trading in such articles as lucifers, boot-laces, cabbage-nets, tapes,
cottons, shirt-buttons, and the like, is in most cases a mere “blind”
to evade the law applying to mendicants and vagrants. There are very
few of the street vendors of such petty articles as lucifers and
shirt-buttons who can make a living from the profits of their trade.
Indeed they do not calculate upon doing so. The box of matches, or the
little deal box of cottons, is used simply as a passport to the resorts
of the charitable. The police are obliged to respect the trader, though
they know very well that under the disguise of the itinerant merchant
there lurks a beggar.
Beggars of this class use their trade to excite compassion and obtain
a gift rather than to effect a sale. A poor half-clad wretch stands by
the kerb exposing for sale a single box of matches, the price being
“only a halfpenny.” A charitable person passes by and drops a halfpenny
or a penny into the poor man’s hand, and disdains to take the matches.
In this way a single box will be sufficient for a whole evening’s
trading, unless some person should insist upon an actual “transaction,”
when the beggar is obliged to procure another box at the nearest
oilman’s. There are very few articles upon which an actual profit is
made by legitimate sale. Porcelain shirt-buttons, a favourite commodity
of the petty trading beggars, would not yield the price of a single
meal unless the seller could dispose of at least twenty dozen in a day.
Cottons, stay-laces, and the like, can now be obtained so cheaply at
the shops, that no one thinks of buying these articles in the streets
unless it be in a charitable mood. Almost the only commodities in which
a legitimate trade is carried on by the petty traders of the streets
are flowers, songs, knives, combs, braces, purses, portmonnaies. The
sellers of knives, combs, &c., are to a certain extent legitimate
traders, and do not calculate upon charity. They are cheats, perhaps,
but not beggars. The vendors of flowers and songs, though they really
make an effort to sell their goods, and often realize a tolerable
profit, are nevertheless beggars, and trust to increase their earnings
by obtaining money without giving an equivalent. A great many children
are sent out by their parents to sell flowers during the summer and
autumn. They find their best market in the bars of public-houses,
and especially those frequented by prostitutes. If none else give
prostitutes a good character, the very poor do. “I don’t know what
we should do but for them,” said an old beggar-woman to me one day.
“They are good-hearted souls--always kind to the poor. I hope God will
forgive them.” I have had many examples of this sympathy for misfortune
and poverty on the part of the fallen women of the streets. A fellow
feeling no doubt makes them wondrous kind. They know what it is to be
cast off, and spurned, and despised; they know, too, what it is to
starve, and, like the beggars, they are subject to the stern “move on”
of the policeman.
The relations which subsist between the prostitutes and the beggars
reveal some curious traits. Beggars will enter a public-house because
they see some women at the bar who will assist their suit. They offer
their little wares to some gentlemen at the bar, and the women will
say, “Give the poor devil something,” or “buy bouquets for us,” or if
the commodity should be laces or buttons, they say, “Don’t take the
poor old woman’s things; give her the money.” And the gentlemen, just
to show off, and appear liberal, do as they are told. Possibly, but
for the pleading of their gay companions, they would have answered
the appeal with a curse and gruff command to begone. I once saw an
old woman kiss a bedizened prostitute’s hand, in real gratitude for
a service of this kind. I don’t know that I ever witnessed anything
more touching in my life. The woman, who a few minutes before had been
flaunting about the bar in the reckless manner peculiar to her class,
was quite moved by the old beggar’s act, and I saw a tear mount in her
eye and slowly trickle down her painted cheek, making a white channel
through the rouge as it fell. But in a moment she dashed it away, and
the next was flaunting and singing as before. Prostitutes are afraid to
remain long under the influence of good thoughts. They recal their days
of innocence, and overpower them with an intolerable sadness--a sadness
which springs of remorse. The gay women assume airs of patronage
towards the beggars, and as such are looked up to; but a beggar-woman,
however poor, and however miserable, if she is conscious of being
virtuous, is always sensible of her superiority in that respect. She is
thankful for the kindness of the “gay lady,” and extols her goodness of
heart; but she pities while she admires, and mutters as a last word,
“May God forgive her.” Thus does one touch of nature make all the world
akin, and thus does virtue survive all the buffets of evil fortune to
raise even a beggar to the level of the most worthy, and be a treasure
dearer and brighter than all the pleasures of the world.
