business, for I started it on the 25th of March--it’s a day easy for
to remember, ’cause everybody knows it’s quarter-day--in 1825. I was a
porter in coaching-inns before; but there was a mishap, and I had to
drop it. I didn’t leave ’cause I thought the pea line might be better,
but because I must do something, and knew a man in the trade, and
all about it. It was a capital trade then, and for a good many years
after I was in it. Many a day I’ve taken a guinea, and, sometimes,
35_s._; and I have taken two guineas at Greenwich Fair, but then I
worked till one or two in the morning from eleven the day before.
Money wasn’t so scarce then. Oh, sir, as to what my profit was or is,
I never tell. I wouldn’t to my own wife; neither her that’s living nor
her that’s dead.” [A person present intimated that the secret might be
safely confided to the dead wife, but the pea-seller shook his head.]
“Now, one day with another, except Sundays, when I don’t work, I may
take 7_s._ I always use the dried peas. They pay better than fresh
garden-peas would at a groat a peck. People has asked for young green
peas, but I’ve said that I didn’t have them. Billingsgate’s my best
ground. I sell to the costers, and the roughs, and all the parties that
has their dinners in the tap-rooms--they has a bit of steak, or a bit
of cold meat they’ve brought with them. There’s very little fish eat
in Billingsgate, except, perhaps, at the ord’n’ries (ordinaries). I’m
looked for as regular as dinner-time. The landlords tell me to give
my customers plenty of pepper and salt, to make them thirsty. I go on
board the Billingsgate ships, too, and sometimes sell 6_d._ worth to
captain and crew. It’s a treat, after a rough voyage. Oh, no, sir, I
never go on board the Dutch eel-vessels. There’s nothing to be got out
of scaly fur’ners (foreigners.) I sell to the herring, and mackarel,
and oyster-boats, when they’re up. My great sale is in public-houses,
but I sometimes sell 2_d._ or 3_d._ worth to private houses. I go out
morning, noon, and night; and at night I go my round when people’s
having a bite of supper, perhaps, in the public-houses. I sell to
the women of the town then. Yes, I give them credit. To-night, now
(Saturday), I expect to receive 2_s._ 3_d._, or near on to it, that
I’ve trusted them this week. They mostly pay me on a Saturday night.
I lose very little by them. I’m knocked about in public-houses by the
Billingsgate roughs, and I’ve been bilked by the prigs. I’ve known at
least six people try my trade, and fail in it, and I was glad to see
them broke. I sell twice as much in cold weather as in warm.”
I ascertained that my informant sold three times as much as the
other dealers, who confine their trade principally to an evening
round. Reckoning that the chief man of business sells 3 gallons a day
(which, at 1_d._ the quarter-pint, would be 8_s._, my informant said
7_s._), and that the other three together sell the same quantity, we
find a street-expenditure on hot green peas of 250_l._ and a street
consumption of 1870 gallons. The peas, costing 2_s._ the two gallons,
are vended for 4_s._ or 5_s._, at the least, as they boil into more
than double the quantity, and a gallon, retail, is 2_s._ 8_d._; but the
addition of vinegar, pepper, &c., may reduce the profit to cent. per
cent., while there is the heaping up of every measure retail to reduce
the profit. Thus, independent of any consideration as to the labour in
boiling, &c. (generally done by the women), the principal man’s profit
is 21_s._ a week; that of the others 7_s._ each weekly.
The capital required to start in the business is--can, 2_s._ 6_d._;
vinegar-bottle and pepper-box, 4_d._; saucers and spoons, 6_d._;
stock-money, about 2_s._; cloth to wrap over the peas, 4_d._ (a vendor
wearing out a cloth in three months); or an average of 9_s._ or 10_s._
OF CATS’ AND DOGS’-MEAT DEALERS.
