Part 39
Two of the condiments greatly relished by the chilled labourers and others who regale themselves on street luxuries, are “pea-soup” and “hot eels.” Of these tradesmen there may be 500 now in the streets on a Saturday. As the two trades are frequently carried on by the same party, I shall treat of them together. The greatest number of these stands is in Old-street, St. Luke’s, about twenty. In warm weather these street-cooks deal only in “hot eels” and whelks; as the whelk trade is sometimes an accompaniment of the others, for then the soup will not sell. These dealers are stationary, having stalls or stands in the street, and the savoury odour from them attracts more hungry-looking gazers and longers than does a cook-shop window. They seldom move about, but generally frequent the same place. A celebrated dealer of this class has a stand in Clare-street, Clare-market, opposite a cat’s-meat shop; he has been heard to boast, that he wouldn’t soil his hands at the business if he didn’t get his 30_s._ a day, and his 2_l._ 10_s._ on a Saturday. Half this amount is considered to be about the truth. This person has mostly all the trade for hot eels in the Clare-market district. There is another “hot eel purveyor” at the end of Windmill-street, Tottenham-court-road, that does a very good trade. It is thought that he makes about 5_s._ a day at the business, and about 10_s._ on Saturday. There was, before the removals, a man who came out about five every afternoon, standing in the New-cut, nearly opposite the Victoria Theatre, his “girl” always attending to the stall. He had two or three lamps with “hot eels” painted upon them, and a handsome stall. He was considered to make about 7_s._ a day by the sale of eels alone, but he dealt in fried fish and pickled whelks as well, and often had a pile of fried fish a foot high. Near the Bricklayers’ Arms, at the junction of the Old and New Kent-roads, a hot-eel man dispenses what a juvenile customer assured me was “as spicy as any in London, as if there was gin in it.” But the dealer in Clare-market does the largest trade of all in the hot-eel line. He is “the head man.” On one Saturday he was known to sell 100lbs. of eels, and on most Saturdays he will get rid of his four “draughts” of eels (a draught being 20lbs.) He and his son are dressed in Jenny Lind hats, bound with blue velvet, and both dispense the provisions, while the daughter attends to wash the cups. “On a Sunday, anybody,” said my informant, “would think him the first nobleman or squire in the land, to see him dressed in his white hat, with black crape round it, and his drab paletot and mother-o’-pearl buttons, and black kid gloves, with the fingers too long for him.”
I may add, that even the very poorest, who have only a halfpenny to spend, as well as those with better means, resort to the stylish stalls in preference to the others. The eels are all purchased at Billingsgate early in the morning. The parties themselves, or their sons or daughters, go to Billingsgate, and the watermen row them to the Dutch eel vessels moored off the market. The fare paid to the watermen is 1_d._ for every 10lbs. purchased and brought back in the boat, the passenger being gratis. These dealers generally trade on their own capital; but when some have been having “a flare up,” and have “broke down for stock,” to use the words of my informant, they borrow 1_l._, and pay it back in a week or a fortnight at the outside, and give 2_s._ for the loan of it. The money is usually borrowed of the barrow, truck, and basket-lenders. The amount of capital required for carrying on the business of course depends on the trade done; but even in a small way, the utensils cost 1_l._ They consist of one fish-kettle and one soup-kettle, holding upon an average three gallons each; besides these, five basins and five cups and ten spoons are required, also a washhand basin to wash the cups, basins, and spoons in, and a board and tressel on which the whole stand. In a large way, it requires from 3_l._ to 4_l._ to fit up a handsome stall. For this the party would have “two fine kettles,” holding about four gallons each, and two patent cast-iron fireplaces (the 1_l._ outfit only admits of the bottoms of two tin saucepans being used as fireplaces, in which charcoal is always burning to keep the eels and soup hot; the whelks are always eaten cold). The crockery and spoons would be in no way superior. A small dealer requires, over and above this sum, 10_s._ to go to market with and purchase stock, and the large dealer about 30_s._ The class of persons belonging to the business have either been bred to it, or taken to it through being out of work. Some have been disabled during their work, and have resorted to it to save themselves from the workhouse. The price of the hot eels is a halfpenny for five or seven pieces of fish, and three-parts of a cupfull of liquor. The charge for a half-pint of pea-soup is a halfpenny, and the whelks are sold, according to the size, from a halfpenny each to three or four for the same sum. These are put out in saucers.
