Passing through a group of young women who stood at the doorway, we
went downstairs to an apartment below and saw about a dozen of young
lads and girls seated around a table at a game of cards. One of these
youths was a notorious pickpocket, though young in years, and had twice
escaped out of Horsemonger Lane gaol. We were informed there was not a
fourth of the persons present who usually frequent the house. After the
first panic was over the young people resumed their game, some looking
slyly at us, as if not altogether sure of our object. Others were lying
extended on the benches along the side of the room. As we were looking
on this curious scene the women in the flat above had followed us down
and were peering from the staircase into the apartment to try and learn
the object of our visit. As we left the house we took a glance over our
shoulder and saw them standing at the door, following our movements.
We bent our steps to Kent Street and entered a beershop there. There
were a number of thieves and “smashers” (utterers of base coin)
hovering round the bar. The “smashers” were ordinary-looking men and
women of the lower orders. We saw a party of thieves in the adjoining
tap-room, and seated ourselves for a short time among them. One of them
was a dexterous swell-mobsman, who has been several times convicted
and imprisoned. A dark-complexioned little man, about twenty-one years
of age, an utterer of base coin, was lounging in the seat beside us.
The swell-mobsman was evidently the leading man among them. He was a
good-looking fair-haired youth, about twenty years of age, smart and
decided in his movements, and with a good appearance, very unlike
a criminal. He occasionally dresses in high style, in a superfine
black suit, with white hat and crape, and occasionally drives out in
fashionable vehicles.
We also visited Market Street, a narrow by-street off the Borough
Road, a well-known rookery of prostitutes. A great number of simple,
thoughtless young girls, from various parts of London and the country,
leave their homes and settle down here and live on prostitution. Here
we saw an organist performing in the street, surrounded by a dense
crowd of young prostitutes, middle-aged women, and children of the
lower class. Two young women, one with her face painted, and the other
a slender girl about seventeen, with an old crownless straw bonnet on
her head, and with the crown of it in one hand, and a stick in the
other, were dancing in wild frolic to the strains of the organ, amid
the merriment of the surrounding crowd, and to the evident amazement of
the poor minstrel, while other rough-looking young dames were skipping
gaily along the street.
In a brothel in this street an atrocious crime was perpetrated a few
days ago by George Philips, a young miscreant, termed the Jew-boy, who
resided there. A sailor, recently returned from India, happened to
enter this foul den. The inmates consisted of the Jew-boy’s sister,
a common prostitute, who cohabited with Richard Pitts, a well-known
burglar, recently sentenced to transportation for ten years, another
prostitute named Irish Julia, and this young villain, the Jew. After
remaining for some time the sailor told them he was to leave their
company. On hearing this, Philips’s sister told her brother to stab him
to the heart. He instantly took out a knife from his pocket, opened
it, and stabbed the sailor beneath the collar-bone. After committing
this atrocious crime he coolly wiped the knife on the cuff of his
guernsey, at the same time stating, if the sailor had not got enough he
would give him the other end of the knife. The sailor fell, apparently
mortally wounded, and was removed to St. Thomas’s Hospital.
His sister, on seeing what her brother had done by her order,
desperately seized a bottle of laudanum in the room, and drank off part
of the contents, and still lies in a precarious state.
In this portion of Market Street we understand every house, from
basement to attic, is occupied by prostitutes and thieves.
We entered an adjoining public-house, where three of these young women
followed us to the bar, anxious to know the object of our visiting
the district. They called for a pint of stout, which they drank off
heartily, and stood loitering beside us to hear our conversation, so
that they might have something to gossip about to their companions. The
girl who frolicked in the street with the old bonnet was one of them,
and had now laid this aside. She was fair-haired, and good-looking, but
was very foolish and immodest in her movements. One of her companions
was taller and more robust, but her conduct showed she was debased in
her character, and lost to all sense of propriety. The other girl was
tall and dark-eyed, and more quiet and calculating in her manner as she
stood, in a light cotton dress, silently leaning against the door-post.