The sellers of flowers and songs are chiefly boys and young girls. They
buy their flowers in Covent Garden, when the refuse of the market is
cleared out, and make them up into small bouquets, which they sell for
a penny. When the flower season is over they sell songs--those familiar
productions of Ryle, Catnach and company, which, it is said, the great
Lord Macaulay was wont to collect and treasure up as collateral
evidences of history. Some of the boys who pursue this traffic are
masters of all the trades that appertain to begging. I have traced one
boy, by the identifying mark of a most villanous squint, through a
career of ten years. When I first saw him he was a mere child of about
four years of age. His mother sent him with a ragged little girl (his
sister) into public-house bars to beg. Their diminutive size attracted
attention and excited charity. By-and-by, possibly in consequence of
the interference of the police, they carried pennyworths of flowers
with them, at other times matches, and at others halfpenny sheets of
songs. After this the boy and the girl appeared dressed in sailor’s
costume, (both as boys,) and sung duets. I remember that one of the
duets, which had a spoken part, was not very decent; the poor children
evidently did not understand what they said; but the thoughtless people
at the bar laughed and gave them money. By-and-by the boy became too
big for this kind of work, and I next met him selling fuzees. After
the lapse of about a year he started in the shoe-black line. His
station was at the end of Endell Street, near the baths; but as he did
not belong to one of the regularly organized brigades, he was hunted
about by the police, and could not make a living. On the death of the
crossing-sweeper at the corner he succeeded to that functionary’s
broom, and in his new capacity was regarded by the police as a useful
member of society. The last time I saw him he was in possession of
a costermonger’s barrow selling mackerel. He had grown a big strong
fellow, but I had no difficulty in identifying the little squinting
child, who begged, and sold flowers and songs in public-house bars,
with the strong loud-lunged vendor of mackerel. I suppose this young
beggar may be said to have pursued an honourable career, and raised
himself in the world. Many who have such an introduction to life finish
their course in a penal settlement.
There are not a few who assume the appearance of petty traders for the
purpose of committing thefts, such as picking a gentleman’s pocket when
he is intoxicated, and slinking into parlours to steal bagatelle balls.
Police spies occasionally disguise themselves as petty traders. There
is a well-known man who goes about with a bag of nuts, betting that
he will tell within two how many you take up in your hand. This man
is said to be a police spy. I have not been able to ascertain whether
this is true or not; but I am satisfied that the man does not get
his living by his nut trick. In the day-time he appears without his
nuts, dressed in a suit of black, and looking certainly not unlike a
policeman in mufti.
Among the petty trading beggars there are a good many idiots and
half-witted creatures, who obtain a living--and a very good one too--by
dancing in a grotesque and idiotic manner on the pavement to amuse
children. Some of them are not such idiots as they appear, but assume a
half-witted appearance to give oddness to their performance, and excite
compassion for their misfortune. The street boys are the avengers of
this imposition upon society.
The idiot performer has a sad life of it when the boys gather about
him. They pull his clothes, knock off his hat, and pelt him with lime
and mud. But this persecution sometimes redounds to his advantage; for
when the grown-up folks see him treated thus, they pity him the more.
These beggars always take care to carry something to offer for sale.
Halfpenny songs are most commonly the merchandise.
The little half-witted Italian man who used to go about grinding an
organ that “had no inside to it,” as the boys said, was a beggar of
this class, and I really think he traded on his constant persecution by
the _gamins_. Music, of course, he made none, for there was only one
string left in his battered organ; but he always acted so as to convey
the idea that the boys had destroyed his instrument. He would turn away
at the handle in a desperate way, as if he were determined to spare no
effort to please his patrons; but nothing ever came of it but a feeble
tink-a-tink at long intervals. If his organ could at any time have been
spoiled, certainly the boys might have done it; for their great delight
was to put stones in it, and batter in its deal back with sticks. I am
informed that this man had a good deal more of the rogue than of the
fool in his composition. A gentleman offered to have his organ repaired
for him; but he declined; and at length when the one remaining string
gave way he would only have that one mended. It was his “dodge” to
grind the air, and appear to be unconscious that he was not discoursing
most eloquent music.
Tract-selling in the streets is a line peculiar to the Hindoos. I find
that the tracts are given to them by religious people, and that they
are bought by religious people, who are not unfrequently the very same
persons who provided the tracts. Very few petty trading beggars take
to tract-selling from their own inspiration; for in good sooth it does
not pay, except when conducted on the principle I have just indicated.