The eels are Dutch, and are cleaned and washed, and cut in small pieces of from a half to an inch each. [The daughter of one of my informants was busily engaged, as I derived this information, in the cutting of the fish. She worked at a blood-stained board, with a pile of pieces on one side and a heap of entrails on the other.] The portions so cut are then boiled, and the liquor is thickened with flour and flavoured with chopped parsley and mixed spices. It is kept hot in the streets, and served out, as I have stated, in halfpenny cupfulls, with a small quantity of vinegar and pepper. The best purveyors add a little butter. The street-boys are extravagant in their use of vinegar.
To dress a draught of eels takes three hours--to clean, cut them up, and cook them sufficiently; and the cost is now 5_s._ 2_d._ (much lower in the summer) for the draught (the 2_d._ being the expense of “shoring”), 8_d._ for 4 lb. of flour to thicken the liquor, 2_d._ for the parsley to flavour it, and 1_s._ 6_d._ for the vinegar, spices, and pepper (about three quarts of vinegar and two ounces of pepper). This quantity, when dressed and seasoned, will fetch in halfpennyworths from 15_s._ to 18_s._ The profit upon this would be from 7_s._ to 9_s._ 6_d._; but the cost of the charcoal has to be deducted, as well as the salt used while cooking. These two items amount to about 5_d._
The pea-soup consists of split peas, celery, and beef bones. Five pints, at 3-1/2_d._ a quart, are used to every three gallons; the bones cost 2_d._, carrots 1_d._, and celery 1/2_d._--these cost 1_s._ 0-1/4_d._; and the pepper, salt, and mint, to season it, about 2_d._ This, when served in halfpenny basinfulls, will fetch from 2_s._ 3_d._ to 2_s._ 4_d._, leaving 1_s._ 1_d._ profit. But from this the expenses of cooking must be taken; so that the clear gain upon three gallons comes to about 11_d._ In a large trade, three kettles, or twelve gallons, of pea-soup will be disposed of in the day, and about four draughts, or 80 lbs., of hot eels on every day but Saturday,--when the quantity of eels disposed of would be about five draughts, or 100 lbs. weight, and about 15 gallons of pea-soup. Hence the profits of a good business in the hot-eel and pea-soup line united will be from 7_l._ to 7_l._ 10_s._ per week, or more. But there is only one man in London does this amount of business, or rather makes this amount of money. A small business will do about 15 lbs. of eels in the week, including Saturday, and about 12 gallons of soup. Sometimes credit is given for a halfpennyworth, or a pennyworth, at the outside; but very little is lost from bad debts. Boys who are partaking of the articles will occasionally say to the proprietor of the stall, “Well, master, they _are_ nice; trust us another ha’p’orth, and I’ll pay you when I comes again;” but they are seldom credited, for the stall-keepers know well they would never see them again. Very often the stock cooked is not disposed of, and then it is brought home and eaten by the family. The pea-soup will seldom keep a night, but what is left the family generally use for supper.
The dealers go out about half-past ten in the morning, and remain out till about ten at night. Monday is the next best day to Saturday. The generality of the customers are boys from 12 to 16 years of age. Newsboys are very partial to hot eels--women prefer the pea-soup. Some of the boys will have as many as six halfpenny cupfulls consecutively on a Saturday night; and some women will have three halfpenny basinsfull of soup. Many persons in the cold weather prefer the hot soup to beer. On wet, raw, chilly days, the soup goes off better than usual, and in fine weather there is a greater demand for the hot eels. One dealer assured me that he once _did_ serve two gentlemen’s servants with twenty-eight halfpenny cupfulls of hot eels one after another. One servant had sixteen, and the other twelve cupfulls, which they ate all at one standing; and one of these customers was so partial to hot eels, that he used to come twice a day every day for six months after that, and have eight cupfulls each day, four at noon and four in the evening. These two persons were the best customers my informant ever had. Servants, however, are not generally partial to the commodity. Hot eels are not usually taken for dinner, nor is pea-soup, but throughout the whole day, and just at the fancy of the passers-by. There are no shops for the sale of these articles. The dealers keep no accounts of what their receipts and expenditure are.
