tea-trays, copper kettles, fire-irons, guns, whips, to all of which
they have some preamble; but their most attractive lot is a heap of
miscellaneous articles:--“I have here a pair of scissors; I only
want half-a-crown for them. What! you won’t give 1_s._? well, I’ll
add something else. Here’s a most useful article--a knife with eight
blades, and there’s not a blade among you all that’s more highly
polished. This knife’s a case of instruments in addition to the blades;
here’s a corkscrew, a button-hook, a file, and a picker. For this
capital knife and first-rate pair of scissors I ask 1_s._ Well, well,
you’ve no more conscience than a lawyer; here’s something else--a
pocket-book. This book no gentleman should be without; it contains
a diary for every day in the week, an almanack, a ready-reckoner, a
tablet for your own memorandums, pockets to keep your papers, and a
splendid pencil with a silver top. No buyers! I’m astonished; but I’ll
add another article. Here’s a pocket-comb. No young man with any sense
of decency should be without a pocket-comb. What looks worse than to
see a man’s head in an uproar? Some of you look as if your hair hadn’t
seen a comb for years. Surely I shall get a customer now. What! no
buyers--well I never! Here, I’ll add half-a-dozen of the very best
Britannia metal tea-spoons, and if you don’t buy, you must be spoons
yourselves. Why, you perfectly astonish me! I really believe if I was
to offer all in the shop, myself included, I should not draw 1_s._ out
of you. Well, I’ll try again. Here, I’ll add a dozen of black-lead
pencils. Now, then, look at these articles”--(he spreads them out,
holding them between his fingers to the best advantage)--“here’s a
pair of first-rate scissors, that will almost cut of themselves,--this
valuable knife, which comprises within itself almost a chest of
tools,--a splendid pocket-book, which must add to the respectability
and consequence of any man who wears it,--a pocket-comb which possesses
the peculiar property of making the hair curl, and dyeing it any colour
you wish,--a half-dozen spoons, nothing inferior to silver, and that do
not require half the usual quantity of sugar to sweeten your tea,--and
a dozen beautiful pencils, at least worth the money I ask for the whole
lot. Now, a reasonable price for these articles would be at least
10_s._ 6_d._; I’ll sell them for 1_s._ I ask no more, I’ll take no
less. Sold again!”
The opposition these men display to each other, while pursuing their
business, is mostly assumed, for the purpose of attracting a crowd.
Sometimes, when in earnest, their language is disgusting; and I have
seen them, (says an informant), after selling, try and settle their
differences with a game at fisticuffs: but this occurred but seldom.
One of these men had a wife who used to sell for him,--she was
considered to be the best “chaffer” on the road; not one of them could
stand against her tongue: but her language abounded with obscenity. All
the “cheap Johns” were afraid of her.
They never under-sell each other (unless they get in a real passion);
this but seldom happens, but when it does they are exceedingly bitter
against each other. I cannot state the language they use, further than
that it reaches the very summit of blackguardism. They have, however,
assumed quarrels, for the purpose of holding a crowd together, and
chaff goes round, intended to amuse their expected customers.
“He’s coming your way to-morrow,” they’ll say one of the other, “mind
and don’t hang your husbands’ shirts to dry, ladies, he’s very lucky at
finding things before they’re lost; he sells very cheap, no doubt--but
mind, if you handle any of his wares, he don’t make you a present of a
Scotch fiddle for nothing. His hair looks as if it had been cut with a
knife and fork.”
The Irishmen, in these displays, generally have the best of it; indeed,
most of their jokes have originated with the Irishmen, who complain of
the piracies of other “cheap Johns,” for as soon as the joke is uttered
it is the property of the commonwealth, and not unfrequently used
against the inventor half an hour after its first appearance.
A few of them are not over particular as to the respectability of
their transactions. I recollect one purchasing a brick at Sheffield;
the brick was packed up in paper, with a knife tied on the outside,
it appeared like a package of knives, containing several dozens. The
“cheap John” made out that he bought them as stolen property; the
biter was deservedly bitten. A few of the fraternity are well-known
“Fences,” and some of them pursue the double calling of “cheap John”
and gambler--keeping gambling tables at races. However the majority are
hard-working men, who unite untiring industry with the most indomitable
perseverance, for the laudable purpose of bettering their condition.
I believe the most successful in the line have worked their way up from
nothing, gaining experience as they proceeded. I have known two or
three start the trade with plenty of stock, but, wanting the tact, they
have soon been knocked off the road. There is a great deal of judgment
required in knowing the best fairs, and even when there, as to getting
a good stand; and these matters are to be acquired only by practice.
