lodging-houses, I will now give the statement of a boy--a young
pickpocket--without shoes or stockings. He wore a ragged, dirty,
and very thin great coat, of some dark jean or linen, under which
was another thin coat, so arranged that what appeared rents--and,
indeed, were rents, but designedly made--in the outer garment, were
slits through which the hand readily reached the pockets of the inner
garment, and could there deposit any booty. He was a slim, agile lad,
with a sharp but not vulgar expression, and small features. His hands
were of singular delicacy and beauty. His fingers were very long, and
no lady’s could have been more taper. A burglar told me that with such
a hand he ought to have made his fortune. He was worth 20_l._ a week,
he said, as a “_wire_,” that is, a picker of ladies’ pockets. When
engaged “for a turn,” as he told me he once was by an old pickpocket,
the man looked minutely at his fingers, and approved of them highly.
His hands, the boy said, were hardly serviceable to him when very cold.
His feet were formed in the same symmetrical and beautiful mould as
his hands. “I am 15,” he said. “My father was a potter, and I can’t
recollect my mother” (many of the thieves are orphans or motherless).
“My father has been dead about five years. I was then working at the
pottery in High-street, Lambeth, earning about 4_s._ a week; in good
weeks, 4_s._ 6_d._ I was in work eight months after my father died;
but one day I broke three bottles by accident, and the foreman said ‘I
shan’t want you any more;’ and I took that as meant for a discharge;
but I found afterwards that he did’nt so mean it. I had 2_s._ and a
suit of clothes then, and tried for work at all the potteries; but
I couldn’t get any. It was about the time Smithfield fair was on. I
went, but it was a very poor concern. I fell asleep in a pen in the
afternoon, and had my shoes stolen off my feet. When I woke up, I
began crying. A fellow named Gyp then came along (I knew his name
afterwards), and he said, ‘What are you crying for?’ and I told him,
and he said, ‘Pull off your stockings, and come with me, and I’ll show
you where to sleep.’ So I did, and he took me to St. Olave’s workhouse,
having first sold my stockings. I had never stolen anything until
then. There I slept in the casual ward, and Gyp slept there too. In
the morning we started together for Smithfield, where he said he had
a job to sweep the pens, but he couldn’t sweep them without pulling
off his coat, and it would look so queer if he hadn’t a shirt--and
he hadn’t one. He promised to teach me how to make a living in the
country if I would lend him mine, and I was persuaded--for I was an
innocent lad then--and went up a gateway and stripped off my shirt
and gave it to him, and soon after he went into a public-house to get
half a pint of beer; he went in at one door and out at another, and I
didn’t see him for six months afterwards. That afternoon I went into
Billingsgate market and met some boys, and one said, ‘Mate, how long
have you been knocking about; where did you doss?’ I didn’t know what
they meant, and when they’d told me they meant where did I sleep? I
told them how I’d been served. And they said, ‘Oh! you must expect
that, until you learn something,’ and they laughed. They all know’d
Gyp; he was like the head of a Billingsgate gang once. I became a pal
with these boys at Billingsgate, and we went about stealing fish and
meat. Some boys have made 2_s._ in a morning, when fish is dear--those
that had pluck and luck; they sold it at half-price. Billingsgate
market is a good place to sell it; plenty of costermongers are there
who will buy it, rather than of the salesmen. I soon grew as bad as
the rest at this work. At first I sold it to other boys, who would get
3_d._ for what they bought at 1_d._ Now they can’t do me. If I can
get a thing cheap where I lodge, and have the money, and can sell
it dear, that’s the chance. I carried on this fish rig for about two
years, and went begging a little, too. I used to try a little thieving
sometimes in Petticoat-lane. They say the ‘fliest’ is easy to take
in sometimes--that’s the artfullest; but I could do no good there.