One evening in September, about eight o’clock, we took another ramble
over the criminal district of the Borough.
As we went along Kent Street the lamps were lit, and the shops in the
adjoining streets were illuminated with their flaring gas lights. On
passing St. George’s church we saw a crowd collected around a drunken
middle-aged Irishwoman. It was one of those motley scenes one often
meets in the streets of London. Young people and middle-aged, old women
and children were clustered together, some well-dressed, others in
mechanics’ dress, begrimed with dust and sweat, and others hanging in
rags and tatters. They were collected around this woman, who stood on
the pavement, while the mass were gathered in the street, many of them
looking on anxiously with eyes and mouth open, others grinning with
delight, and some with sinister countenance, while she gesticulated
wildly, yet in good humour, in a strong Irish accent, amid the applause
of the auditory.
We could not hear the subject of her oration. On our coming up to her
and remaining for a short time, curious to know the nature of the
comedy, the woman went away, followed by part of the crowd, when she
appeared to take her station again in the midst of them. We had no time
to lose, and passed on.
On our proceeding farther into Kent Street, a good-looking girl,
evidently belonging to the lower orders, stood in a doorway, with
beaming smile, and beckoned us to enter. She had accosted us in like
manner in the light of open day on our previous visit to Kent Street,
while another young woman, of her own age and size, apparently her
sister, stood by her side. As on the former occasion we did not trust
ourselves to these syren sisters, but again passed on, notwithstanding
urgent solicitations to enter.
Farther along the street we saw a small group of men and boys--thieves
and utterers of base coin. A young woman of about twenty-five years
of age stood among them, who was a common prostitute and expert
thief, although we could scarcely have known this from her heavy,
stupid-looking countenance, which was bloated and dissipated. One of
the group was a burglar. He was under the middle size, pockpitted, and
had a callous, daring look about him. We had time to study the lines of
his face. They soon divined our purpose, and skulked off in different
directions, as we found the generality of such persons to do in the
course of our visits. The men were of different ages, varying from
seventeen to thirty, dressed similar to costermongers.
We bent our way to St. George’s New Town, a by-street off Kent Street.
On turning the corner from Kent Street, leading into St. George’s New
Town, we saw a cluster of men and women, varying in age from seventeen
to forty, also dressed like those just described. Most of them were
convicted thieves.
We then came back to Mint Street, leading out of High Street in the
Borough to Southwark Bridge Road, which, as we have said, is very low
and disreputable.
Leaving Mint Street and its dark, disreputable neighbourhood, we
directed our way to Norfolk Street, a very narrow street, leading
into Union Street in the Borough. This locality is much infested with
pickpockets and also with “dragsmen,” _i. e._ those persons who steal
goods or luggage from carts and coaches. At one corner of this street
we saw no less than seven or eight persons clustered together, several
of them convicted thieves. They were dressed similar to those in the
low neighbourhoods already described.
We then went into Little Surrey Street, Borough Road, where we entered
a beershop. Here we found four men, from twenty-five to thirty-five
years of age--expert burglars. One of them appeared to be a mechanic.
He told us he was an engraver. This was the same burglar, with his nose
flattened, we had seen on the previous occasion referred to. He was an
intelligent, determined man, and acted as the head of the gang. The
other two were the companions we had seen with him in Gunn Street. All
of them were rather under the middle size. They were now better dressed
than formerly, and apparently on the eve of setting out to commit
some felony. They appeared trimmed up in working order. A prostitute,
connected with them, with her eye blackened, stood by the bar. She was
also well-attired, and ready to accompany them. Burglars of this class
often have a woman to go before them, to carry their housebreaking
tools, to the house they intend to enter, as they might be arrested
on the way with the tools in their own possession. The woman was
tolerably good-looking, and on setting out, was possibly getting primed
with gin. The engraver has been convicted several times for picking
pockets as well as for burglary. The other two are convicted burglars.
