or expression.
A costermonger, a quiet-looking man, tidily clad, said he was the son
of a country auctioneer, now dead; and not having been brought up to
any trade, he came to London to try his luck. His means were done
before he could obtain employment; and he was in a state of starvation.
At last he was obliged to apply to the parish. The guardians took him
into the workhouse, and offered to pass him home: but as he could do no
good there, he refused to go. Whereupon, giving him a pound of bread,
he was turned into the streets, and had nowhere to lay his head. In
wandering down the New-cut a costermonger questioned him, and then took
him into his house and fed him. This man kept him for a year and a
half; he showed him how to get a living in the street trade; and when
he left, gave him 20_s._ to start with. With this sum he got a good
living directly; and he could do so now, were it not for the police,
whose conduct, he stated, was sometimes very tyrannical. He had been
dragged to the station-house, for standing to serve customers, though
he obstructed nobody; the policeman, however, called it an obstruction,
and he (the speaker) was fined 2_s._ 6_d._; whereupon, because he had
not the half-crown, his barrow and all it contained were taken from
him, and he had heard nothing of them since. This almost broke him
down. There was no redress for these things, and he thought they ought
to be looked into.
This man spoke with considerable energy; and when he had concluded,
many costermongers shouted, at the top of their voices, that they could
substantiate every word of what he had said.
A young man, of superior appearance, said he was the son of a gentleman
who had held a commission as Lieutenant in the 20th Foot, and as
Captain in the 34th Infantry, and afterwards became Sub-director of
the Bute Docks; in which situation he died, leaving no property. He
(the speaker) was a classical scholar; but having no trade, he was
compelled, after his father’s death, to come to London in search of
employment, thinking that his pen and his school acquirements would
secure it. But in this expectation he was disappointed,--though for a
short period he was earning two guineas a week in copying documents for
the House of Commons. That time was past; and he was a street-patterer
now through sheer necessity. He could say from experience that the
earnings of that class were no more than from 8_s._ to 10_s._ a week.
He then declaimed at some length against the interference of the police
with the patterers, considering it harsh and unnecessary.
After some noisy and not very relevant discussion concerning the true
amount of a street-patterer’s earnings, a clergyman of the Established
Church, now selling stenographic cards in the street, addressed the
meeting. He observed, that in every promiscuous assembly there would
always be somebody who might be called unfortunate. Of this number he
was one; for when, upon the 5th September, 1831, he preached a funeral
sermon before a fashionable congregation, upon Mr. Huskisson’s death
by a railway accident, he little thought he should ever be bound over
in his own recognizances in 10_l._ for obstructing the metropolitan
thoroughfares. He was a native of Hackney, but in early life he went to
Scotland, and upon the 24th June, 1832, he obtained the presentation to
a small extra-parochial chapel in that country, upon the presentation
of the Rev. Dr. Bell. His people embraced Irvingism, and he was
obliged to leave; and in January, 1837, he came to the metropolis.
His history since that period he need not state. His occupation was
well known, and he could confirm what had been stated with regard to
the police. The Police Act provided, that all persons selling goods
in the streets were to keep five feet off the pavement, the street
not being a market. He had always kept with his wares and his cards
beyond the prohibited distance of five feet; and for six years and a
half he had sold his cards without molesting or being molested. After
some severe observations upon the police, he narrated several events
in his personal history to account for his present condition, which
he attributed to misfortune and the injustice of society. In the
course of these explanations he gave an illustration of his classical
acquirements, in having detected a grammatical error in a Latin
inscription upon the plate of a foundation-stone for a new church in
Westminster. He wrote to the incumbent, pointing out the error, and
the incumbent asked the beadle who he was. “Oh,” said the beadle, “he
is a fellow who gets his living in the streets.” This was enough. He
got no answer to his letter, though he knew the incumbent and his four
curates, and had attended his church for seven years. After dwelling
on the sufferings of those whose living was gained in the streets, he
said, that if persons wished really to know anything of the character
or habits of life of the very poor, of whom he was one, the knowledge
could only be had from a personal survey of their condition in their
own homes. He ended, by expressing his hope that by better treatment,
and an earnest attention--moral, social, and religious--to their
condition, the poor of the streets might be gathered to the church, and
to God.
