Part 48

“I was a copper-plate printer,” he said, “and twenty years ago could earn my 25_s._ a week. But employment fell off. The lithographic injured it, and at last I could get very little work, and then none at all, so I have been carrying now between three and four years. My father-in-law was in the trade, and that made me think of it. My best day’s work, and it’s the same with all, is 2_s._, which is sixteen turns. It’s not possible to do more. If that could be done every day it would be very well, but in wet weather when the laundresses, who are my customers, don’t want water, I can’t make 1_s._ a week. Then in a drought or a frost one has to wait such a long time for his turn, that it’s not 6_d._ a day; a dry spring’s the worst. Last March I had many days to wait six turns, and it takes well on to an hour for a turn then. We sit by the well and talk when we’re waiting. O, yes, sir, the Pope has had his turn of talk. There’s water companies both at Hampstead and Highgate, but our well water (Hampstead) is asked for, for all that. It’s so with Highgate. It is beautiful water, either for washing or drinking. Perhaps it’s better with a little drop of spirit for drinking, but I seldom taste it that way. The fatigue’s so great that we _must_ take a little drop of spirit on a long day. No, sir, we don’t mix it; that spoils two good things. I’ve been at the well first light in the morning, and in summer I’ve been at work at it all night. There’s no rule among us, but it’s understood that every one has his turn. There’s a little chaff sometimes, and some get angry at having to wait, but I never knew a fight. I have a wife and three children. She works for a laundress, and has 2_s._ 6_d._ a day. She has two days regular every week, and sometimes odd turns as well. I think that the women earn more than the men in Hampstead. My rent is 1_s._ 6_d._ a week for an unfurnished room. There is no trade on Sundays, but on fine summer Sundays old ---- attends at the well and sells glasses of cool water. He gets 2_s._ 6_d._ some days. He makes no charge; just what any one pleases to give. Any body might do it, but the old gentleman would grumble that they were taking his post.”

Computing the number of water carriers at the two places at sixty, and their average earnings through the year at 5_s._ a week, it appears that these men receive 780_l._ yearly. The capital required to start in the business is 9_s._, the cost of a pair of pails and a yoke.

The old man who sells water on the summer Sunday mornings, generally leaving off his sale at church-time, told me that his best customers were ladies and gentlemen who loved an early walk, and bought of him “as it looked like a bit of country life,” he supposed, more than from being thirsty. When such customers were not inhabitants of the neighbourhood, they came to him to ask their way, or to make inquiries concerning the localities. Sometimes he dispensed water to men who “looked as if they had been on the loose all night.” “One gentleman,” he said, “looks sharp about him, and puts a dark-coloured stuff--very likely it’s brandy--into the two or three glasses of water which he drinks every Sunday, or which he used to drink rather, for I missed him all last summer, I think. His hand trembled like a aspen; he mostly gave me 6_d._” The water-seller spoke with some indignation of boys, and sometimes men, going to the well on a Sunday morning and “drinking out of their own tins that they’d taken with ’em.”

OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF PASTRY AND CONFECTIONARY.

The cooked provisions sold in the streets, it has been before stated, consist of three kinds--solids, liquids, and pastry and confectionary. The two first have now been fully described, but the last still remains to be set forth.

The street pastry may be best characterised as of a _strong_ flavour. This is, for the most part, attributable to the use of old or rancid butter,--possessing the all-important recommendation of cheapness,--or to the substitution of lard, dripping, or some congenial substance. The “strong” taste, however, appears to possess its value in the estimation of street pastry-buyers, especially among the boys. This may arise from the palates of the consumers having been unaccustomed to more delicate flavours, and having become habituated to the relish of that which is somewhat rank; just in the same way as the “_fumet_” of game or venison becomes dear to the palate of the more aristocratic _gourmand_. To some descriptions of street pastry the epithet strong-flavoured may seem inappropriate, but it is appropriate to the generality of these comestibles,--especially to the tarts, which constitute a luxury, if not to the meat pies or puddings that may supply a meal.

The articles of pastry sold in the London streets are meat and fruit pies, boiled meat and kidney puddings, plum “duff” or pudding, and an almost infinite variety of tarts, cakes, buns, and biscuits; while the confectionary consists of all the several preparations included under the wide denomination of “sweet-stuff,” as well as the more “medicinal” kind known as “cough drops;” in addition to these there are the more “aristocratic” delicacies recently introduced into street traffic, viz., penny raspberry creams and ices.

OF STREET PIEMEN.

