ones are more restless and suspicious in their movements. They
sometimes go into first and second class waiting-rooms and sit by the
side of any lady they suppose to be possessed of a sum of money, and
try to pick her pocket by inserting their hand, or by cutting it with
a knife or other sharp instrument. They generally insert the whole
hand, as the ladies’ pockets are frequently deep in the dress. They
often have a large cape to cover their hands, and pick the pocket while
speaking to the lady, or sitting by her side. The young pickpockets are
generally the most expert.
They seldom take the brooch from the breast, but confine themselves to
picking pockets.
After they take the purse, they generally run to some by-place and
throw it away, so that it cannot be identified; sometimes they put it
into a watercloset, at other times drop it down an area as they pass
along.
After taking the purse, the thief hands it to her companion, and they
separate and walk away, and meet at some place appointed.
They occasionally travel with the trains to the Crystal Palace
and other places in the neighbourhood of London, and endeavour to
plunder the passengers on the way. Frequently they take longer
excursions--especially during the summer--journeying from town to town,
and going to races and markets, agricultural shows, or any places where
there is a large concourse of people. Unless they are detected at the
time they pick the pocket, they seldom leave any suspicion behind them,
as they take care to lodge in respectable places, where no one would
suspect them, and have generally plenty of money.
A considerable number of the male thieves also attend the railway
stations, and pick pockets in the railway trains. They are generally
well dressed, and many of them have an Inverness cape, often of a dark
colour, and sometimes they carry a coat on their arm to hide their
hand. There are commonly two or more of them together--sometimes women
accompanying them. They are the same parties we have already so fully
described, who commit such felonies in the streets, thoroughfares, and
places of public resort in the metropolis, and their movements are in a
great measure the same.
Number of felonies by picking pockets
in the Metropolitan dists. for 1860 1,498
Ditto, ditto, in the City 380
-----
1,878
Value of property thereby abstracted in
the Metropolitan districts £5,819
Ditto, ditto, in the City 375
------
£6,194
SHOPLIFTERS.
There is a class of women who visit the shops in various parts of the
metropolis, sometimes two and at other times three together. They
vary their dress according to the locality they visit. Sometimes you
find them dressed very respectably, like the wives of people in good
circumstances in life; at other times, they appear like servants. They
often wear large cloaks, or shawls, and are to be found of different
ages, from 14 to 60. They generally call into shops at busy times, when
there are many persons standing around the counter, and will stand
two or three together. They ask a look of certain articles, and will
possibly say, after they have inspected them, that they do not suit
them; they will say they are too high in price, or not the article
they want, or not the proper colour. They will likely ask to see some
other goods, and keep looking at the different articles until they get
a quantity on the counter. When the shopman is engaged getting some
fresh goods from the window, or from the shelves, one of them generally
contrives to slip something under her cloak or shawl, while the other
manages to keep his attention abstracted. Sometimes they carry a bag
or a basket, and set it down on the counter, and while the shopman is
busy, they will get some article and lay it down behind their basket,
such as a roll of ribbons, or a half dozen of gloves, or other small
portable goods. While the shopman’s back is turned, or his attention
withdrawn, it is hidden under their shawl or cloak. We frequently find
the skirt of their dress lined from the pocket downward, forming a
large repository all around the dress, with an opening in front, where
they can insert a small article, which is not observed in the ample
crinoline. In stealing rolls of silk, or other heavier goods, they
conceal them under their arm. Women who engage in shoplifting sometimes
pick pockets in the shops. They get by the side of a lady engaged
looking over articles, and under pretence of inspecting goods in the
one hand, pick their pockets with the other.
We find more of these people living in the east end and on the Surrey
side than in the west end of the metropolis. A great many live in the
neighbourhood of Kingsland Road and Hackney Road. Some of them cohabit
with burglars, others with magsmen (skittle-sharps).
We find ladies in respectable position occasionally charged with
shoplifting.