The supply of food for cats and dogs is far greater than may be
generally thought. “Vy, sir,” said one of the dealers to me, “can you
tell me ’ow many people’s in London?” On my replying, upwards of two
millions; “I don’t know nothing vatever,” said my informant, “about
millions, but I think there’s a cat to every ten people, aye, and more
than that; and so, sir, you can reckon.” [I told him this gave a total
of 200,000 cats in London; but the number of inhabited houses in the
metropolis was 100,000 more than this, and though there was not a cat
to every house, still, as many lodgers as well as householders kept
cats, I added that I thought the total number of cats in London might
be taken at the same number as the inhabited houses, or 300,000 in
all.] “There’s not near half so many dogs as cats. I must know, for
they all knows me, and I sarves about 200 cats and 70 dogs. Mine’s a
middling trade, but some does far better. Some cats has a hap’orth a
day, some every other day; werry few can afford a penn’orth, but times
is inferior. Dogs is better pay when you’ve a connection among ’em.”
The cat and dogs’-meat dealers, or “carriers,” as they call themselves,
generally purchase the meat at the knackers’ (horse-slaughterers’)
yards. There are upwards of twenty of such yards in London; three or
four are in Whitechapel, one in Wandsworth, two in Cow-cross--one of
the two last mentioned is the largest establishment in London--and
there are two about Bermondsey. The proprietors of these yards purchase
live and dead horses. They contract for them with large firms, such
as brewers, coal-merchants, and large cab and ’bus yards, giving so
much per head for their old live and dead horses through the year. The
price varies from 2_l._ to 50_s._ the carcass. The knackers also have
contractors in the country (harness-makers and others), who bring or
send up to town for them the live and dead stock of those parts. The
dead horses are brought to the yard--two or three upon one cart, and
sometimes five. The live ones are tied to the tail of these carts,
and behind the tail of each other. Occasionally a string of fourteen
or fifteen are brought up, head to tail, at one time. The live horses
are purchased merely for slaughtering. If among the lot bought there
should chance to be one that is young, but in bad condition, it is
placed in the stable, fed up, and then put into the knacker’s carts,
or sold by them, or let on hire. Occasionally a fine horse has been
rescued from death in this manner. One person is known to have bought
an animal for 15_s._, for which he afterwards got 150_l._ Frequently
young horses that will not work in cabs--such as “jibs”--are sold to
the horse-slaughterers as useless. They are kept in the yard, and
after being well fed, often turn out good horses. The live horses
are slaughtered by the persons called “knackers.” These men get upon
an average 4_s._ a day. They begin work at twelve at night, because
some of the flesh is required to be boiled before six in the morning;
indeed, a great part of the meat is delivered to the carriers before
that hour. The horse to be slaughtered has his mane clipped as short
as possible (on account of the hair, which is valuable). It is then
blinded with a piece of old apron smothered in blood, so that it may
not see the slaughterman when about to strike. A pole-axe is used,
and a cane, to put an immediate end to the animal’s sufferings. After
the animal is slaughtered, the hide is taken off, and the flesh cut
from the bones in large pieces. These pieces are termed, according
to the part from which they are cut, hind-quarters, fore-quarters,
cram-bones, throats, necks, briskets, backs, ribs, kidney pieces,
hearts, tongues, liver and lights. The bones (called “racks” by the
knackers) are chopped up and boiled, in order to extract the fat,
which is used for greasing common harness, and the wheels of carts
and drags, &c. The bones themselves are sold for manure. The pieces
of flesh are thrown into large coppers or pans, about nine feet in
diameter and four feet deep. Each of these pans will hold about three
good-sized horses. Sometimes two large brewers’ horses will fill them,
and sometimes as many as four “poor” cab-horses may be put into them.
The flesh is boiled about an hour and 20 minutes for a “killed” horse,
and from two hours to two hours and 20 minutes for a dead horse (a
horse dying from age or disease). The flesh, when boiled, is taken from
the coppers, laid on the stones, and sprinkled with water to cool it.
It is then weighed out in pieces of 112, 56, 28, 21, 14, 7, and 3-1/2
lbs. weight. These are either taken round in a cart to the “carriers,”
or, at about five, the carriers call at the yard to purchase, and
continue doing so till twelve in the day. The price is 14_s._ per cwt.