There was a man of about forty years of age seated beside them in the
beershop, whom we learned was in a decline. The burglars are often
liberal in supporting the invalids connected with them, and the latter
lend a subordinate hand occasionally in their nefarious work, such
as in assisting to dispose of the stolen property. One of their old
“pals” died lately, and the burglars in his neighbourhood raised a
subscription between them to defray his funeral expenses.
We proceeded to Market Street, Borough Road, where we had on the
former occasion observed the scene of merriment with the organist and
the young girls. But the street had now a very different appearance.
Instead of the locality ringing with the light-hearted merriment and
buffoonery of the young girls and groups of children, the dark pall of
night was stretched over it. At every door as we passed we saw a female
standing on the outlook for persons to enter their dens of prostitution
and crime. They solicited us in whispers to enter, or tapped us gently
on the shoulder, or seized us by the skirts of the coat. Some of them
were young and good-looking, while others were old and bloated. We
looked into several of the houses as we went along, and saw numbers
of young prostitutes in their best attire, seated by the tables, or
lolling on the seats. This part of Market Street is one of the lowest
rookeries of prostitutes and thieves in London. Many a young girl has
been ruined by entering these low brothels. She may have been a servant
out of place, or she may have left her home in the metropolis, and
betaken herself here to a life of infamy.
These prostitutes assist to maintain the burglars, pickpockets, and
other thieves, when they are not successful in their lawless calling.
Some of them are well-dressed and remarkably good-looking. They
occasionally come home with men in cabs from the different theatres,
and rob them in their dwellings, and turn them unceremoniously into the
street, but do not strip them of their clothing. When their cash is
done, they wish their company no longer.
In other low districts in the vicinity of Kent Street, prostitutes have
been convicted for stealing the clothes of the unfortunates who have
entered their dismal abodes.
Leaving Market Street and the alleys and slums of that locality
behind us, we went along Newington Causeway, a far brighter and more
salubrious scene. This is a wide business street, and one of the main
streets on the Surrey side of the river, where, especially in the
evenings, a good deal of shopping is carried on.
The south side of Newington Causeway, from Horsemonger Lane gaol to the
Elephant and Castle, is crowded with shops, the street being lit up
nearly as clear as day. There are several splendid gin-palaces in this
locality, generally crowded with motley groups of people of various
ranks and pursuits; and milliners’ shops, with their windows gaily
furnished with ladies’ bonnets of every hue and style, and ribbons
of every tint; and drapers’ shops with cotton gown pieces, muslins,
collars, and gloves of every form and colour. There are many boot-
and shoe-shops, with assortments of fancy shoes as well as plain.
Upholsterers’ shops, with carpets and rugs of every pattern, and
chemists, with their gay-coloured jars, flaming like globes of red,
blue, green, and yellow fire. The street is filled with incessant tides
of mechanics, tradesmen’s wives, milliners, dressmakers, and others,
going shopping or returning from their daily toil; and many respectable
people take their evening’s walk along this cheerful and bustling
thoroughfare, which is a favourite place for promenading.
In walking along we noticed many young men and women in respectable
attire. Here we saw some young, genteel milliners and dressmakers,
and girls from other places of business, returning to their homes or
lodgings, at the close of the day, and taking an occasional glance at
the shop windows, as they passed along. By their side we saw apparently
some married women, out shopping with a new bonnet, or other article
of dress, carefully wrapt up. In another part of the street we saw a
shopman making love to a pretty girl, with clustering ringlets, who
looked serenely upon him as he stood bareheaded outside the door of a
drapery establishment.
Among the busy throng of people passing to and fro we observed two
young women, pickpockets, dressed in brown cloaks, like milliners, and
in fancy bonnets, passing quietly along. A person who did not know
them personally, could not have detected their criminal character. On
following them a short way, they passed over to the other side of the
street. From their features and from the similarity of their dress
we could have guessed them to be sisters. They were apparently about
twenty-five years of age.
As is generally the case with such persons, on being noticed they
separated on the other side of the street to prevent our following
their movements. One went off in one direction, and the other in
another; but meantime they had probably arranged to meet each other
when out of the officer’s sight.