Some find it convenient to exhibit tracts simply to evade the law
applying to beggars and vagrants; but they do not use them if they
can procure a more popular article. In these remarks it is very far
from my intention to speak of “religious people” with any disrespect.
I merely use the expression “religious people” to denote those who
employ themselves actively and constantly in disseminating religious
publications among the people. Their motives and their efforts are most
praiseworthy, and my only regret is that their labours are not rewarded
by a larger measure of success.
AN AUTHOR’S WIFE.
In the course of my inquiry into the habits, condition, and mode of
life of the petty trading beggars of London, I met with a young woman
who alleged that the publications she sold were the production of her
husband. I encountered her at the bar of a tavern, where I was occupied
in looking out for “specimens” of the class of beggars, which I am now
describing. She entered the bar modestly and with seeming diffidence.
She had some printed sheets in her hand. I asked her what they were.
She handed me a sheet. It was entitled the _Pretty Girls of London_.
It was only a portion of the work, and on the last page was printed
“to be continued.” “Do you bring this out in numbers?” I asked. “Yes,
sir,” she replied, “it is written by my husband, and he is continuing
it from time to time.” “Are you then his publisher?” I inquired. “Yes,
sir, my husband is ill a-bed, and I am obliged to go out and sell his
work for him?” I looked through the sheet, and I saw that it was not a
very decent work. “Have you ever read this?” I enquired. “Oh yes, sir,
and I think it’s very clever; don’t you think so, sir?” It certainly
was written with some little ability, and I said so; but I objected to
its morality. Upon which she replied, “But it’s what takes, sir.” She
sold several copies while I was present, at twopence each; but one or
two gave her fourpence and sixpence. As she was leaving I made further
inquiries about her husband. She said he was an author by profession,
and had seen better days. He was very ill, and unable to work. I asked
her, to give me his address as I might be of some assistance to him.
This request seemed to perplex her; and at length she said, she was
afraid her husband would not like to see me; he was very proud. I have
since ascertained that this author’s pretty little wife is a dangerous
impostor. She lives, or did live at the time I met her, at the back of
Clare Market, with a man (not her husband) who was well known to the
police as a notorious begging-letter writer. He was not the author of
anything but those artful appeals, with forged signatures, of which
I have given specimens under the heading of “Screevers.” I was also
assured by an officer that the pretended author’s wife had on one
occasion been concerned in decoying a young man to a low lodging near
Lincoln’s Inn Fields, where the unsuspecting youth was robbed and
maltreated.
DEPENDANTS OF BEGGARS.
The dependants of beggars may be divided into screevers proper; i.e.,
writers of “slums and fakements” for those who live by “screeving,”
and referees, or those who give characters to professional beggars
when references are required. Beggars are generally born and bred to
the business. Their fathers and mothers were beggars before them, and
they have an hereditary right to the calling. The exceptions to this
rule are those who have fallen into mendicancy, and follow it from
necessity, and those who have flown to it in a moment of distress, and
finding it more lucrative than they supposed, adopted it from choice.
Hence it follows that the majority are entirely destitute of education;
and by education I mean the primary arts of reading and writing. Where
there is demand there is supply, and the wants of mendicants who
found their account in “pads,” and “slums,” and “fakements,” created
“screevers.”
The antecedents of the screever are always more or less--and generally
more--disreputable. He has been a fraudulent clerk imprisoned for
embezzlement; or a highly-respected treasurer to a philanthropic
society, who has made off with the funds entrusted to him; or a petty
forger, whose family have purchased silence, and “hushed up” a scandal;
or, more frequently, that most dangerous of convicts, the half-educated
convict--who has served his time or escaped his bonds.
Too proud to beg himself, or, more probably, too well known to the
police to dare face daylight; ignorant of any honest calling, or too
idle to practise it; without courage to turn thief or informer; lazy,
dissolute, and self-indulgent, the screever turns his little education
to the worst of purposes, and prepares the forgery he leaves the more
fearless cadger to utter.
* * * * *
The following are specimens of the screever’s work, copied from the
original documents in the possession of Mr. Horsford, of the Mendicity
Society:--
“Parish of Battersea;
County of Surrey.
“This memorial sheweth that Mr. Alexander Fyfe, a native of Port
Glasgow N.B. and for several years carrying on the business of a
NURSERY and SEEDSMAN in this parish, became security for his son
in law Andrew Talfour of Bay st. Port Glasgow who in October last
privately disposed of his effects and absconded to the colonies,
leaving his wife and six children totally unprovided for and the
said Mr. Alexander Fyfe responsible for the sum of £1350. the sudden
reverse of fortune together with other domestic afflictions so preyed
on the mind of Mr. Fyfe that he is now an inmate of a LUNATIC ASYLUM.