in winter, and 16_s._ in summer. The tripe is served out at 12 lb. for
6_d._ All this is for cats and dogs. The carriers then take the meat
round town, wherever their “walk” may lie. They sell it to the public
at the rate of 2-1/2_d._ per lb., and in small pieces, on skewers, at
a farthing, a halfpenny, and a penny each. Some carriers will sell as
much as a hundred-weight in a day, and about half a hundred-weight is
the average quantity disposed of by the carriers in London. Some sell
much cheaper than others. These dealers will frequently knock at the
doors of persons whom they have seen served by another on the previous
day, and show them that they can let them have a larger quantity of
meat for the same money. The class of persons belonging to the business
are mostly those who have been unable to obtain employment at their
trade. Occasionally a person is bred to it, having been engaged as a
lad by some carrier to go round with the barrow and assist him in his
business. These boys will, after a time, find a “walk” for themselves,
beginning first with a basket, and ultimately rising to a barrow. Many
of the carriers give light weight to the extent of 2 oz. and 4 oz. in
the pound. At one yard alone near upon 100 carriers purchase meat, and
there are, upon an average, 150 horses slaughtered there every week.
Each slaughter-house may be said to do, one with another, 60 horses per
week throughout the year, which, reckoning the London slaughter-houses
at 12, gives a total of 720 horses killed every week in the metropolis,
or, in round numbers, 37,500 in the course of the year.
The London cat and dogs’-meat carriers or sellers--nearly all
men--number at the least 1,000.
The slaughtermen are said to reap large fortunes very rapidly--indeed,
the carriers say they coin the money. Many of them retire after a few
years, and take large farms. One, after 12 years’ business, retired
with several thousand pounds, and has now three large farms. The
carriers are men, women, and boys. Very few women do as well as the men
at it. The carriers “are generally sad drunkards.” Out of five hundred,
it is said three hundred at least spend 1_l._ a head a week in drink.
One party in the trade told me that he knew a carrier who would often
spend 10_s._ in liquor at one sitting. The profit the carriers make
upon the meat is at present only a penny per pound. In the summer time
the profit per pound is reduced to a halfpenny, owing to the meat being
dearer on account of its scarcity. The carriers give a great deal of
credit--indeed, they take but little ready money. On some days they do
not come home with more than 2_s._ One with a middling walk pays for
his meat 7_s._ 6_d._ per day. For this he has half a hundred-weight.
This produces him as much as 11_s._ 6_d._, so that his profit is 4_s._;
which, I am assured, is about a fair average of the earnings of the
trade. One carrier is said to have amassed 1,000_l._ at the business.
He usually sold from 1-1/2 to 2 cwt. every morning, so that his profits
were generally from 16_s._ to 1_l._ per day. But the trade is much
worse now. There are so many at it, they say, that there is barely a
living for any. A carrier assured me that he seldom went less than
30, and frequently 40 miles, through the streets every day. The best
districts are among the houses of tradesmen, mechanics, and labourers.
The coachmen in the mews at the back of the squares are very good
customers. “The work lays thicker there,” said my informant. Old maids
are bad, though very plentiful, customers. They cheapen the carriers
down so, that they can scarcely live at the business. “They will pay
one halfpenny and owe another, and forget that after a day or two.” The
cats’ meat dealers generally complain of their losses from bad debts.
Their customers require credit frequently to the extent of 1_l._ “One
party owes me 15_s._ now,” said a carrier to me, “and many 10_s._; in
fact, very few people pay ready money for the meat.”
The carriers frequently serve as much as ten pennyworths to one person
in a day. One gentleman has as much as 4 lbs. of meat each morning for
two Newfoundland dogs; and there was one woman--a black--who used to
have as much as 16 pennyworth every day. This person used to get out on
the roof of the house and throw it to the cats on the tiles. By this
she brought so many stray cats round about the neighbourhood, that
the parties in the vicinity complained; it was quite a nuisance. She
_would_ have the meat always brought to her before ten in the morning,
or else she would send to a shop for it, and between ten and eleven in
the morning the noise and cries of the hundreds of stray cats attracted
to the spot was “terrible to hear.” When the meat was thrown to the
cats on the roof, the riot, and confusion, and fighting, was beyond
description. “A beer-shop man,” I was told, “was obliged to keep five
or six dogs to drive the cats from his walls.” There was also a mad
woman in Islington, who used to have 14 lbs. of meat a day. The party
who supplied her had his money often at 2_l._ and 3_l._ at a time. She
had as many as thirty cats at times in her house. Every stray one that
came she would take in and support. The stench was so great that she
was obliged to be ejected. The best days for the cats’ meat business
are Mondays, Tuesdays, and Saturdays. A double quantity of meat is sold
on the Saturday; and on that day and Monday and Tuesday the weekly
customers generally pay.