A “wandering musician” in a Highland garb, worn and dirty, complained
at some length of the way in which he was treated by the police.
A hale-looking man, a costermonger, of middle age--who said he had
a wife and four children dependent upon him--then spoke. It was a
positive fact, he said, notwithstanding their poverty, their hardships,
and even their degradation in the eyes of some, that the first markets
in London were mainly supported by costermongers. What would the Duke
of Bedford’s market in Covent-garden be without them? This question
elicited loud applause.
Several other persons followed with statements of a similar character,
which were listened to with interest; but from their general sameness
it is not necessary to repeat them here. After occupying nearly four
hours, the proceedings were brought to a close by a vote of thanks, and
the “street-sellers, performers, and labourers,” separated in a most
orderly manner.
OF THE STREET-IRISH.
The Irish street-sellers are both a numerous and peculiar class of
people. It therefore behoves me, for the due completeness of this work,
to say a few words upon their numbers, earnings, condition, and mode of
life.
The number of Irish street-sellers in the metropolis has increased
greatly of late years. One gentleman, who had every means of being
well-informed, considered that it was not too much to conclude, that,
within these five years, the numbers of the poor Irish people who gain
a scanty maintenance, or what is rather a substitute for a maintenance,
by trading, or begging, or by carrying on the two avocations
simultaneously in the streets of London, had been doubled in number.
I found among the English costermongers a general dislike of the Irish.
In fact, next to a policeman, a genuine London costermonger hates an
Irishman, considering him an intruder. Whether there be any traditional
or hereditary ill-feeling between them, originating from a clannish
feeling, I cannot ascertain. The costermongers whom I questioned had no
knowledge of the feelings or prejudices of their predecessors, but I am
inclined to believe that the prejudice is modern, and has originated in
the great influx of Irishmen and women, intermixing, more especially
during the last five years, with the costermonger’s business. An Irish
costermonger, however, is no novelty in the streets of London. “From
the mention of the costardmonger,” says Mr. Charles Knight, “in the old
dramatists, he appears to have been frequently an Irishman.”
Of the Irish street-sellers, at present, it is computed that there
are, including men, women, and children, upwards of 10,000. Assuming
the street-sellers attending the London fish and green markets to be,
with their families, 30,000 in number, and 7 in every 20 of these to
be Irish, we shall have rather more than the total above given. Of
this large body three-fourths sell only fruit, and more especially
nuts and oranges; indeed, the orange-season is called the “Irishman’s
harvest.” The others deal in fish, fruit, and vegetables, but these are
principally men. Some of the most wretched of the street-Irish deal in
such trifles as lucifer-matches, water-cresses, &c.
I am informed that the great mass of these people have been connected,
in some capacity or other, with the culture of the land in Ireland.
The mechanics who have sought the metropolis from the sister kingdom
have become mixed with their respective handicrafts in England, some
of the Irish--though only a few--taking rank with the English skilled
labourers. The greater part of the Irish artizans who have arrived
within the last five years are to be found among the most degraded
of the tailors and shoemakers who work at the East-end for the
slop-masters.
A large class of the Irish who were agricultural labourers in their
country are to be found among the men working for bricklayers, as well
as among the dock-labourers and excavators, &c. Wood chopping is an
occupation greatly resorted to by the Irish in London. Many of the
Irish, however, who are not regularly employed in their respective
callings, resort to the streets when they cannot obtain work otherwise.
The Irish women and girls who sell fruit, &c., in the streets, depend
almost entirely on that mode of traffic for their subsistence. They
are a class not sufficiently taught to avail themselves of the
ordinary resources of women in the humbler walk of life. Unskilled
at their needles, working for slop employers, even at the commonest
shirt-making, is impossible to them. Their ignorance of household work,
moreover (for such description of work is unknown in their wretched
cabins in many parts of Ireland), incapacitates them in a great
measure for such employments as “charing,” washing, and ironing, as
well as from regular domestic employment. Thus there seems to remain
to them but one thing to do--as, indeed, was said to me by one of
themselves--viz., “to sell for a ha’pinny the three apples which cost a
farruthing.”