The itinerant trade in pies is one of the most ancient of the street callings of London. The meat pies are made of beef or mutton; the fish pies of eels; the fruit of apples, currants, gooseberries, plums, damsons, cherries, raspberries, or rhubarb, according to the season--and occasionally of mince-meat. A few years ago the street pie-trade was very profitable, but it has been almost destroyed by the “pie-shops,” and further, the few remaining street-dealers say “the people now haven’t the pennies to spare.” Summer fairs and races are the best places for the piemen. In London the best times are during any grand sight or holiday-making, such as a review in Hyde-park, the Lord Mayor’s show, the opening of Parliament, Greenwich fair, &c. Nearly all the men of this class, whom I saw, were fond of speculating as to whether the Great Exposition would be “any good” to them, or not.

The London piemen, who may number about forty in winter, and twice that number in summer, are seldom stationary. They go along with their pie-cans on their arms, crying, “Pies all ’ot! eel, beef, or mutton pies! Penny pies, all ’ot--all ’ot!” The “can” has been before described. The pies are kept hot by means of a charcoal fire beneath, and there is a partition in the body of the can to separate the hot and cold pies. The “can” has two tin drawers, one at the bottom, where the hot pies are kept, and above these are the cold pies. As fast as the hot dainties are sold, their place is supplied by the cold from the upper drawer.

A teetotal pieman in Billingsgate has a pony and “shay cart.” His business is the most extensive in London. It is believed that he sells 20_s._ worth or 240 pies a day, but his brother tradesmen sell no such amount. “I was out last night,” said one man to me, “from four in the afternoon till half-past twelve. I went from Somers-town to the Horse Guards, and looked in at all the public-houses on my way, and I didn’t take above 1_s._ 6_d._ I have been out sometimes from the beginning of the evening till long past midnight, and haven’t taken more than 4_d._, and out of that I have to pay 1_d._ for charcoal.”

The pie-dealers usually make the pies themselves. The meat is bought in “pieces,” of the same part as the sausage-makers purchase--the “stickings”--at about 3_d._ the pound. “People, when I go into houses,” said one man, “often begin crying, ‘Mee-yow,’ or ‘Bow-wow-wow!’ at me; but there’s nothing of that kind now. Meat, you see, is so cheap.” About five-dozen pies are generally made at a time. These require a quartern of flour at 5_d._ or 6_d._; 2 lbs. of suet at 6_d._; 1-1/2 lb. meat at 3_d._, amounting in all to about 2_s._ To this must be added 3_d._ for baking; 1_d._ for the cost of keeping hot, and 2_d._ for pepper, salt, and eggs with which to season and wash them over. Hence the cost of the five dozen would be about 2_s._ 6_d._, and the profit the same. The usual quantity of meat in each pie is about half an ounce. There are not more than 20 _hot_-piemen now in London. There are some who carry pies about on a tray slung before them; these are mostly boys, and, including them, the number amounts to about sixty all the year round, as I have stated.

The penny pie-shops, the street men say, have done their trade a great deal of harm. These shops have now got mostly all the custom, as they make the pies much larger for the money than those sold in the streets. The pies in Tottenham-court-road are very highly seasoned. “I bought one there the other day, and it nearly took the skin off my mouth; it was full of pepper,” said a street-pieman, with considerable bitterness, to me. The reason why so large a quantity of pepper is put in is, because persons can’t exactly tell the flavour of the meat with it. Piemen generally are not very particular about the flavour of the meat they buy, as they can season it up into anything. In the summer, a street pieman thinks he is doing a good business if he takes 5_s._ per day, and in the winter if he gets half that. On a Saturday night, however, he generally takes 5_s._ in the winter, and about 8_s._ in the summer. At Greenwich fair he will take about 14_s._ At a review in Hyde-park, if it is a good one, he will sell about 10_s._ worth. The generality of the customers are the boys of London. The women seldom, if ever, buy pies in the streets. At the public-houses a few pies are sold, and the pieman makes a practice of “looking in” at all the taverns on his way. Here his customers are found principally in the tap-room. “Here’s all ’ot!” the pieman cries, as he walks in; “toss or buy! up and win ’em!” This is the only way that the pies can be got rid of. “If it wasn’t for tossing we shouldn’t sell one.”

To “toss the pieman” is a favourite pastime with costermongers boys and all that class; some of whom aspire to the repute of being gourmands, and are critical on the quality of the comestible. If the pieman win the toss, he receives 1_d._ without giving a pie; if he lose, he hands it over for nothing. The pieman himself never “tosses,” but always calls head or tail to his customer. At the week’s end it comes to the same thing, they say, whether they toss or not, or rather whether they win or lose the toss: “I’ve taken as much as 2_s._ 6_d._ at tossing, which I shouldn’t have had if I had’nt done so. Very few people buy without tossing, and the boys in particular. Gentlemen ‘out on the spree’ at the late public-houses will frequently toss when they don’t want the pies, and when they win they will amuse themselves by throwing the pies at one another, or at me. Sometimes I have taken as much as half-a-crown, and the people of whom I had the money has never eaten a pie. The boys has the greatest love of gambling, and they seldom, if ever, buys without tossing.” One of the reasons why the street boys delight in tossing, is, that they can often obtain a pie by such means when they have only a halfpenny wherewith to gamble. If the lad wins he gets a penny pie for his halfpenny.

