Part 49
All these things are made for the street-sellers by about a dozen Jew pastry-cooks, the most of whom reside about Whitechapel. They confine themselves to the trade, and make every description. On a fine holiday morning their shops, or rather bake-houses, are filled with customers, as they supply the small shops as well as the street-sellers of London. Each article is made to be sold at a halfpenny, and the allowance by the wholesale pastry-cook is such as to enable his customers to realise a profit of 4_d._ in 1_s._; thus he charges 4_d._ a dozen for the several articles. Within the last seven years there has been, I am assured, a great improvement in the composition of these cakes, &c. This is attributable to the Jews having introduced superior dainties, and, of course, rendered it necessary for the others to vie with them: the articles vended by these Jews (of whom there are from 20 to 40 in the streets) are still pronounced, by many connoisseurs in street-pastry, as the best. Some sell penny dainties also, but not to a twentieth part of the halfpenny trade. One of the wholesale pastry-cooks takes 40_l._ a week. These wholesale men, who sometimes credit the street-people, buy ten, fifteen, or twenty sacks of flour at a time whenever a cheap bargain offers. They purchase as largely in Irish butter, which they have bought at 3_d._ or 2-1/2_d._ the pound. They buy also “scrapings,” or what remains in the butter-firkins when emptied by the butter-sellers in the shops. “Good scrapings” are used for the best cakes; the jam they make themselves. To commence the wholesale business requires a capital of 600_l._ To commence the street-selling requires a capital of only 10_s._; and this includes the cost of a tray, about 1_s._ 9_d._; a cloth 1_s._; and a leathern strap, with buckle, to go round the neck, 6_d._; while the rest is for stock, with a shilling, or two as a reserve. All the street-sellers insist upon the impossibility of any general baker making cakes as cheap as those they vend. “It’s impossible, sir,” said one man to me; “it’s a trade by itself; nobody else can touch it. They was miserable little things seven years ago.”
An acute-looking man, decently dressed, gave me the following account. He resided with his wife--who went out charing--in a decent little back-room at the East-end, for which he paid 1_s._ a week. He had no children:--
“I’m a ‘translator’ (a species of cobbler) by trade,” he said, “but I’ve been a cake and a tart-seller in the streets for seven or eight years. I couldn’t make 1_s._ 3_d._ a day of twelve hours’ work, and sometimes nothing, by translating. Besides, my health was failing; and, as I used to go out on a Sunday with cakes to sell for a cousin of mine, I went into the trade myself, because I’d got up to it. I did middling the first three or four years, and I’d do middling still, if it wasn’t for the bad weather and the police. I’ve been up three times for ‘obstructing.’ Why, sir, I never obstructed a quarter as much as the print-shops and newspaper-shops down there” (pointing to a narrow street in the City). “But the keepers of them shops can take a sight at the Lord Mayor from behind their tills. The first time I was up before the Lord Mayor--it’s a few years back--I thought he talked like an old wife. ‘You mustn’t stand that way,’ he says, ‘and you mustn’t do this, and you mustn’t do that.’ ‘Well, my lord,’ says I, ‘then I mustn’t live honestly. But if you’ll give me 9_s._ a week, I’ll promise not to stand here, and not to stand there; and neither to do this, nor that, nor anything at all, if that pleases you better.’ They was shocked, they said, at my impudence--so young a fellow, too! I got off each time, but a deal of my things was spoiled. I work the City on week-days, and Victoria Park on Sundays. In the City, my best customers is not children, but young gents; real gents, some of them with gold watches. They buys twopenn’orth, mostly--that’s four of any sort, or different sorts. They’re clerks in banks and counting-houses, I suppose, that must look respectable like on a little, and so feeds cheap, poor chaps! for they dine or lunch off it, never doubt. Or they may be keeping their money for other things. To sell eleven dozen is a first-rate days’ work; that’s 1_s._ 9_d._ or 1_s._ 10_d._ profit. But then comes the wet days, and I can’t trade at all in the rain; and so the things get stale, and I have to sell them in Petticoat-lane for two a halfpenny. Victoria Park--I’m not let inside with my tray--is good and bad as happens. It’s chiefly a tossing trade there. Oh, I dare say I toss 100 times some Sundays. I don’t like tossing the coster lads, they’re the wide-awakes that way. The thieves use ‘grays.’ They’re ha’pennies, either both sides heads or both tails. Grays sell at from 2_d._ to 6_d._ I’m not often had that way, though. Working-people buy very few of me on Sundays; it’s mostly boys; and next to the gents., why, perhaps, the boys is my best customers in the City. Only on Monday a lad, that had been lucky ‘fiddling’” (holding horses, or picking up money anyhow) “spent a whole shilling on me. I clear, I think--and I’m among the cakes that’s the top of the tree--about 10_s._ a week in summer, and hardly 7_s._ a week in winter. My old woman and me makes both ends meet, and that’s all.”