At these two years’ end, I was often as happy as could be; that is,
when I had made money. Then I met B----, whom I had often heard of as
an uncommon clever pickpocket; he could do it about as well as I can
now, so as people won’t feel it. Three of his mates were transported
for stealing silver plate. He and I became pals, and started for the
country with 1_d._ We went through Foot’s Cray, and passed a farm
where a man’s buried at the top of a house; there’s something about
money while a man’s above ground; I don’t understand it, but it’s
something like that. A baker, about thirty miles from London, offended
us about some bread; and B---- said ‘I’ll serve him out.’ We watched
him out, and B---- tried at his pocket, saying, ‘I’ll show you how to
do a handkerchief;’ but the baker looked round, and B---- stopped; and
just after that I flared it (whisked the handkerchief out); and that’s
the first I did. It brought 1_s._ 3_d._ We travelled across country,
and got to Maidstone, and did two handkerchiefs. One I wore round my
neck, and the other the lodging-housekeeper pawned for us for 1_s._
6_d._ In Maidstone, next morning, I was nailed, and had three months
of it. I didn’t mind it so much then, but Maidstone’s far worse now,
I’ve heard. I have been in prison three times in Brixton, three times
in the Old Horse (Bridewell), three times in the Compter, once in the
Steel, and once in Maidstone--thirteen times in all, including twice I
was remanded, and got off; but I don’t reckon that prison. Every time
I came out harder than I went in. I’ve had four floggings; it was bad
enough--a flogging was--while it lasted; but when I got out I soon
forgot it. At a week’s end I never thought again about it. If I had
been better treated I should have been a better lad. I could leave off
thieving now as if I had never thieved, if I could live without.” [I
am inclined to doubt this part of the statement.] “I have carried on
this sort of life until now. I didn’t often make a very good thing of
it. I saw Manning and his wife hung. Mrs. Manning was dressed beautiful
when she came up. She screeched when Jack Ketch pulled the bolt away.
She was harder than Manning, they all said; without her there would
have been no murder. It was a great deal talked about, and Manning was
pitied. It was a punishment to her to come on the scaffold and see
Manning with the rope about his neck, if people takes it in the right
light. I did 4_s._ 6_d._ at the hanging--two handkerchiefs, and a purse
with 2_s._ in it--the best purse I ever had; but I’ve only done three
or four purses. The reason is, because I’ve never been well dressed.
If I went near a lady, she would say, ‘Tush, tush, you ragged fellow!’
and would shrink away. But I would rather rob the rich than the poor;
they miss it less. But 1_s._ honest goes further than 5_s._ stolen.
Some call that only a saying, but it’s true. All the money I got
soon went--most of it a-gambling. Picking pockets, when any one comes
to think on it, is the daringest thing that a boy can do. It didn’t
in the least frighten me to see Manning and Mrs. Manning hanged. I
never thought I should come to the gallows, and I never shall--I’m not
high-tempered enough for that. The only thing that frightens me when
I’m in prison is sleeping in a cell by myself--you do in the Old Horse
and the Steel--because I think things may appear. You can’t imagine
how one dreams when in trouble. I’ve often started up in a fright
from a dream. I don’t know what might appear. I’ve heard people talk
about ghosts and that. Once, in the County, a tin had been left under
a tap that went drip--drip--drip. And all in the ward were shocking
frightened; and weren’t we glad when we found out what it was! Boys
tell stories about haunted castles, and cats that are devils; and that
frightens one. At the fire in Monument-yard I did 5_s._ 7_d._--3_s._
in silver and 2_s._ 3_d._ in handkerchiefs, and 4_d._ for three pairs
of gloves. I sell my handkerchiefs in the Lane (Petticoat-lane). I
carry on this trade still. Most times I’ve got in prison is when I’ve
been desperate from hunger, and have said to B----, ‘Now I’ll have
money, nailed or not nailed.’ I can pick a woman’s pocket as easy as a
man’s, though you wouldn’t think it. If one’s in prison for begging,
one’s laughed at. The others say, ‘Begging! Oh, you cadger!’ So a boy
is partly forced to steal for his character. I’ve lived a good deal in
lodging-houses, and know the ways of them. They are very bad places for
a boy to be in. Where I am now, when the place is full, there’s upwards
of 100 can be accommodated. I won’t be there long. I’ll do something
to get out of it. There’s people there will rob their own brother.
There’s people there talk backward--for one they say _eno_, for two
_owt_, for three _eerht_, for four _ruof_, for five _evif_, for six
_exis_. I don’t know any higher. I can neither read nor write. In this
lodging-house there are no women. They talk there chiefly about what
they’ve done, or are going to do, or have set their minds upon, just
as you and any other gentlemen might do. I have been in lodging-houses
in Mint-street and Kent-street, where men and women and children all
slept in one room. I think the men and women who slept together were
generally married, or lived together; but it’s not right for a big boy
to sleep in the same room. Young men have had beds to themselves, and
so have young women there; but there’s a deputy comes into the room,
every now and then, to see there’s nothing wrong. There’s little said
in these places, the people are generally so tired. Where I am there’s
horrid language--swearing, and everything that’s bad. They are to be
pitied, because there’s not work for honest people, let alone thieves.
