Suspected characters 1,440
2,412
Under the class of persons proceeded against summarily there are:—
Known thieves 2,850
Prostitutes 7,381
Vagrants, tramps, &c 2,888
Suspicious characters 7,044
Habitual drunkards 3,661
23,824
A number of these parties have appeared repeatedly before the Police Courts during the year.
In the return for the month of September, 1860, we find the following statement of depredators, offenders, and suspected persons at large within the districts of the police:—
Known thieves and depredators 2,906
Prostitutes 6,881
Suspicious characters 1,770
Vagrants and tramps 1,461
In all, 13,018
The average number of persons roaming as thieves over the metropolis committing depredations may be safely estimated at from 12,000 to 15,000; a huge army living on the industry of the community.
The amount of property abstracted in the Metropolitan districts for the year 1860 £ 62,095
Ditto ditto in the City 9,508
£71,603
This does not give the full amount of the depredations committed by the robbers of the metropolis, as many felonies are not included in the police returns.
In writing this account of the state of crime in London, we have received valuable assistance throughout from the city and metropolitan police force. We have to acknowledge our obligations generally to Sir Richard Mayne and Mr. Yardley at Scotland Yard, and specially to Mr. Jones, of Tower Street Police Station, Lambeth, for information on common thieves; to Mr. Whyte of Marylebone Station on skeleton-key and attic thieves; to Serjeant McVitti of Hoxton; Mr. Ackrill of Fleet Street, and Mr. Jones of Tower Street on pickpockets; to Inspector Foulger of the City police; Mr. Knight, of Fleet Street, and Serjeant Potter of Paddington Station on burglars, forgers, magsmen and skittle-sharps; to Mr. Brennan on coiners; to Inspector Broad of Spitalfields Station on highway robbers; to Inspector Hunt on embezzlers; to Mr. Stubbs on swindlers; and to numerous other officers of the city and metropolitan police for their generous and cordial aid.
THE SNEAKS, OR COMMON THIEVES.
THE COMMON thief is not distinguished for manual dexterity and accomplishment, like the pickpocket or mobsman, nor for courage, ingenuity, and skill, like the burglar, but is characterized by low cunning and stealth—hence he is termed the Sneak, and is despised by the higher classes of thieves.
There are various orders of Sneaks—from the urchin stealing an apple at a stall, to the man who enters a dwelling by the area or an attic window and carries off the silver plate.
In treating of the various classes of common thieves and their different modes of felony, we shall first treat of the juvenile thieves and their delinquencies, and notice the other classes in their order, according to the progressive nature and aggravation of their crime.
Street-stalls.—In wandering along Whitechapel we see ranges of stalls on both sides of the street, extending from the neighbourhood of the Minories to Whitechapel church. Various kinds of merchandize are exposed to sale. There are stalls for fruit, vegetables, and oysters. There are also stalls where fancy goods are exposed for sale—combs, brushes, chimney-ornaments, children’s toys, and common articles of jewellery. We find middle-aged women standing with baskets of firewood, and Cheap Johns selling various kinds of Sheffield cutlery, stationery, and plated goods.
It is an interesting sight to saunter along the New Cut, Lambeth, and to observe the street stalls of that locality. Here you see some old Irish woman, with apples and pears exposed on a small board placed on the top of a barrel, while she is seated on an upturned bushel basket smoking her pipe.
Alongside you notice a deal board on the top of a tressel, and an Irish girl of 18 years of age seated on a small three-legged stool, shouting in shrill tones “Apples, fine apples, ha’penny a lot!”
You find another stall on the top of two tressels, with a larger quantity of apples and pears, kept by a woman who sits by with a child at her breast.
In another place you see a costermonger’s barrow, with large green and yellow piles of fruit of better quality than the others, and a group of boys and girls assembled around him as he smartly disposes of penny-worths to the persons passing along the street.
Outside a public-house you see a young man, humpbacked, with a basket of herrings and haddocks standing on the pavement, calling “Yarmouth herrings—three a-penny!” and at the door of a beershop with the sign of the “Pear Tree” we find a miserable looking old woman selling cresses, seated on a stool with her feet in an old basket.