Respectably dressed men frequently go into the shops of drapers
and others early in the morning, or at intervals during the day, or
evening, to look at the goods, and often manage to abstract one or two
articles, and secrete them under their coats. They frequently take a
bundle of neckties, a parcel of gloves, or anything that will go in a
small compass, and perhaps enter a jeweller’s shop, and in this way
abstract a quantity of jewellery. On going there, they will ask a sight
of some articles; the first will not suit them, and they will ask to
look at more. When the shopman is engaged, they will abstract some gold
rings or gold pins, or other property, sometimes a watch. Occasionally
they will go so far as to leave a deposit on the article, promising to
call again. They do this to prevent suspicion. After they are gone, the
shopman may find several valuables missing.
Sometimes they will ring the changes. On entering the shop they will
bring patterns of rings and other articles in the window, which they
have got made as facsimiles from metal of an inferior quality. On
looking at the jewellery they will ring the changes on the counter, and
keep turning them over, and in so doing abstract the genuine article
and leave the counterfeit in its place.
The statistics applicable to this class of felonies are comprised under
those given when treating on “stealing from the doors and windows of
shops.”
A VISIT TO THE DENS OF THIEVES IN SPITALFIELDS AND ITS NEIGHBOURHOOD.
One afternoon, in company with a detective officer, we visited
Spitalfields, one of the most notorious rookeries for infamous
characters in the metropolis. Leaving Whitechapel, we went up a narrow
alley called George Yard, where we saw four brothels of a very low
description, the inmates being common thieves. On proceeding a little
farther along the alley we passed eight or nine lodging-houses. Most
of the lodgers were out prowling over the various districts of the
metropolis, some picking pockets, others area-sneaking.
On entering into a public-house in another alley near Union Street, we
came to one of the most dangerous thieves’ dens we have visited in the
course of our rambles. As we approached the door of the house, we saw
a dissipated looking man stealthily whispering outside the door to the
ruffian-looking landlord, who appeared to be a fighting man, from his
large coarse head and broken nose. The officer by our side hinted to
us that the latter was a fence, or receiver of stolen property, and
was probably speaking to his companion on some business of this nature.
As we went forward they sneaked away, the one through a neighbouring
archway, and the other into his house. We followed the latter into the
public house, and found two or three brutal-looking men loafing about
the bar. We passed through a small yard behind the house, where we
found a number of fighting dogs chained to their kennels. Some were
close to our feet as we passed along, and others, kept in an outhouse
beside them, could almost snap at our face. We went to another outhouse
beyond, where between thirty and forty persons were assembled round
a wooden enclosure looking on, while some of their dogs were killing
rats. They consisted of burglars, pickpockets, and the associates of
thieves, along with one or two receivers of stolen property. Many of
them were coarse and brutal in their appearance, and appeared to be
in their element, as they urged on their dogs to destroy the rats,
which were taken out one after another from a small wooden box. These
men apparently ranged from twenty-two to forty years of age. Many of
them had the rough stamp of the criminal in their countenances, and
when inflamed with strong drink, would possibly be fit for any deed
of atrocious villainy. Some of the dogs were strong and vigorous, and
soon disposed of the rats as they ran round the wooden enclosure,
surrounded by this redoubtable band of ruffians, who made the rafters
ring with merriment when the dog caught hold of his prey, or when the
rat turned desperate on its adversary. During the brief space of time
we were present, a slim little half-starved dog killed several rats.
When the rat was first let loose it was very nimble and vigorous in its
movements, and the little dog kept for a time at a respectful distance,
as the former was ready to snap at it. Sometimes the rat made as though
it was to leap over the wooden fence to get away from the dog, but a
dozen rough hands were ready to thrust it back. After it had got nearly
exhausted with its ineffectual struggles to get away, the little dog
seized it by the throat and worried it; when another rat was brought
out to take its place, and another dog introduced to this brutal sport.
This is one of the most dangerous thieves’ dens we have seen in London.
Were any unfortunate man to be inveigled into it in the evening, or at
midnight, when the desperadoes who haunt it are inflamed with strong
drink, he would be completely in their power, even were he the bravest
soldier in the British service, and armed with a revolver. Were he
to fight his way desperately through the large ferocious gang in this
outhouse, the fighting-dogs in the yard might be let loose on him, and
were he to cleave his way through them, he would have to pass through
the public-house frequented by similar low characters.
