recollec’ when he’d heer’d on him, but he had, most sarten-ly. Didn’t
know when the world was made, or how anybody could do it. It must have
taken a long time. It was afore his time, “or yourn either, sir.” Knew
there was a book called the Bible; didn’t know what it was about;
didn’t mind to know; knew of such a book to a sartinty, because a young
’oman took one to pop (pawn) for an old ’oman what was on the spree--a
bran new ’un--but the cove wouldn’t have it, and the old ’oman said he
might be d----d. Never heer’d tell on the deluge; of the world having
been drownded; it couldn’t, for there wasn’t water enough to do it.
He weren’t a going to fret hisself for such things as that. Didn’t
know what happened to people after death, only that they was buried.
Had seen a dead body laid out; was a little afeared at first; poor
Dick looked so different, and when you touched his face, he was so
cold! oh, so cold! Had heer’d on another world; wouldn’t mind if he
was there hisself, if he could do better, for things was often queer
here. Had heered on it from a tailor--such a clever cove, a stunner--as
went to ’Straliar (Australia), and heer’d him say he was going into
another world. Had never heer’d of France, but had heer’d of Frenchmen;
there wasn’t half a quarter so many on ’em as of Italians, with their
earrings like flash gals. Didn’t dislike foreigners, for he never saw
none. What was they? Had heer’d of Ireland. Didn’t know where it was,
but it couldn’t be very far, or such lots wouldn’t come from there to
London. Should say they walked it, aye, every bit of the way, for he’d
seen them come in, all covered with dust. Had heer’d of people going
to sea, and had seen the ships in the river, but didn’t know nothing
about it, for he was very seldom that way. The sun was made of fire,
or it wouldn’t make you feel so warm. The stars was fire, too, or they
wouldn’t shine. They didn’t make it warm, they was too small. Didn’t
know any use they was of. Didn’t know how far they was off; a jolly
lot higher than the gas lights some on ’em was. Was never in a church;
had heer’d they worshipped God there; didn’t know how it was done; had
heer’d singing and playing inside when he’d passed; never was there,
for he had’nt no togs to go in, and wouldn’t be let in among such
swells as he had seen coming out. Was a ignorant chap, for he’d never
been to school, but was up to many a move, and didn’t do bad. Mother
said he would make his fortin yet.
Had heer’d of the Duke of Wellington; he was Old Nosey; didn’t think
he ever seed him, but had seed his statty. Hadn’t heer’d of the
battle of Waterloo, nor who it was atween; once lived in Webber-row,
Waterloo-road. Thought he had heerd speak of Buonaparte; didn’t know
what he was; thought he had heer’d of Shakespeare, but didn’t know
whether he was alive or dead, and didn’t care. A man with something
like that name kept a dolly and did stunning; but he was sich a hard
cove that if _he_ was dead it wouldn’t matter. Had seen the Queen,
but didn’t recollec’ her name just at the minute; oh! yes, Wictoria
and Albert. Had no notion what the Queen had to do. Should think she
hadn’t such power [he had first to ask me what ‘power’ was] as the Lord
Mayor, or as Mr. Norton as was the Lambeth beak, and perhaps is still.
Was never once before a beak and didn’t want to. Hated the crushers;
what business had they to interfere with him if he was only resting his
basket in a street? Had been once to the Wick, and once to the Bower:
liked tumbling better; he meant to have a little pleasure when the peas
came in.
The knowledge and the ignorance of these two striplings represent
that of street children generally. Those who may have run away from a
good school, or a better sort of home as far as means constitute such
betterness, of course form exceptions. So do the utterly stupid.
_The Morals, Religion, and Opinions of the street-trading children_ are
the next topic. Their business morals have been indicated in the course
of my former statements, and in the general tone of the remarks and
conversation of street-sellers.
As traders their morals may be lax enough. They give short weight, and
they give short measure; they prick the juice out of oranges; and brush
up old figs to declare they’re new. Their silk braces are cotton, their
buck-leather braces are wash-leather, their sponge is often rotten, and
their salves and cures quackeries.