As we wander along the New Cut during the day, we do not see so many young thieves loitering about; but in the evening when the lamps are lit, they steal forth from their haunts, with keen roguish eye, looking out for booty. We then see them loitering about the stalls or mingling among the throng of people in the street, looking wistfully on the tempting fruit displayed on the stalls.
These young Arabs of the city have a very strange and motley appearance. Many of them are only 6 or 7 years of age, others 8 or 10. Some have no jacket, cap, or shoes, and wander about London with their ragged trowsers hung by one brace; some have an old tattered coat, much too large for them, without shoes and stockings, and with one leg of the trowsers rolled up to the knee; others have on an old greasy grey or black cap, with an old jacket rent at the elbows, and strips of the lining hanging down behind; others have on an old dirty pinafore; while some have petticoats. They are generally in a squalid and unwashed condition, with their hair clustered in wild disorder like a mop, or hanging down in dishevelled locks,—in some cases cropped close to the head.
Groups of these ragged urchins may be seen standing at the corners of the streets and in public thoroughfares, with blacking-boxes slung on their back by a leathern belt, or crouching in groups on the pavement; or we may occasionally see them running alongside of omnibuses, cabs, and hansoms, nimbly turning somersaults on the pavement as they scamper along, and occasionally walking on their hands with their feet in the air in our fashionable streets, to the merriment of the passers-by. Most of them are Irish cockneys, which we can observe in their features and accent—to which class most of the London thieves belong. They are generally very acute and ready-witted, and have a knowing twinkle in their eye which exhibits the precocity of their minds.
As we ramble along the New Cut in the dusk, mingled in the throng on the crowded street, chiefly composed of working people, the young ragged thieves may be seen stealing forth: their keen eye readily recognizes the police-officers proceeding in their rounds, as well as the detective officers in their quiet and cautious movements. They seldom steal from costermongers, but frequently from the old women’s stalls. One will push an old woman off her seat—perhaps a bushel basket, while the others will steal her fruit or the few coppers lying on her stall. This is done by day as well as by night, but chiefly in the dusk of the evening.
They generally go in a party of three or four, sometimes as many as eight together. Watching their opportunity, they make a sudden snatch at the apples or pears, or oranges or nuts, or walnuts, as the case may be, then run off, with the cry of “stop thief!” ringing in their ears from the passers-by. These petty thefts are often done from a love of mischief rather than from a desire for plunder.
When overtaken by a police-officer, they in general readily go with him to the police-station. Sometimes the urchin will lie down in the street and cry “let me go!” and the bystanders will take his part. This is of frequent occurrence in the neighbourhood of the New-cut and the Waterloo-road—a well-known rookery of young thieves in London.
By the petty thefts at the fruit-stalls they do not gain much money—seldom so much as to get admittance to the gallery of the Victoria Theatre, which they delight to frequent. They are particularly interested in the plays of robberies, burglaries, and murders performed there, which are done in me
lodramatic style. There are similar fruit-stalls in the other densely populated districts of the metropolis.
In the Mile-end-road, and New North-road, and occasionally in other streets in different localities of London, common jewellery is exposed for sale, consisting of brooches, rings, bracelets, breast-pins, watch-chains, eye-glasses, ear-rings and studs, &c. There are also stalls for the sale of china, looking-glasses, combs, and chimney-ornaments. The thefts from these are generally managed in this way:—
One goes up and looks at some trifling article in company with his associates. The party in charge of the stall—generally a woman—knowing their thieving propensity, tells them to go away; which they decline to do. When the woman goes to remove him, another boy darts forward at the other end of the stall and steals some article of jewellery, or otherwise, while her attention is thus distracted.
These juvenile thieves are chiefly to be found in Lucretia-street, Lambeth; Union-street, Borough-road; Gunn-street, and Friars-street, Blackfriars-road; also at Whitechapel, St. Giles’s, Drury-lane, Somers Town, Anderson Grove, and other localities.
The statistics connected with this class of felonies will be given when we come to treat on “Stealing from the doors and windows of shops.”