“The said Mr. Fyfe together with his family have hitherto maintained
the character of HONESTY and INDUSTRY in consideration of which I
have been earnestly solicited by a few Benevolent persons to draw up
this statement on behalf of the bereaved family. I have therefore
taken on myself the responsibillity of so doing trusting those whom
Providence has given the means will lend their timely aid in rescuing
a respectable family from the ruin that inevitably awaits them.
“GIVEN under my Hand at the VESTRY in the aforesaid parish of
Battersea and County of Surrey this Twenty-Fourth day of February in
the year of Our Lord 1851.”
John Thomas Freeman, £3
Vestry Clerk,
J. S. Jenkinson £5 0 0
Vicar of Battersea.
Watson and Co. £5
John Forster & Co. £5
Revd. J. Twining 2 2
Alderman J. Humphery 5
Sir George Pollock 5
Southlands.
£.
Henry Mitton 2
Wm. Downs 2
Oak wharf.
Mrs. Broadley Wilson 1
Sir Henry B. Houghton £5
Mrs. Adm^l Colin Campbell 1 1
Col. J. Mc Donall £5 paid.
Anonymous 2
Mrs. Col. Forbes £3
Col. W. Mace paid 5
P. H. Gillespie 5
Minister of the Scotch Church
Battersea Rise
3d March /51
Messrs. Moffat, Gillespie & Co. 5 pd.
My readers will perceive that the above document is written in a
semi-legal style, with a profuse amount of large capitals, and minute
particularity in describing localities, though here and there an
almost ostentatious indifference exists upon the same points. Thus
we are told that the parish of Battersea is in the county of Surrey,
and that Port Glasgow is in North Britain, while on the other hand we
are only informed that the absconding Andrew Talfour, of Bay Street,
Port Glasgow, N.B., made off to the _colonies_, which, considering
the vast extent of our colonial possessions, is vague, to say the
least of it. It must also be allowed that, the beginning the word
“benevolent” in the second paragraph with a capital B is equally to
the credit of the writer’s head and heart. It is odd that after having
spelt “responsible” so correctly, the writer should have indulged
a playful fancy with “responsibi_ll_ity;” but perhaps trifling
orthographical lapses may be in keeping with the assumed character of
vestry-clerk. Critically speaking, the weak point of this composition
is its punctuation; its strong point the concluding paragraph, “the
GIVEN under my hand at the VESTRY,” which carries with it the double
weight of a royal proclamation, and the business-like formality of an
Admiralty contract; but the composition and caligraphy are trifles--the
real genius lies in the signatures.
I wish my readers could see the names attached to this “Memorial” as
they lay before me. The first, “J. S. Jenkinson,” is written in the
most clerical of hands; “Watson and Co.” is round and commercial; “John
Forster & Co.” the same; the “Revd J. Twining” scholarly and easy;
“Alderman J. Humphery” stiff and upright. These names are evidently
copied from the Red Book and Directory; some are purely fictitious;
many are cleverly executed forgeries.
The ingenuity of the concocter and compiler--of the sympathiser with
the woes of Mr. Alexander Fyfe of Port Glasgow, N.B.--was exercised
in vain. The imposture was detected; he was taken to a police-court,
condemned, and sentenced.
Here is the case of another unfortunate Scotchman from the pen of the
same gifted author. The handwriting, the wording, the capitals, and
the N.B.’s, are identical with those of the warm-hearted vestry-clerk
of Battersea.
“These are to certify that Mr. Alexr. Malcolm Ship-Owner and General
Merchant, was on his passage from FRASERBURGH. ABERDEENSHIRE. N.B.
on the night of the 3d. inst when his vessel the Susan and Mary of
Fraserburgh laden with Corn was run down by a “steamer name unknown”
the Crew consisting of Six persons narrowly escaping with their lives.
“Mr. Malcolm sustained a loss of property by the appalling event to
the amount of £370. and being a person of exemplary character with a
numerous family entirely depending upon him for support his case has
excited the greatest sympathy, it has therefore been proposed by a few
of his friends to enter into a subscription on his behalf with a view
of raising by voluntary contributions a sufficient sum to release him
from his present embarrassed situation.