Speak to any one of the quicker-witted street-sellers on the subject,
and though he may be unable to deny that his brother traders are
guilty of these short-comings, he will justify them all by the example
of shopkeepers. One man, especially, with whom I have more than once
conversed on the subject, broadly asserts that as a whole the streets
are in all matters of business honester than the shops. “It ain’t
_we_,” runs the purport of his remarks, “as makes coffee out of sham
chickory; it ain’t _we_ as makes cigars out of rhubarb leaves; _we_
don’t make duffers handkerchiefs, nor weave cotton things and call them
silk. If we quacks a bit, does _we_ make fortins by it as shopkeepers
does with their ointments and pills! If we give slang weights, how many
rich shopkeepers is fined for that there? And how many’s never found
out? And when one on ’em’s fined, why he calculates how much he’s into
pocket, between what he’s made by slanging, and what he’s been fined,
and on he goes again. _He_ didn’t know that there ever was short weight
given in his shop: not _he_! No more do _we_ at our stalls or barrows!
Who ’dulterates the beer? Who makes old tea-leaves into new? Who grinds
rice among pepper? And as for smuggling--but nobody thinks there’s any
harm in buying smuggled things. What _we_ does is like that pencil
you’re writing with to a great tree, compared to what the rich people
does. O, don’t tell me, sir, a gentleman like you that sees so much of
what’s going on, must know _we’re_ better than the shopkeepers are.”
To remarks such as these I have nothing to answer. It would be idle to
point out to such casuists, that the commission of one wrong can never
justify another. The ignorant reverse the doctrine of right, and live,
not by rule, but by example. I have unsparingly exposed the rogueries
and trickeries of the street people, and it is but fair that one of
them should be heard in explanation, if not in justification. The trade
ethics of the adult street-folk are also those of the juveniles, so on
this subject I need dwell no longer.
What I have said of the religion of the women street-sellers applies
with equal truth to the children. Their religious feelings are
generally formed for them by their parents, especially their mothers.
If the children have no such direction, then they have no religion. I
did not question the street-seller before quoted on this subject of the
want of the Christian spirit among his fraternity, old or young, or he
would at once have asked me, in substance, to tell him in what class of
society the real Christian spirit was to be found?
As to the opinions of the street-children I can say little. For the
most part they have formed no opinions of anything beyond what affects
their daily struggles for bread. Of politics such children can know
nothing. If they are anything, they are Chartists in feeling, and
are in general honest haters of the police and of most constituted
authorities, whom they often confound with the police officer. As
to their opinions of the claims of friendship, and of the duty of
assisting one another, I believe these children feel and understand
nothing about such matters. The hard struggles of their lives, and
the little sympathy they meet with, make them selfish. There may be
companionship among them, but no friendship, and this applies, I think,
alike to boys and girls. The boy’s opinion of the girl seems to be that
she is made to help _him_, or to supply gratification to his passions.
There is yet a difficult inquiry,--as to the opinions which are
formed by the young females reared to a street-life. I fear that
those opinions are not, and cannot be powerfully swayed in favour of
chastity, especially if the street-girl have the quickness to perceive
that marriage is not much honoured among the most numerous body of
street-folk. If she have not the quickness to understand this, then her
ignorance is in itself most dangerous to her virtue. She may hear, too,
expressions of an opinion that “going to church to be wed” is only to
put money into the clergyman’s, or as these people say the “parson’s,”
pocket. Without the watchful care of the mother, the poor girl may form
an illicit connection, with little or no knowledge that she is doing
wrong; and perhaps a kind and indulgent mother may be herself but a
concubine, feeling little respect for a ceremony she did not scruple
to dispense with. To such opinions, however, the Irish furnish the
exception.
* * * * *
_The Dwelling-places of the street-children_ are in the same localities
as I specified regarding the women. Those who reside with their
parents or employers sleep usually in the same room with them, and
sometimes in the same bed. Nearly the whole of those, however, who
support themselves by street-trade live, or rather sleep, in the
lodging-houses. It is the same with those who live by street-vagrancy
or begging, or by street-theft; and for this lazy or dishonest class
of children the worst description of lodging-houses have the strongest
attractions, as they meet continually with “tramps” from the country,
and keep up a constant current of scheming and excitement.
It seems somewhat curious that, considering the filth and noisomeness
of some of these lodging-houses, the children who are inmates suffer
only the average extent of sickness and mortality common to the
districts crammed with the poor. Perhaps it may be accounted for by
the circumstance of their being early risers, and their being in the
open air all day, so that they are fatigued at the close of the day,
and their sleep is deep and unbroken. I was assured by a well-educated
man, who was compelled to resort to such places, that he has seen
children sleep most profoundly in a lodging-house throughout a loud and
long-continued disturbance. Many street-children who are either “alone
in the world,” or afraid to return home after a bad day’s sale, sleep
in the markets or under the dry arches.