In the lodging-houses the air is very bad, enough to stifle one in
bed--so many breaths together. Without such places my trade couldn’t
be carried on; I couldn’t live. Some though would find another way
out. Three or four would take a room among them. Anybody’s money’s
good--you can always get a room. I would be glad to leave this life,
and work at a pottery. As to sea, a bad captain would make me run
away--sure. He can do what he likes with you when you’re out at sea. I
don’t get more than 2_s._ a week, one week with the other, by thieving;
some days you do nothing until hunger makes your spirits rise. I
can’t thieve on a full belly. I live on 2_s._ a week from thieving,
because I understand fiddling--that means, buying a thing for a mere
trifle, and selling it for double, or for more, if you’re not taken
in yourself. I’ve been put up to a few tricks in lodging-houses, and
now I can put others up to it. Everybody must look after themselves,
and I can’t say I was very sorry when I stole that 2_s._ from a poor
woman, but I’d rather have had 1_s._ 6_d._ from a rich one. I never
drink--eating’s my part. I spend chief part of my money in pudding. I
don’t like living in lodging-houses, but I must like it as I’m placed
now--that sort of living, and those lodging-houses, or starving. They
bring tracts to the lodging-houses--pipes are lighted with them; tracts
won’t fill your belly. Tracts is no good, except to a person that has
a home; at the lodging-houses they’re laughed at. They seldom are
mentioned. I’ve heard some of them read by missionaries, but can’t
catch anything from them. If it had been anything bad, I should have
caught it readily. If an innocent boy gets into a lodging-house, he’ll
not be innocent long--he can’t. I know three boys who have run away,
and are in the lodging-houses still, but I hope their father has caught
them. Last night a little boy came to the lodging-house where I was.
We all thought he had run away, by the way he spoke. He stayed all
night, but was found out in two or three falsehoods. I wanted to get
him back home, or he’ll be as bad as I am in time, though he’s nothing
to me; but I couldn’t find him this morning; but I’ll get him home yet,
perhaps. The Jews in Petticoat-lane are terrible rogues. They’ll buy
anything of you--they’ll buy what you’ve stolen from their next-door
neighbours--that they would, if they knew it. But they’ll give you
very little for it, and they threaten to give you up if you won’t take
a quarter of the value of it. ‘Oh! I shee you do it,’ they say, ‘and
I like to shee him robbed, but you musht take vot I give.’ I wouldn’t
mind what harm came to those Petticoat-laners. Many of them are worth
thousands, though you wouldn’t think it.” After this I asked him what
he, as a sharp lad, thought was the cause of so many boys becoming
vagrant pickpockets? He answered, “Why, sir, if boys runs away, and
has to shelter in low lodging-houses--and many runs away from cruel
treatment at home--they meet there with boys such as me, or as bad,
and the devil soon lays his hand on them. If there wasn’t so many
lodging-houses there wouldn’t be so many bad boys--there couldn’t.
Lately a boy came down to Billingsgate, and said he wouldn’t stay at
home to be knocked about any longer. He said it to some boys like me;
and he was asked if he could get anything from his mother, and he said
‘yes, he could.’ So he went back, and brought a brooch and some other
things with him to a place fixed on, and then he and some of the boys
set off for the country; and that’s the way boys is trapped. I think
the fathers of such boys either ill-treat them, or neglect them; and
so they run away. My father used to beat me shocking; so I hated home.
I stood hard licking well, and was called ‘the plucked one.’” This boy
first stole flowers, currants, and gooseberries out of the clergyman’s
garden, more by way of bravado, and to ensure the approbation of his
comrades, than for anything else. He answered readily to my inquiry,
as to what he thought would become of him?--“Transportation. If a boy
has great luck he may carry on for eight years. Three or four years
is the common run, but transportation is what he’s sure to come to in
the end.” This lad picked my pocket at my request, and so dexterously
did he do his “work,” that though I was alive to what he was trying to
do, it was impossible for me to detect the least movement of my coat.
To see him pick the pockets, as he did, of some of the gentlemen who
were present on the occasion, was a curious sight. He crept behind much
like a cat with his claws out, and while in the act held his breath
with suspense; but immediately the handkerchief was safe in his hand,
the change in the expression of his countenance was most marked. He
then seemed almost to be convulsed with delight at the success of his
perilous adventure, and, turning his back, held up the handkerchief to
discover the value of his prize, with intense glee evident in every
feature.
STATEMENT OF A PROSTITUTE.