For street mince-meat pies the pieman usually makes 5lb. of mince-meat at a time, and for this he will put in 2 doz. of apples, 1lb. of sugar, 1lb. of currants, 2lb. of “critlings” (critlings being the refuse left after boiling down the lard), a good bit of spice to give the critlings a flavour, and plenty of treacle to make the mince-meat look rich.

[Illustration: THE COSTER BOY AND GIRL TOSSING THE PIEMAN.

[_From a Daguerreotype by_ BEARD.]]

The “gravy” which used to be given with the meat-pies was poured out of an oil-can, and consisted of a little salt and water browned. A hole was made with the little finger in the top of the meat pie, and the “gravy” poured in until the crust rose. With this gravy a person in the line assured me that he has known pies four days old to go off very freely, and be pronounced excellent. The street piemen are mostly bakers, who are unable to obtain employment at their trade. “I myself,” said one, “was a bread and biscuit baker. I have been at the pie business now about two years and a half, and I can’t get a living at it. Last week my earnings were not more than 7_s._ all the week through, and I was out till three in the morning to get that.” The piemen seldom begin business till six o’clock, and some remain out all night. The best time for the sale of pies is generally from ten at night to one in the morning.

Calculating that there are only fifty street piemen plying their trade in London, the year through, and that their average earnings are 8_s._ a week, we find a street expenditure exceeding 1,040_l._, and a street consumption of pies amounting nearly to three quarters of a million yearly.

To start in the penny pie business of the streets requires 1_l._ for a “can,” 2_s._ 6_d._ for a “turn-halfpenny” board to gamble with, 12_s._ for a gross of tin pie-dishes, 8_d._ for an apron, and about 6_s._ 6_d._ for stock money--allowing 1_s._ for flour, 1_s._ 3_d._ for meat, 2_d._ for apples, 4_d._ for eels, 2_s._ for pork flare or fat, 2_d._ for sugar, 1/2_d._ for cloves, 1_d._ for pepper and salt, 1_d._ for an egg to wash the pies over with, 6_d._ for baking, and 1_d._ for charcoal to keep the pies hot in the streets. Hence the capital required would be about 2_l._ in all.

OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF BOILED PUDDINGS.

The sale of _boiled_ puddings, meat and currant--which might perhaps be with greater correctness called dumplings--has not been known in London, I was informed by one in the trade, more than twelve or fourteen years. The ingredients for the meat puddings are not dissimilar to those I have described as required for the meat pies, but the puddings are boiled, in cotton bags, in coppers or large pans, and present the form of a round ball. The charge is a halfpenny each. Five or six years back a man embarked his means--said to be about 15_l._--in the meat-pudding line, and prepared a superior article, which was kept warm in the street by means of steam, in a manner similar to that employed by the pieman. A mechanic out of work was engaged by this projector to aid him in the sale of his street luxuries, and the mechanic and his two boys made a living by this sale for two or three years. The original pudding-projector relinquished the street trade to go into business as a small shop-keeper, and the man who sold for him on a sort of commission, earning from 12_s._ to 18_s._ a week, made the puddings on his own account. His earnings, however, on his own account were not above from 1_s._ to 2_s._ 6_d._ a week beyond what he earned by commission, and a little while back he obtained work again at his own business, but his two boys still sell puddings in the street.

The sale of boiled meat puddings is carried on only in the autumn and winter months, and only in the evenings, except on Saturdays, when the business commences in the afternoon. The sale, I was informed by one of the parties, has been as many as forty-five dozen puddings on a Saturday evening. The tins in which the puddings are carried about hold from four to six dozen, and are replenished from the pans--the makers always living contiguous to the street where the vend takes place--as fast as the demand requires such replenishment. An average sale on a fine dry winter Saturday evening is thirty dozen, but then, as in most street callings, “the weather”--a remark often made to me--“has considerable to do with it.” A frost, I was told, helped off the puddings, and a rain kept them back. Next to Saturday the best business night is Monday; but the average sale on the Monday is barely half that on the Saturday, and on the other evenings of the week about a third. This gives a weekly sale by each street-seller of 85 dozen, or 1,020 puddings, and as I am informed there are now but six street-sellers (regularly) of this comestible, the weekly aggregate would be--allowing for bad weather--5,400, or 129,600 in a season of 24 weeks; an expenditure on the part of the street boys and girls (who are the principal purchasers), and of the poor persons who patronise the street-trade, of about 270_l._ per annum. The wandering street-musicians of the poorer class--such as “Old Sarey” and the Italian boys--often make their dinner off a meat pudding purchased on their rounds; for it is the rule with such people never to return home after starting in the morning till their day’s work is done.

