London Labour and the London Poor: Selection (Classics)

by Henry Mayhew

  The washing among the chimney-sweepers of the present day, when there are scarcely any climbing-boys, is so much an individual matter that it is not possible to speak with any great degree of certainty on the subject, but that it increases may be concluded from the fact that the number of sweeps who resort to the public baths increases.

  The first public baths and washhouses opened in London were in the ‘north-west district’, and situated in George-street, Euston-square, near the Hampstead-road. This establishment was founded by voluntary contribution in 1846, and is now self-supporting.

  There are three more public baths: one in Goulston-street, Whitechapel (on the same principle as that first established); another in St Martin’s, near the National Gallery, which are parochial; and the last in Marylebone, near the Yorkshire Stingo tavern, New-road, also parochial. The charge for a cold bath, each being secluded from the others, is 1d., with the use of a towel; a warm bath is 2d. in the third class. The following is the return of the number of bathers at the north-west district baths, the establishment most frequented:

  1847

  1848

  1849

  1850

  Bathers

  110,940

  111,788

  96,726

  86,597

  Washers, Dryers, Ironers,&c.

  39,418

  61,690

  65,934

  73,023

  Individuals Washed for

  137,672

  246,760

  263,736

  292,092

  I endeavoured to ascertain the proportion of sweepers, with other working men, who availed themselves of these baths; but there are unfortunately no data for instituting a comparison as to the relative cleanliness of the several trades. When the baths were first opened an endeavour was made to obtain such a return; but it was found to be distasteful to the bathers, and so was discontinued. We find, then, that in four years there have been 406,051 bathers. The following gives the proportion between the sexes, a portion of 1846 being included:

  Bathers – Males

  417,424

  – Females

  47,114

  ______

  – Total bathers

  464,538

  The falling off in the number of bathers at this establishment is, I am told, attributable to the opening of new baths, the people, of course, resorting to the nearest.

  I have given the return of washers, &c., as I endeavoured to ascertain the proportion of washing by the chimney-sweeper’s wives; but there is no specification of the trades of the persons using this branch of the establishment any more than there is of those frequenting the baths, and for the same reason as prevented its being done among the bathers. One of the attendants at these washhouses told me that he had no doubt the sweepers’ wives did wash there, for he had more than once seen a sweeper waiting to carry home the clothes his wife had cleansed. As no questions concerning their situation in life are asked of the poor women who resort to these very excellent institutions (for such they appear to be on a cursory glance) of course no data can be supplied. This is to be somewhat regretted; but a regard to the feelings, and in some respects to the small prejudices, of the industrious poor is to be commended rather than otherwise, and the managers of these baths certainly seem to have manifested such a regard.

  I am informed, however, by the secretary of the north-west district institution, that in some weeks of the summer 80 chimney-sweepers bathed there; always having, he believed, warm baths, which are more effective in removing soot or dirt from the skin than cold. Summer, it must be remembered, is the sweep’s ‘brisk’ season. In a winter week as few as 25 or 20 have bathed, but the weekly average of sweeper-bathers, the year through, is about 50; and the number of sweeper-bathers, he thought, had increased since the opening of the baths about 10 per cent, yearly. As in 1850 the average number of bathers of all classes did not exceed 1646 per week, the proportion of sweepers, 50, is high. The number of female bathers is about one-ninth, so that the males would be about 1480; and the 50 sweepers a week constitute about a thirtieth part of the whole of the third-class bathers. The number of sweep-bathers was known because a sweep is known by his appearance.

  I was told by the secretary that the sweepers, the majority bathing on Saturday nights, usually carried a bundle to the bath; this contained their ‘clean things’. After bathing they assumed their ‘Sunday clothes’; and from the change in their appearance between ingress and egress, they were hardly recognisable as the same individuals.

  In the other baths, where also there is no specification of the bathers, I am told, that of sweepers bathing the number (on computation) is 30 at Marylebone, 25 at Goulston-street, and 15 (at the least) at St Martin’s, as a weekly average. In all, 120 sweepers bathe weekly, or about a seventh of the entire working body. The increase at the three baths last mentioned, in sweepers bathing, is from 5 to 10 per cent.

  Among the lower-class sweepers there are but few who wash themselves even once throughout the year. They eat, drink, and sleep in the same state of filth and dirt as when engaged in their daily avocation. Others, however, among the better class are more cleanly in their habits, and wash themselves every night.

  CROSSING-SWEEPERS

  [pp. 527–8] That portion of the London street-folk who earn a scanty living by sweeping crossings constitute a large class of the Metropolitan poor. We can scarcely walk along a street of any extent, or pass through a square of the least pretensions to ‘gentility’, without meeting one or more of these private scavengers. Crossing-sweeping seems to be one of those occupations which are resorted to as an excuse for begging; and, indeed, as many expressed it to me, ‘it was the last chance left of obtaining an honest crust’.

  The advantages of crossing-sweeping as a means of livelihood seem to be:

  1st, the smallness of the capital required in order to commence the business:

  2ndly, the excuse the apparent occupation it affords for soliciting gratuities without being considered in the light of a street-beggar;

  And 3rdly, the benefits arising from being constantly seen in the same place, and thus exciting the sympathy of the neighbouring householders, till small weekly allowances or ‘pensions’ are obtained.