The Borough is chiefly the locality of labouring people and small
shopkeepers--the masses of the people--and has low neighbourhoods in
many of the by-streets, infested by the dangerous classes. It contains
specimens of almost all kinds of thieves, from the lowest to the most
expert, though for the most part few of the swells reside here. Many of
them prefer to live about the Kingsland Road.
They occasionally leave their own dwellings in other parts of the city,
and come here, and live retired to be away from the surveillance of the
police of their own district.
There are some expert “cracksmen” (burglars) here, dressed in
fashionable style, who indulge in potations of brandy and champagne,
and the best of liquors. In their appearance there is little or no
trace of their criminal character. They have the look of sharp business
men. They commit burglaries at country mansions, and sometimes at shops
and warehouses, often extensive, and generally contrive to get safely
away with their booty.
These crack burglars generally live in streets adjoining the New
Kent Road and Newington Causeway, and groups of them are to be seen
occasionally at the taverns beside the Elephant and Castle, where they
regale themselves luxuriously on the choicest wines, and are lavish
of their gold. From their superior manner and dress few could detect
their real character. One might pass them daily in the street, and not
be able to recognize them.
HOUSEBREAKERS AND BURGLARS.
The expert burglar is generally very ingenious in his devices, and
combines manual dexterity with courage. In his own sphere the burglar
in manual adroitness equals the accomplished pickpocket, while in
personal daring he rivals our modern ruffians of the highway, who
perpetrate garotte robberies, or plunder their victims with open
violence.
Many of our London burglars have been trained from their boyhood. Some
are the children of convicted thieves; some have for a time lived as
sneaks, committing petty felonies when residing in low lodging-houses;
others are the children of honest parents, mechanics and tradesmen, led
into bad company, and driven into criminal courses.
In treating of sneaks we alluded to the area-sneak, and lobby-sneak,
watching a favourable opportunity and darting into the kitchen and
pantry, and sometimes entering the apartments on the first floor and
stealing the plate. We alluded to the lead-stealer finding his way to
the house-top, and to the attic-thief adroitly slipping downstairs to
the apartments below, and carrying away valuables, jewellery, plate,
and money. Here we see the points of transition, from the petty felon
to the daring midnight robber plundering with violence.
We shall in the outset offer a few general remarks on the manner in
which housebreaking and burglaries are effected in London, and then
proceed to a more detailed account of the various modes pursued in the
different districts.
_Breaking into houses, shops, and warehouses_ is accomplished in
various ways, such as picking the locks with skeleton keys; inserting
a thin instrument between the sashes and undoing the catch of the
windows, which enables the thieves to lift up the under sash; getting
over the walls at the back, and breaking open a door or window which
is out of sight of the street, or other public place; lifting the
cellar-flap or area-grating; getting into an empty house next door,
or a few doors off, and passing from the roof to that of the house
they intend to rob; entering by an attic-window, or trap-door, and if
there are neither window nor door on the roof, taking off some of the
tiles and entering the house. Sometimes the thieves will make an entry
through a brick wall in an adjoining building, or climb the waterspout
to get in at the window. These are the general modes of breaking into
houses.
Sometimes when doors are fastened with a padlock outside, and no
other lock on the door, thieves will get a padlock as near like it
as possible. They will then break off the proper lock, one of them
will enter the house, and an accomplice will put on a lock as like
it as possible to deceive the police, while one or more inside will
meantime pack up the goods. Sometimes a well-dressed thief waylays a
servant-girl going out on errands in the evening, professes to fall
in love with her, and gets into her confidence, till she perhaps
admits him into the house when her master and mistress are out. Having
confidence in him she shows him over the house, and informs him where
the valuables are kept. If the house is well secured, so that there
will be difficulty of breaking in by night, he manages to get an
accomplice inside to secrete himself till the family has gone to bed,
when he admits one or more of his companions into the house. They pack
up all they can lay hold of, such as valuables and jewels. On such
occasions there is generally one on the outlook outside, who follows
the policeman unobserved, and gives the signal to the parties inside
when it is safe to come out.