The best time of the year for the hot eels is from the middle of June to the end of August. On some days during that time a person in a small way of business will clear upon an average 1_s._ 6_d._ a day, on other days 1_s._; on some days, during the month of August, as much as 2_s._ 6_d._ a day. Some cry out “Nice hot eels--nice hot eels!” or “Warm your hands and fill your bellies for a halfpenny.” One man used to give his surplus eels, when he considered his sale completed on a night, to the poor creatures refused admission into a workhouse, lending them his charcoal fire for warmth, which was always returned to him. The poor creatures begged cinders, and carried the fire under a railway arch. The general rule, however, is for the dealer to be silent, and merely expose the articles for sale. “I likes better,” said one man to me, “to touch up people’s noses than their heyes or their hears.” There are now in the trade almost more than can get a living at it, and their earnings are less than they were formerly. One party attributed this to the opening of a couple of penny-pie shops in his neighbourhood. Before then he could get 2_s._ 6_d._ a day clear, take one day with another; but since the establishment of the business in the penny-pie line he cannot take above 1_s._ 6_d._ a day clear. On the day the first of these pie-shops opened, it made as much as 10 lbs., or half a draught of eels, difference to him. There was a band of music and an illumination at the pie-shop, and it was impossible to stand against _that_. The fashionable dress of the trade is the “Jenny Lind” or “wide-awake” hat, with a broad black ribbon tied round it, and a white apron and sleeves. The dealers usually go to Hampton-court or Greenwich on a fine Sunday. They are partial to the pit of Astley’s. One of them told his waterman at Billingsgate the other morning that “he and his good lady had been werry amused with the osses at Hashley’s last night.”
OF THE EXPERIENCE OF A HOT-EEL AND PEA-SOUP MAN.
“I was a coalheaver,” said one of the class to me, as I sat in his attic up a close court, watching his wife “thicken the liquor;” “I was a-going along the plank, from one barge to another, when the swell of some steamers throwed the plank off the ‘horse,’ and chucked me down, and broke my knee agin the side of the barge. Before that I was yarning upon an average my 20_s._ to 30_s._ a week. I was seven months and four days in King’s College Hospital after this. I found they was a-doing me no good there, so I come out and went over to Bartholemy’s Hospital. I was in there nineteen months altogether, and after that I was a month in Middlesex Hospital, and all on ’em turned me out oncurable. You see, the bone’s decayed--four bits of bone have been taken from it. The doctor turned me out three times ’cause I wouldn’t have it off. He asked my wife if she would give consent, but neither she nor my daughter would listen to it, so I was turned out on ’em all. How my family lived all this time it’s hard to tell. My eldest boy did a little--got 3_s._ 6_d._ a week as an errand-boy, and my daughter was in service, and did a little for me; but that was all we had to live upon. There was six children on my hands, and however they _did_ manage I can’t say. After I came out of the hospital I applied to the parish, and was allowed 2_s._ 6_d._ a week and four loaves. But I was anxious to do something, so a master butcher, as I knowed, said he would get me ‘a pitch’ (the right to fix a stall), if I thought I could sit at a stall and sell a few things. I told him I thought I could, and would be very thankful for it. Well, I had heard how the man up in the market was making a fortune at the hot-eel and pea-soup line. [A paviour as left his barrow and two shovels with me told me to-day, said the man, by way of parenthesis--‘that he knowed for a fact he was clearing 6_l._ a week regular.’] So I thought I’d have a touch at the same thing. But you see, I never could rise money enough to get sufficient stock to make a do of it, and never shall, I expect--it don’t seem like it, however. I ought to have 5_s._ to go to market with to-morrow, and I ain’t got above 1_s._ 6_d._; and what’s that for stock-money, I’d like to know? Well, as I was saying, the master butcher lent me 10_s._ to start in the line. He was the best friend I ever had. But I’ve never been able to do anything at it--not to say to get a living.” “He can’t carry anything now, sir,” said his wife, as the old man strove to get the bellows to warm up the large kettle of pea-soup that was on the fire. “Aye, I can’t go without my crutch. My daughter goes to Billingsgate for me. I’ve got nobody else; and she cuts up the eels. If it warn’t for her I must give it up altogether, and go into the workhouse outright. I couldn’t fetch ’em. I ought to have been out to-night by rights till ten, if I’d had anything to have sold. My wife can’t do much; she’s troubled with the rheumatics in her head and limbs.” “Yes,” said the old body, with a sigh, “I’m never well, and never shall be again, I know.” “Would you accept on a drop of soup, sir?” asked the man; “you’re very welcome, I can assure you. You’ll find it very good, sir.” I told him I had just dined, and the poor old fellow proceeded with his tale. “Last week I earned clear about 8_s._, and that’s to keep six on us. I didn’t pay no rent last week nor yet this, and I don’t know when I shall again, if things goes on in this way. The week before there was a fast-day, and I didn’t earn above 6_s._ that week, if I did that. My boy can’t go to school. He’s got no shoes nor nothing to go in. The girls go to the ragged-school, but we can’t send them of a Sunday nowhere.” “Other people can go,” said one of the young girls nestling round the fire, and with a piece of sacking over her shoulders for a shawl--“them as has got things to go in; but mother don’t like to let us go as we are.” “She slips her mother’s shoes on when she goes out. It would take 1_l._ to start me well. With that I could go to market, and buy my draught of eels a shilling cheaper, and I could afford to cut my pieces a little bigger; and people where they gets used well comes again--don’t you see? I could have sold more eels if I’d had ’em to-day, and soup too. Why, there’s four hours of about the best time to-night that I’m losing now ’cause I’ve nothing to sell. The man in the market can give more than we can. He gives what is called the lumping ha’p’orth--that is, seven or eight pieces; ah, that I daresay he does; indeed, some of the boys has told me he gives as many as eight pieces. And then the more eels you biles up, you see, the richer the liquor is, and in our little tin-pot way it’s like biling up a great jint of meat in a hocean of water. In course we can’t compete agin the man in the market, and so we’re being ruined entirely. The boys very often comes and asks me if I’ve got a farden’s-worth of heads. The woman at Broadway, they tells me, sells ’em at four a farden and a drop of liquor, but we chucks ’em away, there’s nothing to eat on them; the boys though will eat anything.”