Leaving this alley, we proceeded to Fashion Street, and entered a
skittle-ground attached to a low beershop, where we saw another gang of
thieves, to the number of about twelve. Some of them, though in rough
costermonger’s dress, or in the dress of mechanics, are fashionable
pickpockets, along with thieves of a coarser and lower description,
who push against people in crowds, and snatch away their watches and
property. One of them, a tall athletic young man, was pointed out
to us as a very expert pickpocket. He was dressed in a dark frock
coat, dark trousers and cap, and was busy hurling the skittleball
with great violence. On our standing by for a little, he slouched
his cap sulkily over his eyes and continued at his game. He had an
intelligent countenance, but with a callous, bronze-like forbidding
expression. Some of his companions were standing at the other end of
the skittle-ground engaged in the sport, while the rest of his “pals”
sat on a seat alongside and looked on, occasionally eyeing us with
considerable curiosity. Some of them were very expert thieves.
In passing through Church Lane we met two young lads dressed like
costermongers, and a young woman by their side in a light dirty
cotton dress and black bonnet. They were pointed out to us as those
base creatures who waylay, decoy, and plunder drunken men at night.
We proceeded to Wentworth Street, and entered a large lodging-house
of a very motley class of people, consisting of men working at the
docks, prostitutes, and area-sneaks. We called at a house in George
Street, principally occupied by females from eighteen to thirty years
of age, all prostitutes. In Thrall Street we entered a lodging-house
where we saw about thirty persons of both sexes, and of different
ages, assembled, consisting chiefly of area-sneaks and pickpockets.
Here we saw one prostitute, with a remarkably beautiful child on her
knee, seated at her afternoon meal. In the tap-room of a public-house
in Church Street we found a large party of thieves, consisting of
burglars, pickpockets, and area-sneaks, along with several resetters,
one of them a Jew. On the walls of the room were pictures of notorious
pugilists, Tom Cribb and others. Several of them had the appearance
of pugilists, in their bloated and bruised countenances, and most of
them had a rough aspect, which we found to be a general characteristic
of the Whitechapel thieves, as well as of most of the thieves we saw
in the Borough, and at Lambeth. Two of the resetters, who appeared to
be callous, politic men, sneaked off upon our seating ourselves beside
them. One of the band, as we found on similar occasions, stood between
us and the door flourishing a large clasp knife. We sat for some time
over a glass of ale, and he slunk off to a corner and resumed his seat,
finding his bullying attitude was of no avail. The Jewish resetter was
very social and communicative as he sat on the table. The more daring
of the band were also frank and good-humoured.
Being desirous to gain a more intimate acquaintance with the haunts of
the London thieves, we were brought into communication with Mr. Price,
inspector of the lodging-houses of this district, who accompanied us on
several visits over the neighbourhood, one of the chief rookeries of
thieves in London.
Before setting out on our inspection he gave us the following
information:--
About twenty years ago a number of narrow streets, thickly populated
with thieves, prostitutes, and beggars, were removed when New
Commercial Street was formed, leading from Shoreditch in the direction
of the London Docks, leaving a wide space in the midst of a densely
populated neighbourhood, which is favourable to its sanatory condition,
and might justly be considered one of the lungs of the metropolis.
The rookery in Spitalfields we purposed to visit is comprised within
a space of about 400 square yards. It is bounded by Church Street
Whitechapel, East Brick Lane, and West Commercial Street, and contains
800 thieves, vagabonds, beggars, and prostitutes, a large proportion of
whom may be traced to the old criminal inhabitants of the now extinct
Essex Street and old Rose Lane.
For instance, a man and woman lived for many years in George Yard,
Whitechapel, a narrow, dirty, and overcrowded street leading from
Whitechapel into Wentworth Street. The man was usually seen among
crowds of thieves, gambling and associating with them. As his family
increased, in the course of time he took a beershop and lodging-house
for thieves in Thrall Street. His family consisted of three boys and
three girls. His wife usually addressed the young thieves as they left
her lodging-house in the morning, in the hearing of her own children,
in this manner; “Now, my little dears, do the best you can, and may God
bless you!”