In the provinces, and in Scotland, there may be 100 “cheap Johns,”
or, as they term themselves, “Han-sellers.” They are generally a most
persevering body of men, and have frequently risen from small hawkers
of belts, braces, &c. Their receipts are from 5_l._ to 30_l._ per day,
their profits from 20 to 25 per cent.; 20_l._ is considered a good
day’s work; and they can take about three fairs a week during the
summer months. “I have known many of these men,” a man well acquainted
with them informs me, “who would walk 20 miles to a fair during the
night, hawk the public-houses the whole of the day, and start again
all night for a fair to be held 20 miles off upon the following day. I
knew two Irish lads, named ----, and I watched their progress with some
interest. Each had a stock of goods worth a few shillings; and now each
has a wholesale warehouse,--one at Sheffield, in the cutlery line, and
the other at Birmingham, in general wares.”
The goods the han-seller disposes of are mostly purchased at Sheffield
and Birmingham. They purchase the cheapest goods they can obtain.
Many of the han-sellers have settled in various parts of England as
“swag-shop keepers.” There are two or three in London, I am told, who
have done so; one in the Kent-road, a large concern,--the others I am
not aware of their locality. Their mode of living while travelling is
rather peculiar. Those who have their caravans, sleep in them, some
with their wives and families; they have a man, or more generally a
boy, to look after the horse, and other drudgery, and sometimes at a
fair, to hawk, or act as a _button_ (a _decoy_), to purchase the first
lot of goods put up. This boy is accommodated with a bed made between
the wheels of the cart or wagon, with some old canvas hung round to
keep the weather out--not the most comfortable quarters, perhaps,--but,
as they say, “it’s nothing when you’re used to it.” The packing up
occurs when there’s no more chance of effecting sales; the horse is put
to, and the caravan proceeds on the road towards the next town intended
to visit. After a sufficient days’ travel, the “cheap John” looks
out for a spot to encamp for the night. A clear stream of water, and
provender for the horse, are indispensable; or perhaps the han-seller
has visited that part before, and is aware of the halting-place.
After having released the horse, and secured his fore-feet, so that
he cannot stray, the next process is to look for some _crack_ (some
dry wood to light a fire); this is the boy’s work. He is told not to
despoil hedges, or damage fences: “cheap John” doesn’t wish to offend
the farmers; and during his temporary sojourn in the green lanes, he
frequently has some friendly chat with the yeomen and their servants,
sometimes disposes of goods, and often barters for a piece of fat bacon
or potatoes. A fire is lighted between the shafts of the cart,--a stick
placed across, upon which is suspended the cookery utensil. When the
meal is concluded, the parties retire to bed,--the master within the
caravan, and the boy to his chamber between the wheels. Sometimes they
breakfast before they proceed on their journey; at other times they
travel a few miles first.
Those who have children bring them up in such a manner as may be
imagined considering their itinerant life: but there are very few
who have families travelling with them; though in most cases a wife;
generally the children of the “cheap John” are stationary, either out
at nurse or with relatives.
Some of the “cheap Johns” have wagons upon four wheels, others have
carts; but both are fitted up with a wooden roof. The proprietor
invariably sleeps within his portable house, both for the protection
of his property and also upon the score of economy. The vans with four
wheels answer all the purposes of a habitation. The furniture consists
of a bed placed upon boxes, containing the stock in trade. The bed
extends the whole width of the vehicle, about 6 ft. 6 in., and many
generally extend about 5 ft. into the body of the van, and occupies the
farthest end of the machine from the door,--which door opens out upon
the horse. The four-wheeled vans are 12 ft. long, and the two-wheeled
carts 9 ft. During business hours the whole of the articles most likely
to be wanted are spread out upon the bed, and the assistant (either the
wife or a boy) hands them out as the salesman may require them. The
furniture, in addition to the bed, is very scarce; indeed they are very
much averse to carry more than is really necessary. The pail, the horse
takes his corn and beans from (I don’t know why, but they never use
nose-bags,) serves the purpose of a wash-hand basin or a washing-tub.
It is generally painted the same colour as the van, with the initials
of the proprietor painted upon it, and, when travelling, hangs upon a
hook under the machine. They mostly begin with a two-wheeled machine,
and if successful a four-wheeler follows. The tables and chairs are
the boxes in which the goods are packed. A tea-kettle and saucepan,
and as few delf articles as possible, and corner-cupboard, and these
comprise the whole of the furniture of the van. In the four-wheeled
wagons there is always a fire-place similar to those the captains of
ships have in their cabins, but in the two-wheeled carts fire-places
are dispensed with. These are mostly brass ones, and are kept very
bright; for the “cheap Johns” are proud of their van and its contents.
