The class of patterers with whom we have here to deal are those who

patter to help off their goods--but while describing them it has

been deemed advisable to say a few words, also, on the class who _do

nothing but patter_, as a means of exciting commiseration to their

assumed calamities. These parties, it should be distinctly understood,

are in no way connected with the puffing street-sellers, but in the

exaggerated character of the orations they deliver, they are mostly

professional beggars--or bouncers (that is to say cheats of the lowest

_kind_), and _will_ not work or do anything for their living. This, at

least, cannot be urged against the pattering street-sellers who, as was

before stated, do _something_ for the bread they eat.

Further to show the extent, and system, of the lodging and routes

throughout the country of the class of “lurkers,” &c., here

described--as all resorting to those places--I got a patterer to write

me out a list, from his own knowledge, of divers routes, and the extent

of accommodation in the lodging-houses. I give it according to the

patterer’s own classification.

“_Brighton_ is a town where there is a great many furnished cribs,

let to needys (nightly lodgers) that are molled up,” [that is to say,

associated with women in the sleeping-rooms.]

SURREY AND SUSSEX.

Dossing Cribs, Beds. Needys,

or Lodging-houses or Nightly

Lodgers.

Wandsworth 6 9 108

Croydon 9 8 144

Reigate 5 6 60

Cuckfield 2 8 32

Horsham 3 7 52

Lewis 7 6 84

Kingston 12 8 192

Brighton 16 9 228

“_Bristol._--A few years back an old woman kept a padding-ken here.

She was a strong Methodist, but had a queer method. There was thirty

standing beds, besides make-shifts and furnished rooms, which were

called ‘cottages.’ It’s not so bad now. The place was well-known to the

monkry, and you was reckoned flat if you hadn’t been there. The old

woman, when any female, old or young, who had no tin, came into the

kitchen, made up a match for her with some men. Fellows half-drunk had

the old women. There was always a broomstick at hand, and they was both

made to jump over it, and that was called a broomstick wedding. Without

that ceremony a couple weren’t looked on as man and wife. In course the

man paid, in such case, for the dos (bed.)

Kensington 6 7 84

Brentford 12 8 192

Hounslow 6 5 60

Colebrook 2 7 20

Windsor 7 10 140

Maidenhead 4 5 40

Reading 12 9 216

Oxford 14 7 196

Banbury 10 12 240

Marlboro’ 8 7 112

Bath 10 8 160

Bristol 20 11 440

“_Counties of Kent and Essex._--Here is the best places in England for

‘skipper-birds;’ (parties that never go to lodging-houses, but to barns

or outhouses, sometimes without a blanket.) The Kent farmers permit it

to their own travellers, or the travellers they know. In Essex it’s

different. There a farmer will give 1_s._ rather than let a traveller

sleep on his premises, for fear of robbery. ‘Keyhole whistlers,’ the

skipper-birds are sometimes called, but they’re regular travellers.

Kent’s the first county in England for them. They start early to good

houses for victuals, when gentlefolk are not up. I’ve seen them doze

and sleep against the door. They like to be there before any one cuts

their cart (exposes their tricks). Travellers are all early risers.

It’s good morning in the country when it’s good night in town.

KENT.

Dossing Cribs, Beds. Needys,

or Lodging-houses or Nightly

Lodgers.

Deptford 18 9 324

Greenwich 6 8 26

Woolwich 9 8 144

Gravesend 6 7 84

Chatham 20 10 400

Maidstone 5 7 70

Sittingbourne 3 6 36

Sheerness 4 5 40

Faversham 3 5 30

Canterbury 11 8 176

Dover 12 9 216

Ramsgate 4 5 40

Margate 6 6 72

ESSEX.

Stratford 10 9 180

Ilford 3 7 52

Barking 4 6 48

Billericay 5 7 70

Orsett 2 8 32

Rayleigh 3 9 54

Rochford 3 8 48

Leigh 4 8 64

Prettywell 2 7 28

Southend 3 8 48

Maldon 5 9 90

Witham 4 8 64

Colchester 15 10 300

“_Windsor._--At Ascot race-time I’ve paid many 1_s._ just to sit up all

night.