The following is a brief account of their children:--
The eldest son married a girl whose father died during his
transportation. He and his wife gained their living by thieving, and
were frequently in custody. At last he connected himself with burglars,
was tried, convicted, and sentenced to six years’ penal servitude. He
is now at Gibraltar, ten months of his sentence being unexpired. His
wife has been left with three young children; since his transportation
she has been frequently in custody for robbing drunken men, and has
had an illegitimate child since her husband left. Her eldest daughter
was taken from her about twelve months ago by Mr. Ashcroft, secretary
of the Refuge Aid Society, and placed in a refuge in Albert Street,
Mile End New Town, where the Society maintains her. The girl is eleven
years of age, and appeared pleased that she was taken away from her
filthy abode and bad companions in George Street. The second son has
been repeatedly in custody for uttering base coin, and was at last
convicted and transported for four years. The eldest daughter married a
man, who also was transported, and is now a returned convict. She was
apprehended, convicted, and sentenced to four years’ penal servitude.
While in Newgate jail, she was delivered of twins, and received a
reprieve, and has since been in custody for shoplifting.
We went with the inspector to Lower Keat Street, and entered a
lodging-house there. Most of the inmates were male thieves, from twelve
to nineteen years of age and upwards. The husband of the woman who
keeps the house is a returned convict, and has been in custody for
receiving stolen property from her lodgers.
We entered another lodging-house in this street, haunted by thieves
of a lower class. An old woman was here employed as a deputy or
servant, who formerly lived in Kent-street in the Borough, and kept a
public-house there, a resort of thieves. She lived with a man there
for twenty years and upwards, keeping a brothel, and was then and is
now an old fence. We found a number of low thieves in the house at the
time of our visit. The landlord has been in custody for having stolen
handkerchiefs in his possession, with the marks taken out.
Opposite to this house is a public-house resorted to by thieves.
We then went to Lower George Street, where we entered a registered
lodging-house. In three rooms we saw about ninety persons of both sexes
and of various ages, many of them thieves and vagrants. This house is
not used as a brothel, but some of the lodgers cohabit together as man
and wife, which is common in these low neighbourhoods.
We went to a lodging-house in Flower-and-Dean Street, the keeper of
which has been recently in prison for receiving from his lodgers. We
saw a number of wretched mendicants here. One man had his leg bound up
with rags. Many of the inmates gain their livelihood by begging, and
others by thieving. Few honest persons reside here.
We next went to a brothel in Wentworth Street, kept by a woman, a
notorious character. She has been repeatedly in custody for robbing
drunken men, and her husband is now in prison for felony. She is a
strong coarse-looking woman, with her countenance bearing marked
traces of unbridled passion,--the type of person we would expect as
the keeper of a low brothel. She had been stabbed on the cheek a few
days previously by another woman, and bore the scar of the fresh wound
at the time of our visit. The rooms of her house were wretchedly
furnished, suitable to the low orgies transacted in this foul abode.
One or two withered prostitutes were lounging about the kitchen.
We passed on to a lodging-house of a very different description,
occupied by industrious honest working people, which we shall describe
afterwards when we treat of an after-visit.
In this locality we visited the elderly woman living in this
neighbourhood whom we have referred to as having blessed the young
thieves. She had a very plausible condoling manner, as she sat with
her two daughters by her side--one a young auburn-haired girl of about
fourteen, with engaging countenance and handsome form, plainly but
neatly dressed; the other, an ordinary-looking young woman, with a
child in her arms.
We made another visit to this rookery with the inspector of police, and
made a more minute survey of this remarkable district.
We went into a lodging-house in George Yard. The kitchen was about
35 feet in length, and had originally consisted of two rooms, the
partition between them being removed. There was a fire-place in each; a
group of people, men, lads, and boys were ranged along the long tables,
many of them labourers at the docks.