“My father was a baker by trade,” said a carrier to me, “but through
an enlargement of the heart he was obliged to give up working at his
trade; leaning over the trough increased his complaint so severely,
that he used to fall down, and be obliged to be brought home. This made
him take to the cats’ and dogs’ meat trade, and he brought me up to it.
I do pretty comfortably. I have a very good business, having been all
my life at it. If it wasn’t for the bad debts I should do much better;
but some of the people I trust leave the houses, and actually take in
a double quantity of meat the day before. I suppose there is at the
present moment as much as 20_l._ owing to me that I never expect to see
a farthing of.”
The generality of the dealers wear a shiny hat, black plush waistcoat
and sleeves, a blue apron, corduroy trousers, and a blue and white
spotted handkerchief round their necks. Some, indeed, will wear two and
three handkerchiefs round their necks, this being fashionable among
them. A great many meet every Friday afternoon in the donkey-market,
Smithfield, and retire to a public-house adjoining, to spend the
evening.
A “cats’ meat carrier” who supplied me with information was more
comfortably situated than any of the poorer classes that I have yet
seen. He lived in the front room of a second floor, in an open and
respectable quarter of the town, and his lodgings were the perfection
of comfort and cleanliness in an humble sphere. It was late in the
evening when I reached the house. I found the “carrier” and his family
preparing for supper. In a large morocco leather easy chair sat the
cats’ meat carrier himself; his “blue apron and black shiny hat” had
disappeared, and he wore a “dress” coat and a black satin waistcoat
instead. His wife, who was a remarkably pretty woman, and of very
attractive manners, wore a “Dolly Varden” cap, placed jauntily at
the back of her head, and a drab merino dress. The room was cosily
carpeted, and in one corner stood a mahogany “crib” with cane-work
sides, in which one of the children was asleep. On the table was a
clean white table-cloth, and the room was savoury with the steaks, and
mashed potatoes that were cooking on the fire. Indeed, I have never
yet seen greater comfort in the abodes of the poor. The cleanliness
and wholesomeness of the apartment were the more striking from the
unpleasant associations connected with the calling.
It is believed by one who has been engaged at the business for 25
years, that there are from 900 to 1,000 horses, averaging 2 cwt. of
meat each--little and big--boiled down every week; so that the quantity
of cats’ and dogs’ meat used throughout London is about 200,000 lbs.
per week, and this, sold at the rate of 2-1/2_d._ per lb., gives
2,000_l._ a week for the money spent in cats’ and dogs’ meat, or
upwards of 100,000_l._ a year, which is at the rate of 100_l._-worth
sold annually by each carrier. The profits of the carriers may be
estimated at about 50_l._ each per annum.
The capital required to start in this business varies from 1_l._ to
2_l._ The stock-money needed is between 5_s._ and 10_s._ The barrow and
basket, weights and scales, knife and steel, or black-stone, cost about
2_l._ when new, and from 15_s._ to 4_s._ second-hand.
OF THE STREET-SALE OF DRINKABLES.
The street-sellers of the drinkables, who have now to be considered,
belong to the same class as I have described in treating of the sale
of street-provisions generally. The buyers are not precisely of the
same class, for the street-eatables often supply a meal, but with the
exception of the coffee-stalls, and occasionally of the rice-milk,
the drinkables are more of a luxury than a meal. Thus the buyers are
chiefly those who have “a penny to spare,” rather than those who have
“a penny to dine upon.” I have described the different classes of
purchasers of each potable, and perhaps the accounts--as a picture
of street-life--are even more curious than those I have given of the
purchasers of the eatables--of (literally) the diners _out_.
OF COFFEE-STALL KEEPERS.