Reckoning 150 cake-sellers, each clearing 6_s._ a week, a sufficiently low average, the street outlay will be 2,340_l._, representing a street-consumption of 1,123,200 cakes, tarts, &c.
OF OTHER CAKE-SELLERS IN THE STREETS.
The street cake-selling of London is not _altogether_ confined to the class I have described; but the others engaged in it are not regular pursuers of the business, and do not exceed thirty in number. Some stock their trays with flare-cakes, which are round cakes, made of flour and “unrendered” (unmelted) lard, and stuck over freely with currants. They are sold at a farthing and a halfpenny each. Others, again, carry only sponge-cakes, made of flour and eggs, packed closely and regularly together, so as to present an uniform and inviting surface. Others carry only gingerbread, made of flour and treacle. These small trades are sometimes resorted to for a temporary purpose, rather than a street-seller’s remaining in compulsory idleness. I learned also that cake-sellers in the regular line, when unable to command sufficient capital to carry on their trade in the way they have been accustomed to, sell “flayers,” so called from being made with pig’s or sheep’s “flay,” or any other cheap cakes, and so endeavour to retrieve themselves. The profits on these plainer sorts is 1_d._ in 1_s._ more than that on the others, but the sale rarely exceeds half as much. I heard, however, of one man who deposited in pence, in eight days, 1_s._ 10_d._ with a wholesale pastry-cook. He had saved this sum by almost starving himself, on the sale of the inferior cakes, and the dealer trusted him the 10_d._ to make up eight dozen in the regular cake business. To commence the street sale of cheap cakes requires a capital of less than 5_s._; for tray, 1_s._ 6_d._; cloth, 6_d._; strap, 6_d._; and stock-money, 1_s._ 6_d._
Three or four men are occupied in selling plum-cakes. These are generally sold in half-penny and penny lots. The plum-cake is made by the same class of pastrycooks whom I have described as supplying the tarts, puffs, &c., and sold on the same terms. The profits are fifty per cent.--what cost 4_s._ bringing in 6_s._ One man who travels to all the fairs and races, and is more in the country than town in the summer and autumn, sells large quantities of plum-cake in Smithfield when in town, sometimes having 2_l._ worth and more on his stall. He sells cakes of a pound (ostensibly) at 4_d._, 6_d._, and 8_d._, according to quality. He sometimes supplies the street-sellers on the same terms as the pastrycooks, for he was once a baker.
From the best data at my command, it appears that the sale of these inferior cakes does not realise above a fifth of that taken by the other sellers, of whom I have treated, amounting to about 450_l._ in all.
OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF GINGERBREAD-NUTS, &C.
The sale of gingerbread, as I have previously observed, was much more extensive in the streets than it is at present. Indeed, what was formerly known in the trade as “toy” gingerbread is now unseen in the streets, except occasionally, and that only when the whole has not been sold at the neighbouring fairs, at which it is still offered. But, even at these fairs, the principal, and sometimes the only, toy gingerbread that is vended is the “cock in breeches;” a formidable-looking bird, with his nether garments of gold. Twenty or thirty years ago, “king George on horseback” was popular in gingerbread. His Majesty, wearing a gilt crown, gilt spurs, and a gilt sword, bestrode the gilt saddle of his steed, and was eaten with great relish by his juvenile subjects. There were also sheep, and dogs, and other animals, all adorned in a similar manner, and looking as if they had been formed in close and faithful imitation of children’s first attempts at cattle drawing. These edible toys were then sold in “white,” as well as in “brown” gingerbread, the white being the same in all other respects as the brown, except that a portion of sugar was used in its composition instead of treacle.