“_Colchester._--Life in London at the Bugle; called ‘Hell upon earth’

sometimes.

Barnet 5 1 80

Watford 6 8 90

Hemel-Hempstead 3 5 30

Uxbridge 6 7 84

Tring 2 6 24

Dunstable 6 5 60

Stony-Stratford 3 6 36

Northampton 13 9 234

Towcester 4 7 56

Daventry 5 9 90

Coventry 16 9 288

Birmingham 50 11 1100

HERTS AND BEDFORDSHIRE.

Edmonton 14 7 196

Waltham-Abbey 3 6 36

Cheshunt-Street 2 7 28

Hoddesden 3 8 48

Hertford 9 9 162

Ware 7 10 140

Puckeridge 2 5 20

Buntingford 3 8 48

Royston 4 10 40

Hitchin 7 9 126

Luton 6 8 96

Bedford 9 7 126

St. Alban’s 8 6 96

SUFFOLK AND NORFOLK.

Ipswich 24 8 384

Hadleigh 8 7 112

Halsted 5 6 60

Stowmarket 4 7 56

Woodbridge 6 5 60

Sudbury 4 7 56

Bury St. Edmund’s 8 8 128

Thetford 3 6 36

Attleboro’ 2 5 20

Wymondham 1 11 22

Norwich 40 9 720

Yarmouth 16 8 256

OF THE “SCREEVERS,” OR WRITERS OF BEGGING-LETTERS AND PETITIONS.

“Screeving”--that is to say, _writing_ false or exaggerated accounts of

afflictions and privations, is a necessary corollary to “Pattering,”

or making pompous _orations_ in public--and I here subjoin a brief

description of the “business”--for although the “screevers,”

“economically” considered, belong properly to the class who will _not

work_, yet as they are intimately connected with the street-trade of

begging I have thought it best to say a few words on the subject here,

reserving a more comprehensive and scientific view of the subject

till such time as I come to treat of the _professional_ beggar, under

the head of those who are _able_ but _unwilling_ to labour for their

livelihood, in contradistinction to the involuntary beggars, who

belong more properly to those who are _willing_ but _unable_ to work.

The subjoined information has been obtained from one who has had many

opportunities of making himself acquainted with the habits and tricks

of the class here treated of,--indeed, at one part of his life he

himself belonged to the “profession.”

“In England and Wales the number of vagrants committed to prison

annually amounts to 19,621; and as many are not imprisoned more

than a dozen times during their lives, and a few never at all, the

number of tramps and beggars may be estimated, at the very lowest, at

22,000 throughout England and Wales. The returns from Scotland are

indeterminate. Of this wretched class many are aged and infirm; others

are destitute orphans; while not a few are persons whose distress is

real, and who suffer from temporary causes.

“With this excusable class, however, I have not now to do. Of

professional beggars there are two kinds--those who ‘do it on the

_blob_’ (by word of mouth), and those who do it by ‘_screeving_,’ that

is, by petitions and letters, setting forth imaginary cases of distress.

“Of these documents there are two sorts, ‘slums’ (letters) and

‘fakements’ (petitions). These are seldom written by the persons who

present or send them, but are the production of a class of whom the

public little imagine either the number or turpitude. I mean the

‘professional begging-letter writers.’

“Persons who write begging-letters for others sometimes, though seldom,

beg themselves. They are in many cases well supported by the fraternity

for whom they write. A professional of this kind is called by the

‘cadgers,’ ‘their man of business.’ Their histories vary as much as

their abilities; generally speaking they have been clerks, teachers,

shopmen, reduced gentlemen, or the illegitimate sons of members of the

aristocracy; while others, after having received a liberal education,

have broken away from parental control, and commenced the ‘profession’

in early life, and will probably pursue it to their graves.

“I shall take a cursory view of the various pretences set forth in

these begging documents,” says my informant, “and describe some of the

scenes connected with their preparation. The documents themselves are

mournful catalogues of all the ills that flesh is heir to.