The boys who ply their callings in the street, or are much in the open air, are very fond of these puddings, and to witness the way in which they throw the pudding, when very hot, from hand to hand, eyeing it with an expression that shows an eagerness to eat with a fear of burning the mouth, is sometimes laughable and sometimes painful, because not unfrequently there is a look of keen hunger about the--probably outcast--lad. The currant puddings are, I believe, sold only at Billingsgate and Petticoat-lane.

OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF PLUM “DUFF” OR DOUGH.

Plum dough is one of the street-eatables--though perhaps it is rather a violence to class it with the street-pastry--which is usually made by the vendors. It is simply a boiled plum, or currant, pudding, of the plainest description. It is sometimes made in the rounded form of the plum-pudding; but more frequently in the “roly-poly” style. Hot pudding used to be of much more extensive sale in the streets. One informant told me that twenty or thirty years ago, batter, or Yorkshire, pudding, “with plums in it,” was a popular street business. The “plums,” as in the orthodox plum-puddings, are raisins. The street-vendors of plum “duff” are now very few, only six as an average, and generally women, or if a man be the salesman he is the woman’s husband. The sale is for the most part an evening sale, and some vend the plum dough only on a Saturday night. A woman in Leather-lane, whose trade is a Saturday night trade, is accounted “one of the best plum duffs” in London, as regards the quality of the comestible, but her trade is not considerable.

The vendors of plum dough are the street-sellers who live by vending other articles, and resort to plum dough, as well as to other things, “as a help.” This dough is sold out of baskets in which it is kept hot by being covered with cloths, sometimes two and even three, thick; and the smoke issuing out of the basket, and the cry of the street-seller, “Hot plum duff, hot plum,” invite custom. A quartern of flour, 5_d._; 1/2 lb. Valentia raisins, 2_d._; dripping and suet in equal proportions, 2-1/2_d._; treacle, 1/2_d._; and allspice, 1/2_d._--in all 10-1/2_d._; supply a roly-poly of twenty pennyworths. The treacle, however, is only introduced “to make the dough look rich and spicy,” and must be used sparingly.

The plum dough is sold in slices at 1/2_d._ or 1_d._ each, and the purchasers are almost exclusively boys and girls--boys being at least three-fourths of the revellers in this street luxury. I have ascertained--as far as the information of the street-sellers enables me to ascertain--that take the year through, six “plum duffers” take 1_s._ a day each, for four winter months, including Sundays, when the trade is likewise prosecuted. Some will take from 4_s._ to 10_s._ (but rarely 10_s._) on a Saturday night, and nothing on other nights, and some do a little in the summer. The vendors, who are all stationary, stand chiefly in the street-markets and reside near their stands, so that they can get relays of hot dough.

If we calculate then 42_s._ a week as the takings of six persons, for five months, so including the summer trade, we find that upwards of 200_l._ is expended in the street purchase of plum dough, nearly half of which is profit. The trade, however, is reckoned among those which will disappear altogether from the streets.

The capital required to start is: basket, 1_s._ 9_d._; cloths, 6_d._; pan for boiling, 2_s._; knife, 2_d._; stock-money, 2_s._; in all about, 7_s._ 6_d._

OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF CAKES, TARTS, &C.

These men and boys--for there are very few women or girls in the trade--constitute a somewhat numerous class. They are computed (including Jews) at 150 at the least, all regular hands, with an addition, perhaps, of 15 or 20, who seek to earn a few pence on a Sunday, but have some other, though poorly remunerative, employment on the week-days. The cake and tart-sellers in the streets have been, for the most part, mechanics or servants; a fifth of the body, however, have been brought up to this or to some other street-calling.

The cake-men carry their goods on a tray slung round their shoulders when they are offering their delicacies for sale, and on their heads when not engaged in the effort to do business. They are to be found in the vicinity of all public places. Their goods are generally arranged in pairs on the trays; in bad weather they are covered with a green cloth.

None of the street-vendors make the articles they sell; indeed, the diversity of those articles renders that impossible. Among the regular articles of this street-sale are “Coventrys,” or three-cornered puffs with jam inside; raspberry biscuits; cinnamon biscuits; “chonkeys,” or a kind of mince-meat baked in crust; Dutch butter-cakes; Jews’ butter-cakes; “bowlas,” or round tarts made of sugar, apple, and bread; “jumbles,” or thin crisp cakes made of treacle, butter, and flour; and jams, or open tarts with a little preserve in the centre.