The vending of tea and coffee, in the streets, was little if at all
known twenty years ago, saloop being then the beverage supplied from
stalls to the late and early wayfarers. Nor was it until after 1842
that the stalls approached to anything like their present number, which
is said to be upwards of 300--the majority of the proprietors being
women. Prior to 1824, coffee was in little demand, even among the
smaller tradesmen or farmers, but in that year the duty having been
reduced from 1_s._ to 6_d._ per lb., the consumption throughout the
kingdom in the next seven years was nearly trebled, the increase being
from 7,933,041 lbs., in 1824, to 22,745,627 lbs., in 1831. In 1842, the
duty on coffee, was fixed at 4_d._, from British possessions, and from
foreign countries at 6_d._
But it was not owing solely to the reduced price of coffee, that the
street-vendors of it increased in the year or two subsequent to 1842,
at least 100 per cent. The great facilities then offered for a cheap
adulteration, by mixing ground chicory with the ground coffee, was an
enhancement of the profits, and a greater temptation to embark in the
business, as a smaller amount of capital would suffice. Within these
two or three years, this cheapness has been still further promoted,
by the medium of adulteration, the chicory itself being, in its turn,
adulterated by the admixture of baked carrots, and the like saccharine
roots, which, of course, are not subjected to any duty, while foreign
chicory is charged 6_d._ per lb. English chicory is not chargeable
with duty, and is now cultivated, I am assured, to the yield of
between 4,000 and 5,000 tons yearly, and this nearly all used in the
adulteration of coffee. Nor is there greater culpability in this trade
among street-venders, than among “respectable” shopkeepers; for I was
assured, by a leading grocer, that he could not mention twenty shops in
the city, of which he could say: “You can go and buy a pound of ground
coffee there, and it will not be adulterated.” The revelations recently
made on this subject by the _Lancet_ are a still more convincing proof
of the _general_ dishonesty of grocers.
The coffee-stall keepers generally stand at the corner of a street.
In the fruit and meat markets there are usually two or three
coffee-stalls, and one or two in the streets leading to them; in
Covent-garden there are no less than four coffee-stalls. Indeed, the
stalls abound in all the great thoroughfares, and the most in those not
accounted “fashionable” and great “business” routes, but such as are
frequented by working people, on their way to their day’s labour. The
best “pitch” in London is supposed to be at the corner of Duke-street,
Oxford-street. The proprietor of that stall is said to take full
30_s._ of a morning, in halfpence. One stall-keeper, I was informed,
when “upon the drink” thinks nothing of spending his 10_l._ or 15_l._
in a week. A party assured me that once, when the stall-keeper above
mentioned was away “on the spree,” he took up his stand there, and got
from 4_s._ to 5_s._ in the course of ten minutes, at the busy time of
the morning.
The coffee-stall usually consists of a spring-barrow, with two, and
occasionally four, wheels. Some are made up of tables, and some have
a tressel and board. On the top of this are placed two or three, and
sometimes four, large tin cans, holding upon an average five gallons
each. Beneath each of these cans is a small iron fire-pot, perforated
like a rushlight shade, and here charcoal is continually burning, so
as to keep the coffee or tea, with which the cans are filled, hot
throughout the early part of the morning. The board of the stall has
mostly a compartment for bread and butter, cake, and ham sandwiches,
and another for the coffee mugs. There is generally a small tub under
each of the stalls, in which the mugs and saucers are washed. The
“grandest” stall in this line is the one before-mentioned, as standing
at the corner of Duke-street, Oxford-street (of which an engraving
is here given). It is a large truck on four wheels, and painted a
bright green. The cans are four in number, and of bright polished
tin, mounted with brass-plates. There are compartments for bread
and butter, sandwiches, and cake. It is lighted by three large oil
lamps, with bright brass mountings, and covered in with an oil-cloth
roof. The coffee-stalls, generally, are lighted by candle-lamps. Some
coffee-stalls are covered over with tarpaulin, like a tent, and others
screened from the sharp night or morning air by a clothes-horse
covered with blankets, and drawn half round the stall.
Some of the stall-keepers make their appearance at twelve at night,
and some not till three or four in the morning. Those that come out
at midnight, are for the accommodation of the “night-walkers”--“fast
gentlemen” and loose girls; and those that come out in the morning, are
for the accommodation of the working men.
It is, I may add, piteous enough to see a few young and good-looking
girls, some without the indelible mark of habitual depravity on their
countenances, clustering together for warmth round a coffee-stall,
to which a penny expenditure, or the charity of the proprietor, has
admitted them. The thieves do not resort to the coffee-stalls, which
are so immediately under the eye of the policeman.