“I address myself first to that class of petitions which represent

losses by sea, or perhaps shipwreck itself. These documents are very

seldom carried by one person, unless indeed he is really an old sailor;

and, to the credit of the navy be it spoken, this is very seldom the

case. When the imposition under notice has to be carried out, it is,

for the most part, conducted by half-a-dozen worthless men, dressed in

the garb of seamen (and known as turnpike sailors), one of their number

having really been at sea and therefore able to reply to any nautical

inquiries which suspicion may throw out. This person mostly carries the

document; and is, of course, the spokesman of the company. Generally

speaking, the gang have a subscription-book, sometimes only a fly-leaf

or two to the document, to receive the names of contributors.

“It may not be out of place here, to give a specimen--drawn from

memory--of one of those specious but deceitful ‘fakements’ upon which

the ‘swells,’ (especially those who have ‘been in the service,’)

‘come down with a _couter_’ (sovereign) if they ‘granny the mauley’

(perceive the signature) of a brother officer or friend. The document

is generally as follows--

“‘=These are to Certify=, to all whom it may concern, that the

THUNDERER, Captain Johnson, was returning on her homeward-bound passage

from China, laden with tea, fruit, &c., and having beside, twenty

passengers, chiefly ladies, and a crew of thirty hands, exclusive

of the captain and other officers. That the said vessel encountered

a tremendous gale off the banks of Newfoundland, and was dismasted,

and finally wrecked at midnight on’ (such a day, including the hour,

latitude, and other particulars). ‘That the above-named vessel speedily

foundered, and only the second mate and four of the crew (the bearers

of this certificate) escaped a watery grave. These, after floating

several days on broken pieces of the ship, were providentially

discovered, and humanely picked up by the brig INVINCIBLE, Captain

Smith, and landed in this town and harbour of Portsmouth, in the county

of Hants. That we, the Master of Customs, and two of her Majesty’s

Justices of the Peace for the said harbour and county, do hereby grant

and afford to the said’ (here follows the names of the unfortunate

mariners) ‘this our vouchment of the truth of the said wreck, and

their connection therewith, and do empower them to present and use

this certificate for twenty-eight days from the date hereof, to enable

them to get such temporal aid as may be adequate to reaching their

respective homes, or any sea-port where they may be re-engaged. And

this certificate further showeth, that they are not to be interrupted

in the said journey by any constabulary or other official authority;

provided, that is to say, that no breach of the peace or other

cognizable offence be committed by the said Petitioners,

‘As witness our hands,

_John Harris, M.C._ £1 0 0

_James Flood, J.P._ 1 0 0

_Capt. W. Hope, R.N., J.P._ 1 10 0

‘Given at Portsmouth, this 10th day of October, 1850.

‘GOD SAVE THE QUEEN.

_Rev. W. Wilkins_ £1 0 0

_An Officer’s Widow_ 0 10 0

_An Old Sailor_ 0 5 0

_A Friend_ 0 2 6’

“I have already hinted at the character and description of the persons

by whom these forgeries are framed. It would seem, from the example

given, that such documents are available in every sea-port or other

considerable town; but this is not the case. It is true that certain

kinds of documents, especially sham hawkers’ licenses, may be had in

the provinces, at prices suited to the importance of their contents,

or to the probable gains of their circulation; but all the ‘regular

bang-up fakes’ are manufactured in the ‘Start’ (metropolis), and

sent into the country to order, carefully packed up, and free from

observation. The following note, sent to ‘Carotty Poll, at Mrs.