There are many other lads who, being unable to pay the 1_d._, 2_d._, or
3_d._ demanded, in pre-payment, by the lodging-house keepers, pass the
night in the streets, wherever shelter may be attainable. The number of
outcast boys and girls who sleep in and about the purlieus of Covent
Garden-market each night, especially during the summer months, has been
computed variously, and no doubt differs according to circumstances;
but those with whom I have spoken upon the subject, and who of all
others are most likely to know, consider the average to be upwards of
200.
* * * * *
_The Diet of the street-children_ is in some cases an alternation of
surfeit and inanition, more especially that of the stripling who is
“on his own hook.” If money be unexpectedly attained, a boy will gorge
himself with such dainties as he loves; if he earn no money, he will
fast all day patiently enough, perhaps drinking profusely of water.
A cake-seller told me that a little while before I saw him a lad of
twelve or so had consumed a shilling’s worth of cakes and pastry, as
he had got a shilling by “fiddling;” not, be it understood, by the
exercise of any musical skill, for “fiddling,” among the initiated,
means the holding of horses, or the performing of any odd jobs.
Of these cakes and pastry--the cakes being from two to twelve a penny,
and the pastry, tarts, and “Coventrys” (three-cornered tarts) two a
penny--the street-urchins are very fond. To me they seemed to possess
no recommendation either to the nose or the palate. The “strong”
flavour of these preparations is in all probability as grateful to the
palate of an itinerant youth, as is the high _gout_ of the grouse or
the woodcock to the fashionable epicure. In this respect, as in others
which I have pointed out, the “extremes” of society “meet.”
These remarks apply far more to the male than to the female children.
Some of the street-boys will walk a considerable distance, when
they are in funds, to buy pastry of the Jew-boys in the Minories,
Houndsditch, and Whitechapel; those keen traders being reputed, and no
doubt with truth, to supply the best cakes and pastry of any.
A more staple article of diet, which yet partakes of the character
of a dainty, is in great demand by the class I treat of--pudding. A
halfpenny or a penny-worth of baked plum, boiled plum (or plum dough),
currant or plum batter (batter-pudding studded with raisins), is
often a dinner. This pudding is almost always bought in the shops;
indeed, in a street apparatus there could hardly be the necessary heat
diffused over the surface required; and as I have told of a distance
being travelled to buy pastry of the Jew-boys, so is it traversed to
buy pudding at the best shops. The proprietor of one of those shops,
upon whom I called to make inquiries, told me that he sold about
300 pennyworths of pudding in a day. Two-thirds of this quantity he
sold to juveniles under fifteen years of age; but he hadn’t noticed
particularly, and so could only guess. This man, when he understood
the object of my inquiry, insisted upon my tasting his “batter,” which
really was very good, and tasted--I do not know how otherwise to
describe it--honest. His profits were not large, he said, and judging
from the size and quality of his oblong halfpenny and pennyworth’s of
batter pudding, I have no doubt he stated the fact. “There’s many a
poor man and woman,” he said, “aye, sir, and some that you would think
from their appearance might go to an eating-house to dine, make a meal
off my pudding, as well as the street little ones. The boys are often
tiresome: ‘Master,’ they’ll say, ‘can’t you give us a plummier bit than
this?’ or, ‘Is it just up? I likes it ’ot, all ’ot.’”
The “baked tatur,” from the street-dealer’s can more frequently than
from the shops, is another enjoyable portion of the street child’s
diet. Of the sale to the juvenile population of pickled whelks, stewed
eels, oysters, boiled meat puddings, and other articles of street
traffic, I have spoken under their respective heads.
The Irish children who live with their parents fare as the parents
fare. If very poor, or if bent upon saving for some purpose, their diet
is tea and bread and butter, or bread without butter. If not so _very_
poor, still tea, &c., but sometimes with a little fish, and sometimes
with a piece of meat on Sundays; but the Sunday’s meat is more common
among the poor English than the poor Irish street-traders; indeed the
English street-traders generally “live better” than the Irish. The
coster-boys often fare well and abundantly.