They are always gaudily painted, sometimes expensively; indeed they are
most expensive articles, and cost from 80_l._ to 120_l._ The principal
person for making these machines is a Mr. Davidson of Leeds. The
showman’s caravans are still more expensive; the last purchased by the
late Mr. Wombwell cost more than 300_l._, and is really a curiosity.
He termed it, as all showmen do--the living wagon; viz. to live in--it
has parlour and kitchen, and is fitted up most handsomely; its exterior
presents the appearance of a first-class railway-carriage. The front
exterior of the van during the trading operations of the “cheap Johns,”
is hung round with guns, saws, tea-trays, bridles, whips, centre-bits,
and other articles, displayed to the best advantage. The name of the
proprietor is always prominently displayed along the whole side of
the vehicle, added to which is a signification that he is a wholesale
hardwareman, from Sheffield, Yorkshire, or Birmingham, Warwickshire,
and sometimes an extra announcement.
“_The original cheap John._”
I do not know any class of men who are more fond of the good things
of this life than “cheap John;” his dinner, during a fair, is
generally eaten upon the platform outside his van, where he disposes
of his wares, and invariably consists of a joint of baked meat and
potatoes--that is where they can get a dinner baked. As little time
as possible is occupied in eating, especially if trade is good. At
a hill fair (that is where the fair is held upon a hill away from
a town), a fire is made behind the cart, the pot is suspended upon
three sticks, and dinner prepared in the usual camp fashion. The wife
or boy superintends this. Tea and coffee also generally find their
way to their table; and if there’s no cold meat a plentiful supply
of bacon, beef-steaks, eggs, or something in the shape of a relish,
seem to be with “cheap John” indispensable. His man or boy (if John is
unmarried) appears to be upon an equality with the master in the eating
department; he is not allowanced, neither has he to wait until his
superior has finished. Get it over as quick as you can seems to be the
chief object. Perhaps from the circumstance of their selling guns, and
consequently always having such implements in their possession, these
men, when they have time on their hands, are fond of the sports of the
field, and many a hare finds its way into the camp-kettle of “cheap
John.” I need not say that they practise this sport with but little
respectful feeling towards the Game-laws; but they are careful when
indulging in such amusement, and I never heard of one getting into a
hobble.
During the winter (since the “cheap John” has been obliged to become
a licensed auctioneer), some of them take shops and sell their goods
by auction, or get up mock-auctions. I have been told by them that
sometimes its a better game than “han-selling.”
The commencement of the “cheap John’s” season is at Lynn in Norfolk;
there is a mart there commencing 14th February, it continues fourteen
days. After this, there is Wisbeach, Spalding, Grantham, and other
marts in Norfolk and Lincolnshire; which bring them up to Easter.
At Easter there are many fairs--Manchester, Knott Mill, Blackburn,
Darlington, Newcastle, &c., &c. The “cheap Johns” then disperse
themselves through different parts of the country. Hill-fairs are
considered the best; that is cattle-fairs, where there are plenty of
farmers and country people. Hirings for servants are next to them. It
may appear curious, but Sheffield and Birmingham fairs are two of the
best for the “cheap John’s” business in England. There are two fairs
at each place during the year. Sheffield, at Whitsuntide and November;
Birmingham, Whitsuntide and September. Nottingham, Derby, Leeds,
Newcastle, Bristol, Glasgow--in fact, where the greatest population is,
the chances for business are considered the best, and if I may judge
from the number of traders in this line, who attend the largest towns,
I should say they succeed better than in smaller towns.
If we calculate that there are 100 “cheap Johns” in London and in the
country, and they are more or less itinerant, and that they each take
4_l._ per day for nine months in the year, or 24_l._ per week; this
amounts to 2,400_l._ per week, or about 90,000_l._ in nine months.
Supposing their profits to be 20 per cent., it would leave 18,000_l._
clear income. Say that during the winter there are seventy-five
following the business, and that their receipts amount to 15_l._ each
per week, this amounts to 13,500_l._ additional; and, at the rate of 20
per cent. profit, comes to 2,700_l._,--making throughout the year the
profits of the 100 “cheap Johns” 20,700_l._, or 207_l._ a man.
The “cheap Johns” seldom frequent the crowded thoroughfares of
London. Their usual pitches in the metropolis are, King’s-cross,
St. George’s-in-the-East, Stepney, round about the London Docks,
Paddington, Kennington, and such like places.
THE CRIPPLED STREET-SELLER OF NUTMEG-GRATERS.