There are now only two men in London who make their own gingerbread-nuts for sale in the streets. This preparation of gingerbread is called by the street-sellers, after a common elliptical fashion, merely “nuts.” From the most experienced man in the street trade I had the following account: he was an intelligent, well-mannered, and well-spoken man, and when he laughed or smiled, had what may be best described as a pleasant look. After he had initiated me into the art and mystery of gingerbread making--which I shall detail separately--he said,
“I’ve been in the ‘nut’ trade 25 years, or thereabouts, and have made my own nuts for 20 years of that time. I bought of a gingerbread baker at first--there was plenty of them in them days--and the profit a living profit, too. Certainly it was, for what I bought for 5_s._ I could sell for 16_s._ I was brought up a baker, but the moment I was out of my time I started in the street nut trade for myself. I knew the profits of it, and thought it better than the slavery of a journeyman baker’s life. You’ve mentioned, sir, in your work, a musical sort of a street-crier of gingerbread (see p. 160), and I think, and indeed I’m pretty certain, that it’s the same man as was my partner 20 years back; aye, more than 20, but I can’t tell about years.” [The reader will have remarked how frequently this oblivion as to dates and periods characterises the statements of street-sellers. Perhaps no men take less note of time.] “At that time he was my partner in the pig trade. Dairy-fed, d’you say, sir? Not in the slightest. The outsides of the hanimals was paste, and the insides on ’em was all mince-meat. Their eyes was currants. We two was the original pigs, and, I believe, the only two pigs in the streets. We often made 15_s._ between us, in a day, in pigs alone. The musical man, as you call him--poor fellow, he dropped down dead in the street one day as he was crying; he was regular worn out--cried himself into his grave you _may_ say--poor fellow, he used to sing out
‘Here’s a long-tailed pig, and a short-tailed pig, And a pig with a curly tail: Here’s a Yorkshire pig, and a Hampshire pig, And a pig without e’er a tail.’
“When I was first in the trade, I sold twice as many nuts as I do now, though my nuts was only 12 a penny then, and they’re now 40. A little larger the 12 were, but not very much. I have taken 20_s._ and 24_s._ many and many a Saturday. I then made from 2_l._ to 2_l._ 10_s._ a week by sticking to it, and money might have been saved. I’ve taken between 7_l._ and 8_l._ at a Greenwich Fair in the three days, in them times, by myself. Indeed, last Easter, my wife and me--for she works as well as I do, and sells almost as much--took 5_l._ But gingerbread was money in the old times, and I sold ‘lumps’ as well as ‘nuts;’ but now lumps won’t go off--not in a fair, no how. I’ve been in the trade ever since I started in it, but I’ve had turns at other things. I was in the service of a Custom-house agency firm; but they got into bother about contrabands, and the revenue, and cut off to America--I believe they took money with them, a good bit of it--and I was indicted, or whatever they call it, in the Court of Exchequer--I never was in the Court in my life--and was called upon, one fine day, to pay to the Crown 1,580_l._, and some odd pounds and shillings besides! I never understood the rights of it, but it was about smuggling. I was indicted by myself, I believe. When Mr. Candy, and other great houses in the City, were found out that way, _they_ made it all right; paid something, as I’ve heard, and sacked the profits. Well; when _I_ was called on, it wasn’t, I assure you, sir--ha, ha, ha!--at all convenient for a servant--and I was only that--to pay the fifteen hundred and odd; so I served 12 months and 2 days in prison for it. I’d saved a little money, and wasn’t so uncomfortable in prison. I could get a dinner, and give a dinner. When I came out, I took to the nuts. It was lucky for me that I had a trade to turn to; for, even if I could have shown I wasn’t at all to blame about the Exchequer, I could never have got another situation--never. So the streets saved me: my nuts was my bread.