The children living in the lodging-houses, I am informed, generally,
partake only of such meals as they can procure abroad. Sometimes of
a night they may partake of the cheap beef or mutton, purveyed by
some inmate who has been “lifting flesh” (stealing meat) or “sawney”
(bacon). Vegetables, excepting the baked potato, they rarely taste. Of
animal food, perhaps, they partake more of bacon, and relish it the
most.
Drinking is not, from what I can learn, common among the street boys.
The thieves are generally sober fellows, and of the others, when they
are “in luck,” a half-pint of beer, to relish the bread and saveloy of
the dinner, and a pennyworth of gin “to keep the cold out,” are often
the extent of the potations. The exceptions are among the ignorant
coster-lads, who when they have been prosperous in their “bunse,”
drink, and ape the vices of men. The girls, I am told, are generally
fonder of gin than the boys. Elderwine and gingerbeer are less popular
among children than they used to be. Many of the lads smoke.
* * * * *
_The Amusements of the street-children_ are such as I have described
in my account of the costermongers, but in a moderate degree, as those
who partake with the greatest zest of such amusements as the Penny
Gaff (penny theatre) and the Twopenny Hop (dance) are more advanced
in years. Many of the Penny Gaffs, however, since I last wrote on the
subject, have been suppressed, and the Twopenny Hops are not half
so frequent as they were five or six years back. The Jew-boys of
the streets play at draughts or dominoes in coffee-shops which they
frequent; in one in the London-road at which I had occasion to call
were eight of these urchins thus occupied; and they play for money or
its equivalent, but these sedentary games obtain little among the other
and more restless street-lads. I believe that not one-half of them
“know the cards,” but they are fond of gambling at pitch and toss, for
halfpennies or farthings.
* * * * *
_The Clothing of the street-children_, however it may vary in texture,
fashion, and colour, has one pervading characteristic--it is never
made for the wearers. The exceptions to this rule seem to be those,
when a child has run away and retains, through good fortune or natural
acuteness, the superior attire he wore before he made the choice--if
choice he had--of a street life; and where the pride of a mother whose
costermonger husband is “getting on,” clothes little Jack or Bill in
a new Sunday suit. Even then the suit is more likely to be bought
ready-made than “made to measure,” nor is it worn in business hours
until the gloss of novelty has departed.
The boys and girls wear every variety of clothing; it is often begged,
but if bought is bought from the fusty stocks of old clothes in
Petticoat and Rosemary-lanes. These rags are worn by the children as
long as they will hold, or can be tied or pinned together, and when
they drop off from continued wear, from dirt, and from the ravages of
vermin, the child sets his wits to work to procure more. One mode of
obtaining a fresh supply is far less available than it was three or
four years back. This was for the lads to denude themselves of their
rags, and tearing them up in the casual-ward of a workhouse, as it were
compel the parish-officers to provide them with fresh apparel.
This mode may be successful in parts of the country still, but it is
not so, or to a very limited extent, in town. The largest, and what was
accounted by the vagrants the most liberal, of all the casual wards
of the metropolitan workhouses, that of Marylebone, has been closed
above two years. So numerous were the applicants for admission, and
so popular among the vagrants was Marylebone workhouse, that a fever
resulted, and attacked that large establishment. It was not uncommon
for the Irish who trudged up from Liverpool, to be advised by some
London vagrant whom they met, to go at once, when they reached the
capital, to Marylebone workhouse, and that the Irishman might not
forget a name that was new to him, his friendly adviser would write it
down for him, and a troop of poor wretched Irish children, with parents
as wretched, would go to Marylebone workhouse, and in their ignorance
or simplicity, present the address which had been given to them, as if
it were a regular order for admission! Boys have sometimes committed
offences that they might get into prison, and as they contrived that
their apparel should be unfit for purposes of decency, or perhaps
their rags had become unfit to wear, they could not be sent naked into
the streets again, and so had clothing given to them. A shirt will
be worn by one of those wretched urchins, without washing, until it
falls asunder, and many have no shirts. The girls are on the whole
less ragged than the boys, the most disgusting parts of their persons
or apparel--I speak here more of the vagrant or the mixed vagrant
trading and selling girl (often a child prostitute) than of the regular
street-seller--the worst particular of these girls’ appearance, I
repeat, is in their foul and matted hair, which looks as if it would
defy sponge, comb, and brush to purify it, and in the broken and filthy
boots and stockings, which they seem never to button or to garter.