Finder’s Login-ouse facin the orse and trumpet bere shop han street

Westminster London with spede,’ may tend to illuminate the uninitiated

as to how such ‘fakements’ are obtained:

‘Dere pol--I ope this will find yu an george in good helth and

spirits--things is very bad ere, yure sister Lizer has been konfined

an got a fine strappin boye, they was very bad off wen it happend.

they say in mi country it never ranes but it pores and so it was pol,

for mi William as got a month along with Cockny Harry for a glim lurk

and they kum out nex Mundie and i av porned my new shift and every

indivigual thing to get them a brekfust and a drop a rum the mornin

they kums out. They wont hav no paper to work and I dont know what

they will do. Tayler Tom lent me a shillin wish I send inklosed and

yu must porn sumthing for anuther shilling and get Joe the Loryer to

rite a fake for William not a glim’ (loss by fire) ‘but a brake say as

e ad a hors fell downe with the mad staggurs an broke all is plates

and dishes an we are starvin you can sa that the children is got the

mesuls--they av ben ill thats _no_ lie--an we want to rase a little

munney to git anuther hanimul to dror the kart put a fu monekurs’

(names) ‘tu it and make it durty and date it sum time bak do not

neglect and dont fale to pay the post no more at preasant from yure

luvin sister Jane N---- at Mister John H---- the Sweep--nex dore to

the five Bels grinsted Colchester Essex. good by.’

“The person from whom the above letter was obtained, was in the

lodging-house when it arrived, and had it given him to read and retain

for reference. Lawyer Joe was soon sent for; and the following is an

outline of the scene that occurred, given in my informant’s own words:

“I had called at the house whither the above letter had been addressed,

to inquire for a man whom I had known in his and my own better days.

The kitchen-door, or rather cellar-door, was thrust open, and in came

Carrotty Poll herself.

“‘Well, Poll,’ asked the deputy, ‘how does the world use you?’

“‘B-- bad,’ was the reply, ‘where’s Lawyer Joe?’

“‘Oh, he’s just gone to Mother Linstead’s for some tea and sugar; here

he comes.’

“‘Joe, I’ve a job for you. How much do you charge for screeving a

“brake?”’

“‘Oh, half a bull (half-a-crown).’

“‘No, I’ll give you a deuce o’ deeners (two shillings), co’s don’t ye

see the poor b-- is in “stir” (prison).’

“‘Well, well, I shan’t stand for a tanner. Have you got paper?’

“‘Yes, and a Queen’s head, and all.’

“The pen and ink were found, a corner of the table cleared, and

operations commenced.

“‘He writes a good hand,’ exclaimed one, as the screever wrote the

petition.

“‘I wish I could do it,’ said another.

“‘If you could, you’d soon be transported,’ said a third; while the

whole kitchen in one chorus, immediately on its completion, proclaimed,

that it was d--d well done, adding to that, not one ‘swell’ in a score

would view it in any other light than a ‘ream’ (genuine) concern.

“Lawyer Joe was up to his trade--he folded the paper in official

style--creased it as if it was long written and often examined,

attached the signatures of the minister and churchwardens, and dipping

his fingers under the fireplace, smeared it with ashes, and made the

whole the best representation of a true account of ‘a horse in the mad

staggers’ and ‘a child in the measles’ that could be desired by the

oldest and best cadger on the monkry.

“These professional writers are in possession of many autographs

of charitable persons, and as they keep a dozen or more bottles of

different shades of ink, and seldom write two documents on exactly the

same sort of paper, it is difficult to detect the imposition. A famous

lurker who has been previously alluded to in this work, was once taken

before a magistrate at York whose _own_ signature was attached to his

fakement. The imitation was excellent, and the ‘lurker’ swore hard and

fast to the worthy justice that he (the justice) _did_ write it in

his own saddle-room, as he was preparing to ride, and gave him five

shillings, too. The effrontery and firmness of the prisoner’s statement

gained him his discharge!

“It is not uncommon in extensive districts--say, for instance, a

section of a county taking in ten or a dozen townships--for a school

of lurkers to keep a secretary and remit his work and his pay at the

same time. In London this functionary is generally paid by commission,

and sometimes partly in food, beer, and tobacco. The following is a

fair estimate of the scale of charges:

_s._ _d._

Friendly letter 0 6

Long ditto 0 9

Petition 1 0

Ditto, with ream monekurs (genuine signatures) 1 6

Ditto, with gammy monekurs (forged names) 2 6

Very “heavy” (dangerous) 3 0

Manuscript for a broken down author 10 0

Part of a play for ditto 7 6

“To this I may add the prices of other articles in the begging line.