In warehouses one of the thieves frequently slips in at closing-time,
when only a few servants are left behind, and are busy shutting up.
He secretes himself behind goods in the warehouse, and when all have
retired for the night, and the door locked, he opens it and lets in his
companions to pack up the booty. Should it consist of heavy goods, they
generally have a cart to take it away. They are sometimes afraid to
engage a cabman unless they can get him to connive at the theft, and,
besides, the number of the cab can be taken. They get the goods away in
the following manner. If consisting of bulky articles, such as cloth,
silks, &c., they fill large bags, similar to sacks, and get as much as
they think the cart can conveniently hold, placed near the door. When
the policeman has passed by on his round, the watch stationed outside
gives the signal; the door is opened, the cart drives up, and four or
five sacks are handed into it by two thieves in about a minute, when
the vehicle retires. It is loaded and goes off sooner than a gentleman
would take his carpet-bag and portmanteau into a cab when going to a
railway-station. The cart proceeds with the driver in one way, while
the thieves walk off in a different direction. They close the outer
door after them when they enter a shop or warehouse, most of which have
spring locks. When the policeman comes round on his beat he finds the
door shut, and there is nothing to excite his suspicion. The cart is
never seen loitering at the door above a couple of minutes, and does
not make its appearance on the spot till the robbery is about to be
committed, when the signal is given.
Lighter goods, such as jewellery, or goods of less bulk, are generally
taken away in carpet bags in time to catch an early train, often about
five or six o’clock, and the robbers being respectably-dressed, and
in a neighbourhood where they are not known, pass on in most cases
unmolested. Sometimes they pack up the goods in hampers, as if they
were going off to some railway-station. When there is no one sleeping
on the premises, and when they have come to learn where the party
lives who keeps the keys, they watch him home at night after locking
up, and set a watch on his house, that their confederates may not be
disturbed when rifling the premises. If they are to remove the goods in
the morning they do it about an hour before the warehouse is usually
opened, so that the neighbours are taken off their guard, supposing
the premises are opened a little earlier than usual in consequence of
being busy. Sometimes they stand and see the goods taken out, and pay
no particular attention to it. In the event of the person who keeps
the keys coming up sooner than usual, the man keeping watch hastens
forward and gives the signal to his companions, if they have not left
the warehouse.
It often happens when they have got an entry into a house, they
have to break their way into the apartments in the interior to
reach the desired booty, such as wrenching open an inner door with a
small crowbar they term a jemmy, cutting a panel out of a door, or a
partition, with a cutter similar to a centrebit, which works with two
or three knives; this is done very adroitly in a short space of time,
and with very little noise. At other times, when on the floor above,
they cut through one or more boards in the flooring, and frequently cut
panes of glass in the windows with a knife or awl.
They get information as to the property in warehouses from porters
and others unwittingly by leading them into conversation regarding
the goods on the premises, the silks they have got, &c., and find out
the part of the premises where they are to be found. Sometimes they
go in to inspect them on the pretence of looking at some articles of
merchandise.
It occasionally happens servants are in league with thieves, and give
them information as to the hour when to come, and the easiest way to
break in. Sometimes servants basely admit the thieves into the premises
to steal, and give them impressions of the keys, which enables them to
make other keys to enter the house. Thieves sometimes take a blank key
without wards, cover it with wax, work it in the keyhole against the
wards of the lock, and by that means the impression is left in the wax.
They then take it home and make a similar key. When looking into the
lock they frequently strike a match on the doorway, and pretend to be
lighting a pipe or cigar, which prevents passers by suspecting their
object.
These are the general modes of housebreaking and burglary over the
metropolis, but in order that we may have a more vivid and thorough
conception of the subject, we shall give a more graphic detail of these
felonies. We shall first advert to breaking into shops and warehouses,
and then proceed to describe burglaries in various parts of the
metropolis.