The boys were better dressed than the wild young Arabs of the city,
some of them in dark and brown coats and tartan and black caps. They
sat on the forms along the sides of the tables, or lolled on seats by
the fire. The apartments were papered, and ornamented with pictures.
A picture of the Great Eastern steamship set in a frame was suspended
over the mantelpiece; one boy sat with his head bound up, and another
with his jacket off, and his white shirt sleeves exposed. The inmates
consisted of beggars and dock-labourers seated around the ample
kitchen, some busy at their different meals, and others engaged in
conversation, which was suspended on our entrance. At the door we saw
the deputy, a young man decently dressed. On our former visit we saw
an old man with an ample unshorn beard, who works during the day as a
crossing-sweeper. He had when young been engaged in seafaring life, and
has now become an admirable picture of Fagin the Jew, as pictured by
Charles Dickens. The beds are let here at 3_d._ a night. The people who
usually lodge here are crossing-sweepers, bonepickers, and shoeblacks,
&c.
We entered a house in Wentworth Street, and passed through a chandler’s
shop into the kitchen, which is about 31 feet in length and 15 in
breadth. There we found, as is usual in those lodging houses, a large
fire blazing in the grate. The room had a wooden floor, and clothes
were suspended on lines beneath the rafters. There were two large
boilers on each side of the fire to supply the lodgers with hot water
for coffee or tea. Tables were ranged around the wall on each side, and
a motley company were seated around them. Numbers of them were busy at
supper--coffee, bread, fish, and potatoes. An elderly man sat in the
corner of the room cobbling a pair of old shoes with a candle nearly
burned to the socket placed before him. Groups of elderly women were
also clustered around the benches, some plainly but decently dressed,
others in dirty tattered skirts and shabby shawls, with careworn,
melancholy countenances. Some were middle-aged women, apparently the
wives of some of the labourers there. A young man sat by their side, a
respectable mechanic out of work.
Two young lads, vagrants, sat squatted by the fire, one of them
equipped in dirty tartan trowsers, a shabby black frock-coat sadly
torn, and brown bonnet. The other sat in his moleskin trowsers and
shirt. At one of the tables several young women were seated at their
tea, some good-looking, others very plain, with coarse features. An
elderly woman, the servant of the establishment, stood by the fire with
a towel over her bare brown arm.
The tables around were covered with plates, cups, and other crockery;
caps, jackets, and other articles of dress.
While in this street the musical band of the ragged school at George
Yard passed by, with the teacher at their head, and many of the
scholars clustered around them, with other juveniles and people of the
district. Knots of people were assembled in the streets as we passed
along.
We entered several other lodging-houses in this locality, occupied by
beggars, dock-labourers, prostitutes, and thieves, ballad-singers, and
patterers of the lowest class.
We went into a house in George Street. The kitchen was also very large,
about 36 feet long and 24 feet broad, and had two blazing fires to warm
the apartment and cook the food. Tables were ranged round the room as
in the other lodging-houses alluded to. There were about twenty-two
people here, chiefly young of both sexes. There was one middle-aged
bald-headed man among them. Many of them were sad and miserable. A
young good-looking girl, not apparently above seventeen years of age,
sat by the fire with a child in her arms. Many of the young women had a
lowering countenance and dissipated look. Some of the young lads had a
more pleasing appearance, dressed as costermongers.
The long tables were strewed with plates and bowls, cups and saucers.
Some young men sat by reading the newspapers, others smoking their pipe
and whiffing clouds of smoke around them. Some young women were sewing,
others knitting; some busy at their supper, others lying asleep,
crouching with their arms on the tables.
On going into another lodging-house we saw a number of people of both
sexes, and of various ages, similar to those described. There we saw
a woman about thirty, also engaged knitting, and another reading
Reynolds’ Miscellany. A number of young lads of about seventeen years
were smoking their pipe; another youth, a pickpocket, was reading a
volume he had got from a neighbouring library. Most of the persons here
were prostitutes, pickpockets, and sneaks. There were about fifteen
present, chiefly young people.