Loan of one child, without grub 0 9

Two ditto 1 0

Ditto, with grub and Godfrey’s Cordial 0 9

If out after twelve at night, for each child, extra 0 2

For a school of children, say half-a-dozen 2 6

Loan of any garment, per day 0 2

Going as a pal to vindicate any statement 1 0

“Such is an outline, open to circumstantial variation, of the pay

received for the sort of accommodation required.

“There is a very important species of ‘lurking’ or ‘screeving,’ which

has not yet been alluded to.

“It is well-known that in the colliery districts an explosion of

fire-damp frequently takes place, when many lives are lost, and the men

who escape are often so wounded as to render amputation of a leg or

arm the only probable means of saving them from the grave. Of course

the accident, with every particular as to date and locality, goes the

round of the newspapers. Such an event is a sort of God-send to the

begging-letter writer. If he is anything of a draughtsman, so much the

better. He then procures a sheet of vellum, and heads it with a picture

of an explosion, and exhibiting men, boys, and horses up in the air,

and a few nearer the ground, minus a head, a leg, or an arm; with a

background of women tearing their hair, and a few little girls crying.

Such a ‘fakement,’ professionally filled up and put into the hands of

an experienced lurker, will bring the ‘amanuensis,’ or ‘screever,’

two guineas at least, and the proceeds of such an expedition have in

many cases averaged 60_l._ per week. The lurker presenting this would

have to take with him three or four countrymen, dressed in the garb of

colliers, one at least knowing something of underground work. These

he would engage at ‘a bob a nob’ (one shilling each), and if he made

a good day, give them a ‘toothful o’ rum’ beside. As such men are

always left outside the jigger (door) of the houses, they are of course

ignorant of the state of the subscription-list.

“A famous lurker, to whom we have previously referred, Nicholas A----,

kept ‘a man of business’ to himself, and gave him from 5_s._ to 10_s._

6_d._ per day. Nicholas, who was tolerably educated, could write very

well, but as his ‘secretary’ could imitate twelve different hands, he

was of course no trifling acquisition.

“It would not be easy to trace the history of all, or even many of the

men, who pursue the begging-letter trade as professional writers. Many

of the vagrant tribe write their own letters, but the vast majority

are obliged to have assistance. Of course, they are sometimes detected

by the fact that their conversation does not tally with the rhetorical

statement of the petition. The few really deserving persons, well-born

and highly educated, who subsist by begging, are very retired and

cautious in their appeals. They write concisely, and their statements

are generally true to a certain extent, or perhaps rigidly so in

relation to an earlier part of their history. These seldom live in the

very common lodging-houses.

“The most renowned of the tribe who write for others, and whose general

trade lies in forged certificates of bankruptcy, seizure of goods for

rent, and medical testimonies to infirmity, is an Irishman, brought

up in London, and who may be seen almost every night at the bar of a

certain public-house in Drury-lane. He lives, or did live, at one of

the model lodging-houses. Very few persons know his occupation. They

suppose that he is ‘connected with the press.’ Several years ago this

person, says one who knew this trade well, was ‘regularly hard up,’

and made a tender of his services to a distinguished M.P., who took a

lively interest in the emancipation of the Jews. He offered to visit

the provinces, hold meetings, and get up petitions. The hon. member

tested his abilities, and gave him clothes and a ten-pound note to

commence operations. ‘I saw him’ (says my informant) ‘the same night,

and he mooted the subject to me over a glass of whiskey-punch. ‘Not

that _I_ care (said he) if all the b--y Jews were in h--ll, but I must

do something.’

“‘But how,’ asked my informant, ‘will you get up the meetings?--and

then the signatures, you know!’

“‘Meetings!’ was the reply, ‘don’t mention it; I can get _millions of

signatures_!’