I now give an example of one of the classes _driven_ to the streets
by utter inability to labour. I have already spoken of the sterling
independence of some of these men possessing the strongest claims
to our sympathy and charity, and yet preferring to _sell_ rather
than _beg_. As I said before, many ingrained beggars certainly use
the street _trade_ as a cloak for alms-seeking, but as certainly
many more, with every title to our assistance, use it as a means of
redemption from beggary. That the nutmeg-grater seller is a noble
example of the latter class, I have not the least doubt. I have made
all due inquiries to satisfy myself as to his worthiness, and I feel
convinced that when the reader looks at the portrait here given, and
observes how utterly helpless the poor fellow is, and then reads the
following plain unvarnished tale, he will marvel like me, not only at
the fortitude which could sustain him under all his heavy afflictions,
but at the resignation (not to say philosophy) with which he bears
them every one. His struggles to earn his own living (notwithstanding
his physical incapacity even to put the victuals to his mouth after
he has earned them), are instances of a nobility of pride that are
I believe without a parallel. The poor creature’s legs and arms are
completely withered; indeed he is scarcely more than head and trunk.
His thigh is hardly thicker than a child’s wrist. His hands are bent
inward from contraction of the sinews, the fingers being curled up and
almost as thin as the claws of a bird’s foot. He is unable even to
stand, and cannot move from place to place but on his knees, which are
shod with leather caps, like the heels of a clog, strapped round the
joint; the soles of his boots are on the _upper_ leathers, that being
the part always turned towards the ground while he is crawling along.
His countenance is rather handsome than otherwise; the intelligence
indicated by his ample forehead is fully borne out by the testimony as
to his sagacity in his business, and the mild expression of his eye by
the statements as to his feeling for all others in affliction.
“I sell nutmeg-graters and funnels,” said the cripple to me; “I sell
them at 1_d._ and 1-1/2_d._ a piece. I get mine of the man in whose
house I live. He is a tinman, and makes for the street-trade and shops
and all. I pay 7_d._ a dozen for them, and I get 12_d._ or 18_d._ a
dozen, if I can when I sell them, but I mostly get only a penny a
piece--it’s quite a chance if I have a customer at 1-1/2_d._ Some days
I sell only three--some days not one--though I’m out from ten o’clock
till six. The most I ever took was 3_s._ 6_d._ in a day. Some weeks I
hardly clear my expenses--and they’re between 7_s._ and 8_s._ a week;
for not being able to dress and ondress myself, I’m obligated to pay
some one to do it for me--I think I don’t clear more than 7_s._ a
week take one week with another. When I don’t make that much, I go
without--sometimes friends who are kind to me give me a trifle, or
else I should starve. As near as I can judge, I _take_ about 15_s._
a week, and out of that I clear about 6_s._ or 7_s._ I pay for my
meals as I have them--3_d._ or 4_d._ a meal. I pay every night for my
lodging as I go in, if I can; but if not my landlady lets it run a
night or two. I give her 1_s._ a week for my washing and looking after
me, and 1_s._ 6_d._ for my lodging. When I do very well I have three
meals a day, but it’s oftener only two--breakfast and supper--unless
of Sunday. On a wet day when I can’t get out, I often go without food.
I may have a bit of bread and butter give me, but that’s all--then I
lie a-bed. I feel miserable enough when I see the rain come down of a
week day, I can tell you. Ah, it _is_ very miserable indeed lying in
bed all day, and in a lonely room, without perhaps a person to come
near one--helpless as I am--and hear the rain beat against the windows,
and all that without nothing to put in your lips. I’ve done _that_
over and over again where I lived before; but where I am now I’m more
comfortable like. My breakfast is mostly bread and butter and tea; and
my supper, bread and butter and tea with a bit of fish, or a small
bit of meat. What my landlord and landlady has I share with them. I
never break my fast from the time I go out in the morning till I come
home--unless it is a halfpenny orange I buy in the street; I do that
when I feel faint. I have only been selling in the streets since this
last winter. I was in the workhouse with a fever all the summer. I was
destitute afterwards, and obliged to begin selling in the streets.
The Guardians gave me 5_s._ to get stock. I had always dealt in tin
ware, so I knew where to go to buy my things. It’s very hard work
indeed is street-selling for such as me. I can’t walk no distance. I
suffer a great deal of pains in my back and knees. Sometimes I go in a
barrow, when I’m travelling any great way. When I go only a short way
I crawl along on my knees and toes. The most I’ve ever crawled is two
miles. When I get home afterwards, I’m in great pain. My knees swell
dreadfully, and they’re all covered with blisters, and my toes ache
awful. I’ve corns all on top of them.
[Illustration: THE STREET-SELLER OF NUTMEG-GRATERS.
[_From a Daguerreotype by_ BEARD.]]