Stealing from the Tills.—This is done by the same class of boys, generally by two or three, or more, associated together. It is committed at any hour of the day, principally in the evening, and generally in the following way: One of the boys throws his cap into the shop of some green-grocer or other small dealer, in the absence of the person in charge; another boy, often without shoes or stockings, creeps in on his hands and knees as if to fetch it, being possibly covered from without by some of the boys standing beside the shop-door, who is also on the look-out. Any passerby seeing the cap thrown in would take no particular notice in most cases, as it merely appears to be a thoughtless boyish frolic. Meantime the young rogue within the shop crawls round the counter to the till, and rifles its contents.
If detected, he possibly says, “Let me go; I have done nothing. That boy who is standing outside and has just run away threw in my bonnet, and I came to fetch it.” When discovered by the shopkeeper, the boy will occasionally be allowed to get away, as the loss may not be known till afterwards.
Sometimes one of these ragged urchins watches a favourable opportunity and steals from the till while his comrade is observing the movements of the people passing by and the police, without resorting to the ingenious expedient of throwing in the cap.
The shop tills are generally rifled by boys, in most cases by two or more in company; this is only done occasionally. It is confined chiefly to the districts where the working classes reside.
In some cases, though rarely, a lad of 17 or 19 years of age or upwards, will reach his hand over the counter to the till, in the absence of the person in charge of the shop.
These robberies are not very numerous, and are of small collective value.
Stealing from the Doors and Windows of Shops.—In various shopping districts of London we see a great variety of goods displayed for sale at the different shop-doors and windows, and on the pavement in front of the shops of brokers, butchers, grocers, milliners, &c.
Let us take a picture from the New-cut, Lambeth. We observe many brokers’ shops along the street, with a heterogenous assortment of household furniture, tables, chairs, looking-glasses, plain and ornamental, cupboards, fire-screens, &c., ranged along the broad pavement; while on tables are stores of carpenters’ tools in great variety, copper-kettles, brushes, and bright tin pannikins, and other articles.
We see the dealer standing before his door, with blue apron, hailing the passer-by to make a purchase. Upon stands on the pavement at each side of his shop-door are cheeses of various kinds and of different qualities, cut up into quarters and slices, and rashers of bacon lying in piles in the open windows, or laid out on marble slabs. On deal racks are boxes of eggs, “fresh from the country,” and white as snow, and large pieces of bacon, ticketed as of “fine flavour,” and “very mild.”
Alongside is a milliner’s shop with the milliner, a smart young woman, seated knitting beneath an awning in front of her door. On iron and wooden rods, suspended on each side of the door-way, are black and white straw bonnets and crinolines, swinging in the wind; while on the tables in front are exposed boxes of gay feathers, and flowers of every tint, and fronts of shirts of various styles, with stacks of gownpieces of various patterns.
A green-grocer stands by his shop with a young girl of 17 by his side. On each side of the door are baskets of apples, with large boxes of onions and peas. Cabbages are heaped at the front of the shop, with piles of white turnips and red carrots.
Over the street is a furniture wareroom. Beneath the canvas awning before the shop are chairs of various kinds, straw-bottomed and seated with green or puce-coloured leather, fancy looking-glasses in gilt frames, parrots in cages, a brass-mounted portmanteau, and other miscellaneous articles. An active young shopman is seated by the shop-door, in a light cap and dark apron—with newspaper in hand.
Near the Victoria Theatre we notice a second-hand clothes store. On iron rods suspended over the doorway we find trowsers, vests, and coats of all patterns and sizes, and of every quality dangling in the wind; and on small wooden stands along the pavement are jackets and coats of various descriptions. Here are corduroy jackets, ticketed “15s. and 16s. made to order.” Corduroy trowsers warranted “first rate,” at 7s. 6d. Fustian trowsers to order for 8s. 6d.; while dummies are ranged on the pavement with coats buttoned upon them, inviting us to enter the shop.
In the vicinity we see stalls of workmen’s iron tools of various kinds—some old and rusty, others bright and new.
Thefts are often committed from the doors and windows of these shops during the day, in the temporary absence of the person in charge. They are often seen by passers-by, who take no notice, not wishing to attend the police court, as they consider they are insufficiently paid for it.