* * * * *
_The Propensities of the street-children_ are the last division of my
inquiry, and an ample field is presented, alike for wonder, disgust,
pity, hope, and regret.
Perhaps the most remarkable characteristic of these wretched children
is their extraordinary licentiousness. Nothing can well exceed the
extreme animal fondness for the opposite sex which prevails amongst
them; some rather singular circumstances connected with this subject
have come to my knowledge, and from these facts it would appear that
the age of puberty, or something closely resembling it, may be attained
at a much less numerical amount of years than that at which most
writers upon the human species have hitherto fixed it. Probably such
circumstances as the promiscuous sleeping together of both sexes, the
example of the older persons indulging in the grossest immorality in
the presence of the young, and the use of obscene expressions, may
tend to produce or force an unnatural precocity, a precocity sure to
undermine health and shorten life. Jealousy is another characteristic
of these children, and perhaps less among the girls than the boys. Upon
the most trivial offence in this respect, or on the suspicion of an
offence, the “gals” are sure to be beaten cruelly and savagely by their
“chaps.” This appears to be a very common case.
The details of filthiness and of all uncleanness which I gave in a
recent number as things of course in certain lodging-houses, render it
unnecessary to dwell longer upon the subject, and it is one from which
I willingly turn to other matters.
In addition to the licentious, the vagabond propensities of this class
are very striking. As soon as the warm weather commences, boys and
girls, but more especially boys, leave the town in shoals, traversing
the country in every direction; some furnished with trifling articles
(such as I have already enumerated) to sell, and others to begging,
lurking, or thieving. It is not the street-sellers who so much resort
to the tramp, as those who are devoid of the commonest notions of
honesty; a quality these young vagrants sometimes respect when in fear
of a gaol, and the hard work with which such a place is identified in
their minds--and to which, with the peculiar idiosyncrasy of a roving
race, they have an insuperable objection.
I have met with boys and girls, however, to whom a gaol had no terrors,
and to whom, when in prison, there was only one dread, and that a
common one among the ignorant, whether with or without any sense of
religion--superstition. “I lay in prison of a night, sir,” said a
boy who was generally among the briskest of his class, “and think I
shall see things.” The “things” represent the vague fears which many,
not naturally stupid, but untaught or ill-taught persons, entertain
in the dark. A girl, a perfect termagant in the breaking of windows
and such like offences, told me something of the same kind. She spoke
well of the treatment she experienced in prison, and seemed to have a
liking for the matron and officials; her conduct there was quiet and
respectful. I believe she was not addicted to drink.
Many of the girls, as well as the boys, of course trade as they
“tramp.” They often sell, both in the country and in town, little
necklaces, composed of red berries strung together upon thick thread,
for dolls and children: but although I have asked several of them,
I have never yet found one who collected the berries and made the
necklaces themselves; neither have I met with a single instance in
which the girl vendors knew the name of the berries thus used, nor
indeed even that they _were_ berries. The invariable reply to my
questions upon this point has been that they “are called necklaces;”
that “they are just as they sells ’em to us;” that they “don’t know
whether they are made or whether they grow;” and in most cases, that
they “gets them in London, by Shoreditch;” although in one case a
little brown-complexioned girl, with bright sparkling eyes, said that
“she got them from the gipsies.” At first I fancied, from this child’s
appearance, that she was rather superior in intellect to most of her
class; but I soon found that she was not a whit above the others,
unless, indeed, it were in the possession of the quality of cunning.
Some of the boys, on their country excursions, trade in dominoes.
They carry a variety of boxes, each differing in size and varying
accordingly in price: the lowest-priced boxes are mostly 6_d._ each
(sometimes 4_d._, or even 3_d._), the highest 1_s._ An informant told
me that these boxes are charged to him at the rate of 20 to 25 per
cent. less; but if, as is commonly the case, he could take a number
at a time, he would have them at a smaller price still. They are very
rudely made, and soon fall to pieces, unless handled with extreme care.
Most of the boys who vend this article play at the game themselves, and
with some skill; but in every case, I believe, there is a willingness
to cheat, or take advantage, which is hardly disguised; one boy told me
candidly that those who make the most money are considered to be the
cleverest, whether by selling or cheating, or both, at the game; nor
can it be said that this estimation of cleverness is peculiar to these
children.