In the hot-eel trade are now 140 vendors, each selling 6 lb. of eels daily at their stands; 60 sell 40 lb. daily; and 100 are itinerant, selling 5 lb. nightly at the public-houses. The first mentioned take 2_s._ daily; the second 16_s._; and the third 1_s._ 8_d._ This gives a street expenditure in the trade in hot eels of 21,910_l._ for the year.
To start in this business a capital is required after this rate:--stall 6_s._; basket 1_s._; eel-kettle 3_s._ 6_d._; jar 6_d._; ladle 4_d._; 12 cups 1_s._; 12 spoons 1_s._; stew-pan 2_s._; chafing-dish 6_d._; strainer 1_s._; 8 cloths 2_s._ 8_d._; a pair sleeves 4_d._; apron 4_d._; charcoal 2_s._ (4_d._ being an average daily consumption); 1/4 cwt. coal 3-1/2_d._; 1/2 lb. butter (the weekly average) 4_d._; 1 quartern flour 5_d._; 4 oz. pepper 4_d._; 1 quart vinegar 10_d._; 1 lb. salt 1/2_d._; 1 lb. candles for stall 6_d._; parsley 3_d._; stock-money 10_s._ In all 1_l._ 15_s._ In the course of a year the property which may be described as fixed, as in the stall, &c., and the expenditure daily occurring as for stock, butter, coal, according to the foregoing statement, amounts to 15,750_l._ The eels purchased for this trade at Billingsgate are 1,166,880 lb., costing, at 3_d._ per lb., 14,586_l._
In the pea-soup trade there are now one half of the whole number of the hot-eel vendors; of whom 100 will sell, each 4 gallons daily; and of the remaining 50 vendors, each will sell upon an average 10 gallons daily. The first mentioned take 3_s._ daily; and the last 7_s._ 6_d._ This gives a street expenditure of 4,050_l._ during the winter season of five months.
To commence business in the street sale of pea-soup a capital is required after this rate: soup-kettle 4_s._; peas 2_s._; soup-ladle 6_d._; pepper-box 1_d._; mint-box 3_d._; chafing-dish 6_d._; 12 basons 1_s._; 12 spoons 1_s._; bones, celery, mint, carrots, and onions, 1_s._ 6_d._ In all 10_s._ 10_d._ The hot-eel trade being in conjunction with the pea-soup, the same stall, candles, towels, sleeves, and aprons, does for both, and the quantity of extra coal and charcoal; pepper and salt given in the summary of hot-eels serves in cooking, &c., both eels and pea-soup.
OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF PICKLED WHELKS.
The trade in whelks is one of which the costermongers have the undisputed monopoly. The wholesale business is all transacted in Billingsgate, where this shell-fish is bought by the measure (a double peck or gallon), half-measure, or wash. A wash is four measures, and is the most advantageous mode of purchase; “It’s so much cheaper by taking that quantity,” I was told, “it’s as good as having a half-measure in.” An average price for the year may be 4_s._ the wash; “But I’ve given 21_s._ for three wash,” said one costermonger, and he waxed indignant as he spoke, “one Saturday, when there was a great stock in too, just because there was a fair coming on on Monday, and the whelkmen, who are the biggest rogues in Billingsgate, always have the price up then, and hinder a poor man doing good--they’ve a great knack of that.” A wash weighs about 60 lbs. On rare occasions it has been as low as 2_s._ 6_d._, and even 1_s._ 6_d._