The coat is usually stolen from the dummy in this way: one boy is posted on the opposite side of the street to see if a police-officer is in sight, or a policeman in plain clothes, who might detect the depredation. Another stands two or three yards from the shop. The third comes up to the dummy, and pretends to look at the quality of the coat to throw off the suspicion of any bystander or passer-by. He then unfastens the button, and if the shopkeeper or any of his assistants come out, he walks away. If he finds that he is not seen by the people in the shop, he takes the coat off the dummy and runs away with it.
If seen, he will not return at that time, but watches some other convenient opportunity. When the young thief is chased by the shopkeeper, his two associates run and jostle him, and try to trip him up, so as to give their companion an opportunity of escaping. This is generally done at dusk, in the winter time, when thieving is most prevalent in those localities.
In stealing a piece of bacon from the shop-doors or windows, they wait till the shopman turns his back, when they take a piece of bacon or cheese in the same way as in the case alluded to. This is commonly done by two or more boys in company.
Handkerchiefs at shop-doors are generally stolen by one of the boys and passed to another who runs off with it. When hotly chased, they drop the handkerchief and run away.
These young thieves are the ragged boys formerly noticed, varying from 9 to 14 years of age, without shoes or stockings. Their parents are of the lowest order of Irish cockneys, or they live in low lodging-houses, where they get a bed for 2d. or 3d. a night, with crowds of others as destitute as themselves.
There are numbers of young women of 18 years of age and upwards, Irish cockneys, belonging to the same class, who steal from these shop-doors. They are poorly dressed, and live in some of the lowest streets in Surrey and Middlesex, but chiefly in the Borough and the East end. Some of them are dressed in a clean cotton dress, shabby bonnet and faded shawl, and are accompanied by one or more men, costermongers in appearance. They steal rolls
of printed cotton from the outside of linen drapers’ shops, rolls of flannel, and of coarse calico, hearthrugs and rolls of oilskin and table-covers; and from brokers’ shops they carry off rolls of carpet, fenders, fire-irons, and other articles, exposed in and around the shop-door. The thefts of these women are of greater value than those committed by the boys. They belong to the felon-class and are generally expert thieves.
The mode in which they commit these thefts is by taking advantage of the absence of the person in charge of the shop, or when his back is turned. It is done very quickly and dexterously, and they are often successful in carrying away articles such as those named without any one observing them.
Another class of Sneaks, who steal from the outsides of shops, are women more advanced in life than those referred to,—some middle-aged and others elderly. Some of them are thieves, or the companions of thieves, and others are the wives of honest, hard-working mechanics and labouring men, who spend their money in gin and beer at various public-houses.
These persons go and look over some pieces of bacon or meat outside of butchers’ shops; they ask the price of it, sometimes buy a small piece and steal a large one, but more frequently buy none. They watch the opportunity of taking a large piece which they slip into their basket and carry to some small chandler’s shop in a low neighbourhood, where they dispose of it at about a fourth of its value.
We have met some thieves of this order, basket in hand, returning from Drury Lane, who were pointed out to us by a detective officer.
The mechanics’ and labourers’ wives in many cases leave their homes in the morning for the purpose of purchasing their husband’s dinner. They meet with other women fond of drink like themselves. They meet, for example, outside the “Plumb Tree,” or such-like public-house, and join their money together to buy beer or gin. After partaking of it, they leave the house, and remain for some time outside conversing together. They again join their money and return to the public-house, and have some addi–tional liquor : leave the house and separate. Some of them join with other parties fond of liquor as they did with the former. One says to the other: “I have no money, otherwise we would have a drop of gin. I have just met Mrs. So-and-so, and spent nearly all my money.” The other may reply: “I have not much to get the old man’s dinner, but we can have a quartern of gin.” After getting the liquor, they separate. The tradesman’s wife, finding that she has spent nearly the whole of her money, goes to a cheesemonger’s or butcher’s shop, and steals a piece of meat, or bacon, for the purpose of placing it before her husband for dinner, perhaps selling the remainder of the booty at shops in low neighbourhoods, or to lodging-houses.
The London Underworld in the Victorian Period: Authentic First-Person Accounts by Beggars, Thieves and Prostitutes: v. 1 Page 17