Very few of these women (nor, indeed, of the men, though rather more
of them than the women) can read, and they are mostly all wretchedly
poor; but the women present two characteristics which distinguish them
from the London costerwomen generally--they are chaste, and, unlike the
“coster girls,” very seldom form any connection without the sanction
of the marriage ceremony. They are, moreover, attentive to religious
observances.
The majority of the Irish street-sellers of both sexes beg, and often
very eloquently, as they carry on their trade; and I was further
assured, that, but for this begging, some of them might starve outright.
The greater proportion of the Irish street-sellers are from Leinster
and Munster, and a considerable number come from Connaught.
OF THE CAUSES WHICH HAVE MADE THE IRISH TURN COSTERMONGERS.
Notwithstanding the prejudices of the English costers, I am of opinion
that the Irishmen and women who have become costermongers, belong to a
better class than the Irish labourers. The Irishman may readily adapt
himself, in a strange place, to labour, though not to trade; but these
costers are--or the majority at least are--poor persevering traders
enough.
The most intelligent and prosperous of the street-Irish are those who
have “risen”--for so I heard it expressed--“into regular costers.” The
untaught Irishmen’s capabilities, as I have before remarked, with all
his powers of speech and quickness of apprehension, are far less fitted
for “buying in the cheapest market and selling in the dearest” than for
mere physical employment. Hence those who take to street-trading for
a living seldom prosper in it, and three-fourths of the street-Irish
confine their dealings to such articles as are easy of sale, like
apples, nuts, or oranges, for they are rarely masters of purchasing to
advantage, and seem to know little about tale or measure, beyond the
most familiar quantities. Compared with an acute costermonger, the mere
apple-seller is but as the labourer to the artizan.
One of the principal causes why the Irish costermongers have increased
so extensively of late years, is to be found in the fact that the
labouring classes, (and of them chiefly the class employed in the
culture of land,) have been driven over from “the sister Isle” more
thickly for the last four or five years than formerly. Several
circumstances have conspired to effect this.--First, they were driven
over by the famine, when they could not procure, or began to fear that
soon they could not procure, food to eat. Secondly, they were forced
to take refuge in this country by the evictions, when their landlords
had left them no roof to shelter them in their own. (The shifts, the
devices, the plans, to which numbers of these poor creatures had
recourse, to raise the means of quitting Ireland for England--or
for anywhere--will present a very remarkable chapter at some future
period.) Thirdly, though the better class of small farmers who have
emigrated from Ireland, in hopes of “bettering themselves,” have mostly
sought the shores of North America, still some who have reached this
country have at last settled into street-sellers. And, fourthly, many
who have come over here only for the harvest have been either induced
or compelled to stay.
Another main cause is, that the Irish, as labourers, can seldom
obtain work all the year through, and thus the ranks of the Irish
street-sellers are recruited every winter by the slackness of certain
periodic trades in which they are largely employed--such as hodmen,
dock-work, excavating, and the like. They are, therefore, driven by
want of employment to the winter sale of oranges and nuts. These
circumstances have a doubly malefic effect, as the increase of costers
accrues in the winter months, and there are consequently the most
sellers when there are the fewest buyers.
Moreover, the cessation of work in the construction of railways,
compared with the abundance of employment which attracted so many to
this country during the railway mania, has been another fertile cause
of there being so many Irish in the London streets.
The prevalence of Irish women and children among street-sellers is
easily accounted for--they are, as I said before, unable to do anything
else to eke out the means of their husbands or parents. A needle is as
useless in their fingers as a pen.
Bitterly as many of these people suffer in this country, grievous and
often eloquent as are their statements, I met with _none_ who did not
manifest repugnance at the suggestion of a return to Ireland. If asked
why they objected to return, the response was usually in the form of a
question: “Shure thin, sir, and what good could I do there?” Neither
can I say that I heard any of these people express any love for their
country, though they often spoke with great affection of their friends.
From an Irish costermonger, a middle-aged man, with a physiognomy
best known as “Irish,” and dressed in corduroy trousers, with a
loose great-coat, far too big for him, buttoned about him, I had the
following statement:
“I had a bit o’ land, yer honor, in County Limerick. Well, it wasn’t
just a farrum, nor what ye would call a garden here, but my father
lived and died on it--glory be to God!--and brought up me and my sister
on it. It was about an acre, and the taties was well known to be good.