“I have known him for several years a constant trader to this wharf,
and consider him worthy of every sympathy.”
Leith and Glasgow Wharf} Joseph Adams £5 0 0
London May 6th. 1847 } Geo. Carroll 5
A. Nichol & Sons pd. 5
P. Laurie 5
Vivian & Sons 3
J. H. Petty 2 pd
Messrs. Drummond £5 pd.
Cranford Colvin & Co. £3
Baring Brothers 5
Curries & Co. 3
Jono. Price 5 5
Reid, Irving & Co. £5
The signatures attached to this are imitations of the handwriting of
various firms, each distinct, individual, and apparently genuine.
The next “screeve” takes the form of a resolution at a public meeting:--
“Notting-Hill, District
Parish of Kensington
August 6th, 1857
“The Gentry and Clergy of this neighbourhood will no doubt remember
that the late Mr. Edward Wyatt, (for many years a respectable
tradesman in this parish) died in embarrassed circumstances in 1855,
leaving a Widow and Seven Children totally unprovided for, the eldest
of whom a fine Girl 19 years of age having been a Cripple from her
Birth has received a liberal education and is considered a competent
person to superintend a SEMINARY for the tuition of young females
which would materially assist her Mother in supporting a numerous
family.
“A meeting was convened on Monday evening the 3rd inst (the Revd J. P.
Gall, Incumbent of St. Johns, in the Chair) when it was unanimously
proposed to enter into a subscription with a view of raising by
voluntary contributions the sum of £40 in order to establish the
afflicted girl in this praiseworthy undertaking, I have been
instructed by the Parochial Authorities to draw up this statement and
therefore take upon myself the responsibility of so doing knowing the
case to be one meriting sympathy.
“Signed
By order of the Chairman
Reuben Green
Vestry Clerk”
Subscriptions received }
at the Meeting, }
£11 13 6 }
Revd J. P. Gill £1 0 0
Mrs. W. Money 10 0 pd
Chushington £1
Mrs Coventry paid 10/
J. & W. S. Huntley }
Addison Terrace } pd 1 1
Notting Hill }
Mrs. Cribb pd 5 0
The Misses Shorland 7 6
Mrs Harris 5 0
Miss Hall Lansdowne Crescent 10/
W. Atkinson pd 5 0
Thos Jacomb 5 0
Miss J. Robertson paid 5 0
The Misses Howard 5 0
The above letter is written in a better style than those preceding
it. Great talent is exhibited in the imitations of “lady’s-hand.”
The signatures “Mrs. Coventry,” “Mrs. Cribb,” “The Misses Howard,”
and “Mrs. Harris” (surely this screever must have been familiar with
the works of Dickens), are excellently done, but are surpassed by
the clever execution of the letters forming the names, “The Misses
Shorland” and “Miss Hall Lansdowne Crescent,” which are masterpieces of
feminine caligraphy.
The following note was sent to its address, accompanied by a memorial
in one of the House of Commons envelopes, but the faulty grammar,
so unlike the style in which a member of Parliament ought to write,
betrayed it.
“Committee Room No. 3
House of Commons
“Mr. J. Whatman presents his respectful compliments to the Revd. W.
Smith Marriott at the earnest request of the poor families (whose
case will be fully explained on perusal of the accompanying document
in the bearer’s possession), begs to submit it for that gentlemen’s
charitable consideration.
“The persons whom this concerns are natives of Cranbrook Gondhurst,
Brenchley &c and bears unexceptionable characters, they have the
honor of knowing Mr. Marriott at Worsmorden and trust he will add his
signature to the list of subscribers, for which favour they will feel
grateful.
“J. Whatman takes more than ordinary interest in this case having a
knowledge of its authenticity, he therefore trusts that the motives
which actuates him in complying with the request will be deemed a
sufficient apology.
Friday Evening
May 28, 1858”
“This Memorial sheweth that Mr. Henry Shepherd a General Carrier
from EWELL, CHEAM, SUTTON &c. to LONDON VIA Mitchem, Morden, Tooting
and Clapham, was returning home on the Evening of Thursday the 26th
inst when near the Elephant and Castle, his Horse took fright at
a Band of street Musicians and ran off at a furious pace, the Van
coming in contact with a Timber carriage was dashed to pieces, the
Animal received such injuries as caused its death, and Mr. SHEPHERD
endeavouring to save the property entrusted to his care for delivery
had his Right Leg fractured and is now an inmate of GUYS HOSPITAL.