The narrative which follows--that of a prostitute, sleeping in the
low-lodging houses, where boys and girls are all huddled promiscuously
together, discloses a system of depravity, atrocity, and enormity,
which certainly cannot be paralleled in any nation, however barbarous,
nor in any age, however “dark.” The facts detailed, it will be seen,
are gross enough to make us all blush for the land in which such scenes
can be daily perpetrated. The circumstances, which it is impossible to
publish, are of the most loathsome and revolting nature.
A good-looking girl of sixteen gave me the following awful statement:--
“I am an orphan. When I was ten I was sent to service as maid of
all-work, in a small tradesman’s family. It was a hard place, and my
mistress used me very cruelly, beating me often. When I had been in
place three weeks, my mother died; my father having died twelve years
before. I stood my mistress’s ill-treatment for about six months. She
beat me with sticks as well as with her hands. I was black and blue,
and at last I ran away. I got to Mrs. ----, a low lodging-house. I
didn’t know before that there was such a place. I heard of it from
some girls at the Glasshouse (baths and washhouses), where I went for
shelter. I went with them to have a halfpenny worth of coffee, and they
took me to the lodging-house. I then had three shillings, and stayed
about a month, and did nothing wrong, living on the three shillings
and what I pawned my clothes for, as I got some pretty good things away
with me. In the lodging-house I saw nothing but what was bad, and heard
nothing but what was bad. I was laughed at, and was told to swear.
They said, ‘Look at her for a d---- modest fool’--sometimes worse
than that, until by degrees I got to be as bad as they were. During
this time I used to see boys and girls from ten and twelve years old
sleeping together, but understood nothing wrong. I had never heard of
such places before I ran away. I can neither read nor write. My mother
was a good woman, and I wish I’d had her to run away to. I saw things
between almost children that I can’t describe to you--very often I saw
them, and that shocked me. At the month’s end, when I was beat out, I
met with a young man of fifteen--I myself was going on to twelve years
old--and he persuaded me to take up with him. I stayed with him three
months in the same lodging-house, living with him as his wife, though
we were mere children, and being true to him. At the three months’ end
he was taken up for picking pockets, and got six months. I was sorry,
for he was kind to me; though I was made ill through him; so I broke
some windows in St. Paul’s-churchyard to get into prison to get cured.
I had a month in the Compter, and came out well. I was scolded very
much in the Compter, on account of the state I was in, being so young.
I had 2_s._ 6_d._ given to me when I came out, and was forced to go
into the streets for a living. I continued walking the streets for
three years, sometimes making a good deal of money, sometimes none,
feasting one day and starving the next. The bigger girls could persuade
me to do anything they liked with my money. I was never happy all the
time, but I could get no character and could not get out of the life.
I lodged all this time at a lodging-house in Kent-street. They were
all thieves and bad girls. I have known between three and four dozen
boys and girls sleep in one room. The beds were horrid filthy and
full of vermin. There was very wicked carryings on. The boys, if any
difference, was the worst. We lay packed on a full night, a dozen boys
and girls squeedged into one bed. That was very often the case--some
at the foot and some at the top--boys and girls all mixed. I can’t go
into all the particulars, but whatever could take place in words or
acts between boys and girls did take place, and in the midst of the
others. I am sorry to say I took part in these bad ways myself, but I
wasn’t so bad as some of the others. There was only a candle burning
all night, but in summer it was light great part of the night. Some
boys and girls slept without any clothes, and would dance about the
room that way. I have seen them, and, wicked as I was, felt ashamed.
I have seen two dozen capering about the room that way; some mere
children, the boys generally the youngest. * * * * There were no men or
women present. There were often fights. The deputy never interfered.