But the sore times came, and the taties was afflicted, and the wife
and me--I have no childer--hadn’t a bite nor a sup, but wather to
live on, and an igg or two. I filt the famine a-comin’. I saw people
a-feedin’ on the wild green things, and as I had not such a bad take,
I got Mr. ---- (he was the head master’s agent) to give me 28_s._ for
possission in quietness, and I sould some poulthry I had--their iggs
was a blessin’ to keep the life in us--I sould them in Limerick for
3_s._ 3_d._--the poor things--four of them. The furnithur’ I sould to
the nabors, for somehow about 6_s._ Its the thruth I’m ay-tellin’ of
you, sir, and there’s 2_s._ owin’ of it still, and will be a perpitual
loss. The wife and me walked to Dublin, though we had betther have
gone by the ‘long say,’ but I didn’t understand it thin, and we got
to Liverpool. Then sorrow’s the taste of worruk could I git, beyant
oncte 3_s._ for two days harrud porthering, that broke my back half in
two. I was tould I’d do betther in London, and so, glory be to God! I
have--perhaps I have. I knew Mr. ----, he porthers at Covent-garden,
and I made him out, and hilped him in any long distance of a job.
As I’d been used to farrumin’ I thought it good raison I should be
a costermonger, as they call it here. I can read and write too. And
some good Christian--the heavens light him to glory when he’s gone!--I
don’t know who he was--advanced me 10_s._--or he gave it me, so to
spake, through Father ----,” (a Roman Catholic priest.) “We earrun what
keeps the life in us. I don’t go to markit, but buy of a fair dealin’
man--so I count him--though he’s harrud sometimes. I can’t till how
many Irishmen is in the thrade. There’s many has been brought down to
it by the famin’ and the changes. I don’t go much among the English
street-dalers. They talk like haythens. I never miss mass on a Sunday,
and they don’t know what the blissed mass manes. I’m almost glad I
have no childer, to see how they’re raired here. Indeed, sir, they’re
not raired at all--they run wild. They haven’t the fear of God or the
saints. They’d hang a praste--glory be to God! they would.”
HOW THE STREET-IRISH DISPLANTED THE STREET-JEWS IN THE ORANGE TRADE.
The Jews, in the streets, while acting as costermongers, never “worked
a barrow,” nor dealt in the more ponderous and least profitable
articles of the trade, such as turnips and cabbages. They however, had,
at one period, the chief possession of a portion of the trade which the
“regular hands” do not consider proper costermongering, and which is
now chiefly confined to the Irish--viz.: orange selling.
The trade was, not many years ago, confined almost entirely to the
Jew boys, who kept aloof from the vagrant lads of the streets, or
mixed with them only in the cheap theatres and concert-rooms. A
person who had had great experience at what was, till recently, one
of the greatest “coaching inns,” told me that, speaking within his
own recollection and from his own observation, he thought the sale
of oranges was not so much in the hands of the Jew lads until about
forty years back. The orange monopoly, so to speak, was established by
the street-Jews, about 1810, or three or four years previous to that
date, when recruiting and local soldiering were at their height, and
when a great number of the vagabond or “roving” population, who in one
capacity or other now throng the streets, were induced to enlist. The
young Jews never entered the ranks of the army. The streets were thus
in a measure cleared for them, and the itinerant orange-trade fell
almost entirely into their hands. Some of the young Jews gained, I
am assured, at least 100_l._ a year in this traffic. The numbers of
country people who hastened to London on the occasion of the Allied
Sovereigns’ visit in 1814--many wealthy persons then seeing the capital
for the first time--afforded an excellent market to these dealers.
Moreover, the perseverance of the Jew orange boys was not to be
overcome; they would follow a man who even looked encouragingly
at their wares for a mile or two. The great resort of these Jew
dealers--who eschewed night-work generally, and left the theatre-doors
to old men and women of all ages--was at the coaching inns; for year
by year, after the peace of 1815, the improvement of the roads and the
consequent increase of travellers to London, progressed.