“The pretended Jewish Advocate never left London. He got (from Ireland)

a box of old documents relative to bygone petitions for repeal, &c.,

and on these he put a frontispiece suited to his purpose--got them

sent to Bath and Bristol, and thence transmitted to his employer--who

praised his perseverance, and sent more money to the post-office of

one of the above-named towns; this was countermanded to London, and

jovially spent at Tom Spring’s’ in Holborn.

“Hitherto the movements of the begging-letter

writer--self-considered--have been chiefly dwelt upon. There is

another class of the fraternity, however, of whom some notice must

here be taken; viz., those, who to meet cases of great pretension,

and consequent misgivings on the part of the noblemen or gentry to

whom fakements are presented, become referees to professional beggars.

These referees are kept by local ‘schools’ of beggars in well-furnished

apartments at respectable houses, and well dressed; their allowance

varies from 1_l._ to 3_l._ per week.

“But the most expert and least suspected dodge is referring to some

dignified person in the country; a person however who exists nowhere

but in imagination. Suppose (says my informant) I am a beggar, I apply

to you for relief. Perhaps I state that I am in prospect of lucrative

employment, if I could get enough money to clothe myself. You plead the

number of impositions; I consent to that fact, but offer you references

as to the truth of my statement. I refer you to the Hon. and Rev.

Mr. Erskine, at Cheltenham (any name or place will do). You promise

to write, and tell me to call in a few days; meanwhile, I assume the

name of the gentleman to whom I have referred you, and write forthwith

to the post-master of the town in question, requesting that any

letter coming there directed to the Hon. and Rev. Mr. Erskine, may be

forwarded to my present address. I thus discover what you have written,

frame a flattering reply, and address it to you. I send it (under

cover) to a pal of mine at Cheltenham, or elsewhere, who posts it; I

call half an hour after you receive it, and, being satisfied, you give

me a donation, and perhaps introduce me to some of your friends. Thus I

raise a handsome sum, and the fraud is probably never found out.

“One of the London lurkers, who has good means of forming a calculation

on the subject, assures me that the average earnings of ‘lurkers’ in

London alone (including those who write for them), cannot be less than

6,000_l._ per annum.

“Two of the class were lately apprehended, at the instance of the Duke

of Wellington; on their persons was found fifteen sovereigns, one

five-pound note, a silver watch with gold guard, and two gold watches

with a ribbon attached to each; their subscription-book showed that

they had collected 620_l._ during the current year.

“A man named M’Kensie--who was transported at the last Bristol

Assizes--had just received a cheque for 100_l._ from a nobleman lately

deceased.

“Most of the ‘professionals’ of this class include a copy of the ‘Court

Guide’ among their stock in trade. In this all the persons known to be

charitable, have the mark [cross in circle] set against their names.

I have been furnished with a list of such persons, accompanied with

comments, from the note-book of ‘an old stager’ ‘thirty years on

the monkery,’ and, as he adds, ‘never quodded but twice.’

“The late Queen Dowager.

Hon. Wm. Ashley.

The Bishop of Norwich.

Serjeant Talfourd.

Charles Dickins.

Samuel Rogers, the Poet.

Samuel Warren (Author of ‘Extracts from the Diary of a Physician’).

Hon. G. C. Norton, the ‘beak’ (magistrate), but good for all that.

Rev. E. Holland, Hyde-park-gardens.

The late Sir Robert Peel.

Countess of Essex (only good to sickness, or distressed authorship).

Marquess of Bredalbane (good on anything religious).

The Editor of the ‘Sun.’

Madame Celeste.

Marquess of Blandford.

Duke of Portland.

Duke of Devonshire.

Lord George Bentinck (deceased; God A’mighty wouldn’t let him live; he

was too good for this world.)

Lord Skelmersdale.

Lord John Manners.

Lord Lyttleton.

Mrs. Elder, Exeter.

Lady Emily Ponsonby (a devilish pretty wench).

Miss Burdett Coutts.

F. Stewart, Esq., Bath.

Mrs. Groves, Salisbury.

Mrs. Mitchell, Dorchester.

London Labour and the London Poor, Vol. 1 · 第 70 / 115 段