This is carried on just the same as ever to this day, and is the same
every night. I have heard young girls shout out to one another how
often they had been obliged to go to the hospital, or the infirmary,
or the workhouse. There was a great deal of boasting about what the
boys and girls had stolen during the day. I have known boys and girls
change their ‘partners,’ just for a night. At three years’ end I stole
a piece of beef from a butcher. I did it to get into prison. I was sick
of the life I was leading, and didn’t know how to get out of it. I had
a month for stealing. When I got out I passed two days and a night in
the streets doing nothing wrong, and then went and threatened to break
Messrs. ------ windows again. I did that to get into prison again;
for when I lay quiet of a night in prison I thought things over, and
considered what a shocking life I was leading, and how my health might
be ruined completely, and I thought I would stick to prison rather
than go back to such a life. I got six months for threatening. When I
got out I broke a lamp next morning for the same purpose, and had a
fortnight. That was the last time I was in prison. I have since been
leading the same life as I told you of for the three years, and lodging
at the same houses, and seeing the same goings on. I hate such a life
now more than ever. I am willing to do any work that I can in washing
and cleaning. I can do a little at my needle. I could do hard work,
for I have good health. I used to wash and clean in prison, and always
behaved myself there. At the house where I am it is 3_d._ a night; but
at Mrs. ----’s it is 1_d._ and 2_d._ a night, and just the same goings
on. Many a girl--nearly all of them--goes out into the streets from
this penny and twopenny house, to get money for their favourite boys by
prostitution. If the girl cannot get money she must steal something,
or will be beaten by her ‘chap’ when she comes home. I have seen them
beaten, often kicked and beaten until they were blind from bloodshot,
and their teeth knocked out with kicks from boots as the girl lays on
the ground. The boys, in their turn, are out thieving all day, and the
lodging-housekeeper will buy any stolen provisions of them, and sell
them to the lodgers. I never saw the police in the house. If a boy
comes to the house on a night without money or sawney, or something to
sell to the lodgers, a handkerchief or something of that kind, he is
not admitted, but told very plainly, ‘Go thieve it, then.’ Girls are
treated just the same. Any body may call in the daytime at this house
and have a halfpennyworth of coffee and sit any length of time until
evening. I have seen three dozen sitting there that way, all thieves
and bad girls. There are no chairs, and only one form in front of the
fire, on which a dozen can sit. The others sit on the floor all about
the room, as near the fire as they can. Bad language goes on during
the day, as I have told you it did during the night, and indecencies
too, but nothing like so bad as at night. They talk about where there
is good places to go and thieve. The missioners call sometimes, but
they’re laughed at often when they’re talking, and always before the
door’s closed on them. If a decent girl goes there to get a ha’porth
of coffee, seeing the board over the door, she is always shocked. Many
a poor girl has been ruined in this house since I was, and boys have
boasted about it. I never knew boy or girl do good, once get used
there. Get used there, indeed, and you are life-ruined. I was an only
child, and haven’t a friend in the world. I have heard several girls
say how they would like to get out of the life, and out of the place.
From those I know, I think that cruel parents and mistresses cause
many to be driven there. One lodging-house keeper, Mrs. ----, goes out
dressed respectable, and pawns any stolen property, or sells it at
public-houses.”
As a corroboration of the girl’s statement, a wretched-looking
boy, only thirteen years of age, gave me the following additional
information. He had a few rags hanging about him, and no shirt--indeed,
he was hardly covered enough for purposes of decency, his skin
being exposed through the rents in his jacket and trowsers. He had
a stepfather, who treated him very cruelly. The stepfather and the
child’s mother went “across the country,” begging and stealing. Before
the mother died, an elder brother ran away on account of being beaten:--
“Sometimes (I give his own words) he (the stepfather) wouldn’t give
us a bit to eat, telling us to go and thieve for it. My brother had
been a month gone (he’s now a soldier in Gibraltar) when I ran away to
join him. I knew where to find him, as we met sometimes. We lived by
thieving, and I do still--by pulling flesh (stealing meat). I got to
lodge at Mrs. ----, and have been there this eight months. I can read
and write a little.” [This boy then confirmed what the young girl had
told me of the grossest acts night by night among the boys and girls,
the language, &c., and continued]--“I always sleep on the floor for
1_d._ and pay a 1/2_d._ besides for coke. At this lodging-house cats
and kittens are melted down, sometimes twenty a day. A quart pot is
a cat, and pints and half pints are kittens. A kitten (pint) brings
3_d._ from the rag shops, and a cat 6_d._ There’s convenience to melt
them down at the lodging-house. We can’t sell clothes in the house,
except any lodger wants them; and clothes nearly all goes to the Jews
in Petticoat-lane. Mrs. ---- buys the sawney of us; so much for the
lump, 2_d._ a pound about; she sells it again for twice what she gives,
and more. Perhaps 30 lb. of meat every day is sold to her. I have been
in prison six times, and have had three dozen; each time I came out
harder. If I left Mrs. ----’s house I don’t know how I could get my
living. Lots of boys would get away if they could. I never drink, I
don’t like it. Very few of us boys drink. I don’t like thieving, and
often go about singing; but I can’t live by singing, and I don’t know
how I could live honestly. If I had money enough to buy a stock of
oranges I think I could be honest.”
The above facts require no comment from me.
STATEMENT OF A BEGGAR.
A beggar decently attired, and with a simple and what some would call
even a respectable look, gave me the following account:--