“At this present time, sir, if I make, the year through, 9_s._ a week, and my wife 1_s._ or 2_s._ less, that’s the extent. When the Queen opened Parliament, the two on us took 10_s._ The Queen’s good for that, anyhow, in person. If the opening was by proclamation” [so he called it, three or four times], “it wouldn’t have been worth while going to--not at all. If there’s not a crowd, the police interfere, and ‘move on!’ is the order. The Queen’s popular with me, for her opening Parliament herself. I count it her duty. The police are a great trouble. I can’t say they disturb me in the place (never mind mentioning it, sir) where you’ve seen me, but they do in other places. They say there’s no rest for the wicked; but, in the streets, there’s no rest for a man trying to make an honest living, as I’m sure I do. I could pitch anywhere, one time.
“My chief dependence is on working-men, who buys my nuts to take home to their young ’uns. I never sell for parties, or desserts, that I know of. I take very little from boys--very little. The women of the town buy hardly any of me. I used to sell a good many pigs to them, in some of the streets about Brunswick-square; kept misses, and such like--and very pleasant customers they was, and good pay: but that’s all over now. _They_ never ’bated me--never.”
To make about 56 lbs. of the gingerbread-nuts sold by my informant, takes 28 lbs. of treacle, 7_s._; 48 lbs. of flour, 14_s._; 1/2 lb. of ginger, 4_d._; and 1/2 lb. of allspice, 4_d._ From 18 to 20 dozen of small nuts go to the pound. This quantity, at 40 a penny, reckoning 18 dozen to a pound, realises about 5_d._ per pound; or about 25_s._ for an outlay of 11_s._ 8_d._ The expense of baking, however, and of “appurtenances,” reduces the profit to little more than cent. per cent.
The other nut-sellers in the streets vend the “almond nuts.” Of these vendors there are not less than 150; of them, 100 buy their goods of the bakers (what they sell for 1_s._ costing them 4_d._), and the other 50 make their own. The materials are the same as those of the gingerbread, with the addition of 4 lbs. of butter, 8_d._ per lb.; 1 lb. of almonds, 1_s._ 4_d._; and 2 lbs. of volatile salts, 8_d._ Out of this material, 60 lbs. of “almond nuts” may be made. A split almond is placed in the centre of each of these nuts; and, as they are three times as large as the gingerbread nuts, 12 a penny is the price. To sell 36 dozen a day--and so clearing 2_s._--is accounted a “very tidy day’s work.” With the drawback of wet weather, the average weekly earnings of the almond nut-sellers are, perhaps, the same as the gingerbread nut man’s--9_s._ weekly. These almond nut-sellers are, for the most part, itinerant, their localities of sale being the same as in the “cake and tart” line. They carry their goods, neatly done up in paper, on trays slung from the shoulder. The gingerbread-nuts are carried in a large basket, and are ready packed in paper bags.
Some of the “almond” men call at the public-houses, but the sale in such places is very small. Most of those who make their own nuts have been brought up as bakers--a class of workmen who seem to resort and adapt themselves to a street trade more readily than others. The nuts are baked in the usual way, spread on tin trays. To erect a proper oven for the purpose costs about 5_l._, but most of the men hire the use of one.
I have already specified the materials required to make 56 lb. of gingerbread nuts, the cost being 11_s._ 8_d._ To that, the capital required to start in the business must be added, and this consists of basket, 6_s._; baize cloth, 1_s._; pan for dough, 1_s._; rolling-pin, 3_d._, and baking-tins, 1_s._ In all about 21_s._ To begin in a small way in the “almond” line, buying the nuts ready made, requires as capital: tray, 2_s._; leather strap, 6_d._; baize, 1_s._; stock-money, 1_s._ 6_d._--in all 5_s._ The sale is prosecuted through the year, but hot weather is unfavourable to it, as the nuts then turn soft.
Calculating that 150 of these street-dealers take 17_s._ each weekly (clearing 9_s._), we find 6,630_l._ spent yearly in “spice” nuts in the streets of London.
OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF HOT-CROSS BUNS, AND OF CHELSEA BUNS.
Perhaps no cry--though it is only for one morning--is more familiar to the ears of a Londoner, than that of “One-a-penny, two-a-penny, hot-cross buns,” on Good Friday. The sale is unknown in the Irish capital; for among Roman Catholics, Good Friday, I need hardly say, is a strict fast, and the eggs in the buns prevent their being used. One London gentleman, who spoke of fifty years ago, told me that the street-bun-sellers used to have a not unpleasing distich. On reflection, however, my informant could not be certain whether he had heard this distich cried, or had remembered hearing the elders of his family speak of it as having been cried, or how it was impressed upon his memory. It seems hardly in accordance with the usual style of street poetry:--
“One-a-penny, two-a-penny, hot-cross buns! If your daughters will not eat them, give them to your sons. But if you hav’n’t any of those pretty little elves, You cannot then do better than eat them all yourselves.”
A tradesman who had resided more than fifty years in the Borough had, in his boyhood, heard, but not often, this ridiculous cry:--
“One-a-penny, poker; two-a-penny, tongs! One-a-penny; two-a-penny, hot-cross buns.”
The sellers of the Good Friday buns are principally boys, and they are of mixed classes--costers’ boys, boys habitually and boys occasionally street-sellers, and boys street-sellers for that occasion only. One great inducement to embark in the trade is the hope of raising a little money for the Greenwich Fair of the following Monday.
I am informed that 500 persons are employed on Good Friday in the streets of London in the sale of hot-cross buns, each itinerant selling upon the day’s average six dozen halfpenny, and seven dozen penny buns, for which he will take 12_s._ 6_d._ (his profits being 3_d._ in the shilling or 3_s._ 1-1/2_d._). One person informed me that last Good Friday he had sold during the day forty dozen penny buns, for which he received 50_s._
The bun-selling itinerants derive their supplies principally from the wholesale pastry-cooks, and, in a less degree, from the small bakers and pastrycooks, who work more for “the trade” than themselves. The street hot-cross bun trade is less than it was seven or eight years ago, as the bakers have entered into it more freely, and send round for orders: so that the itinerants complain that they have lost many a good customer. One informant (a master pastry-cook, who had been in the business nearly fifty years) said to me: “Times are sadly altered to what they were when I was a boy. Why I have known my master to bake five sacks of flour in nothing but hot-cross buns, and that is sufficient for 20,000 buns” (one sack of flour being used for 4,000 buns, or 500 lbs. of raw material to the same quantity of buns). The itinerants carry their baskets slung on their arm, or borne upon the head. A flannel or green baize is placed at the bottom of the basket and brought over the buns, after which a white cloth is spread over the top of the baize, to give it a clean appearance.
A vendor of “hot-cross buns” has to provide himself with a basket, a flannel (to keep the buns warm), and a cloth, to give a clean appearance to his commodities. These articles, if bought for the purpose, cost--basket, 2_s._ 6_d._; flannel and cloth, 2_s._; stock-money, average, 5_s._ (largest amount 15_s._, smallest 2_s._ 6_d._); or about 10_s._ in all.
There is expended in one day, in hot-cross buns purchased in the London streets, 300_l._, and nearly 100,000 buns thus bought.
The Chelsea buns are now altogether superseded by the Bath and Alexander’s buns. “People,” the street-sellers say, “want so much for their money.” There are now but two Chelsea bun-houses; the one at Pimlico, and the other at Chelsea. The principal times Chelsea buns were sold in the streets was Good Friday, Easter, and Whitsuntide; and, with the exception of Good Friday, the great sales were at Greenwich Fair, and then they were sold with other cakes and sweetmeats. I am informed that twenty years ago there was one man, with a rich musical voice, who sold these buns, about Westminster principally, all the year round; his cry--which was one of the musical ones--was, “One a penny, two a penny, hot Chelsea buns! Burning hot! smoking hot! r-r-r-reeking hot! hot Chelsea buns!”
OF MUFFIN AND CRUMPET-SELLING IN THE STREETS.