  The first curious point in connexion with this subject is what constitutes the ‘property’, so to speak, in a crossing, or the right to sweep a pathway across a certain thoroughfare. A nobleman, who has been one of her Majesty’s Ministers, whilst conversing with me on the subject of crossing-sweepers, expressed to me the curiosity he felt on the subject, saying that he had noticed some of the sweepers in the same place for years. ‘What were the rights of property,’ he asked, ‘in such cases, and what constituted the title that such a man had to a particular crossing? Why did not the stronger sweeper supplant the weaker? Could a man bequeath a crossing to a son, or present it to a friend? How did he first obtain the spot?’

  The answer is, that crossing-sweepers are, in a measure, under the protection of the police. If the accommodation afforded by a well-swept pathway is evident, the policeman on that district will protect the original sweeper of the crossing from the intrusion of a rival. I have, indeed, met with instances of men who, before taking to a crossing, have asked for and obtained permission of the police; and one sweeper, who gave me his statement, had even solicited the authority of the inhabitants before he applied to the inspector at the station-house.

  If a crossing have been vacant for some time, another sweeper may take to it; but should the original proprietor again make his appearance, the officer on duty will generally re-establish him. One man to whom I spoke, had fixed himself on a crossing which for years another sweeper had kept clean on the Sunday morning only. A dispute ensued; the one claimant pleading his long Sabbath possession, and the other his continuous everyday service. The quarrel was referred to the police, who decided that he who was oftener on the ground was the rightful owner; and the option was given to the former possessor, that i
f he would sweep there every day the crossing should be his.

  I believe there is only one crossing in London which is in the gift of a householder, and this proprietorship originated in a tradesman having, at his own expense, caused a paved footway to be laid down over the Macadamized road in front of his shop, so that his customers might run less chance of dirtying their boots when they crossed over to give their orders.

  Some bankers, however, keep a crossing-sweeper, not only to sweep a clean path for the ‘clients’ visiting their house, but to open and shut the doors of the carriages calling at the house.

  Concerning the causes which lead or drive people to this occupation, they are various. People take to crossing-sweeping either on account of their bodily afflictions, depriving them of the power of performing ruder work, or because the occupation is the last resource left open to them of earning a living, and they considered even the scanty subsistence it yields preferable to that of the workhouse. The greater proportion of crossing-sweepers are those who, from some bodily infirmity or injury, are prevented from a more laborious mode of obtaining their living. Among the bodily infirmities the chief are old age, asthma, and rheumatism; and the injuries mostly consist of loss of limbs. Many of the rheumatic sweepers have been brick-layers’ labourers.

  The classification of crossing-sweepers is not very complex. They may be divided into the casual and the regular.

  By the casual I mean such as pursue the occupation only on certain days in the week, as, for instance, those who make their appearance on the Sunday morning, as well as the boys who, broom in hand, travel about the streets, sweeping before the foot-passengers or stopping an hour at one place, and then, if not fortunate, moving on to another.

  The regular crossing-sweepers are those who have taken up their posts at the corners of streets or squares; and I have met with some who have kept to the same spot for more than forty years.

  The crossing-sweepers in the squares may be reckoned among the most fortunate of the class. With them the crossing is a kind of stand, where any one requiring their services knows they may be found. These sweepers are often employed by the butlers and servants in the neighbouring mansions for running errands, posting letters, and occasionally helping in the packing-up and removal of furniture or boxes when the family goes out of town. I have met with other sweepers who, from being known for years to the inhabitants, have at last got to be regularly employed at some of the houses to clean knives, boots, windows, &c.

  It is not at all an unfrequent circumstance, however, for a sweeper to be in receipt of a weekly sum from some of the inhabitants in the district. The crossing itself is in these cases but of little value for chance customers, for were it not for the regular charity of the householders, it would be deserted. Broken victuals and old clothes also form part of a sweeper’s means of living; nor are the clothes always old ones, for one or two of this class have for years been in the habit of having new suits presented to them by the neighbours at Christmas.

  The irregular sweepers mostly consist of boys and girls who have formed themselves into a kind of company, and come to an agreement to work together on the same crossings. The principal resort of these is about Trafalgar-square, where they have seized upon some three or four crossings, which they visit from time to time in the course of the day.

  One of these gangs I found had appointed its king and captain, though the titles were more honorary than privileged. They had framed their own laws repecting each one’s right to the money he took, and the obedience to these laws was enforced by the strength of the little fraternity.

  One or two girls whom I questioned, told me that they mixed up ballad-singing or lace-selling with crossing-sweeping, taking to the broom only when the streets were wet and muddy. These children are usually sent out by their parents, and have to carry home at night their earnings. A few of them are orphans with a lodging-house for a home.

  Taken as a class, crossing-sweepers are among the most honest of the London poor. They all tell you that, without a good character and ‘the respect of the neighbourhood’, there is not a living to be got out of the broom. Indeed, those whom I found best-to-do in the world were those who had been longest at their posts.

  Among them are many who have been servants until sickness or accident deprived them of their situations, and nearly all of them have had their minds so subdued by affliction, that they have been tamed so as to be incapable of mischief.

  The earnings, or rather ‘takings’, of crossing-sweepers are difficult to estimate – generally speaking – that is, to strike the average for the entire class. An erroneous idea prevails that crossing-sweeping is a lucrative employment. All whom I have spoken with agree in saying, that some thirty years back it was a good living; but they bewail piteously the spirit of the present generation. I have met with some who, in former days, took their 3l. weekly; and there are but few I have spoken to who would not, at one period, have considered fifteen shillings a bad week’s work. But now ‘the takings’ are very much reduced. The man who was known to this class as having been the most prosperous of all – for from one nobleman alone he received an allowance of seven shillings and sixpence weekly – assured me that twelve shillings a week was the average of his present gains, taking the year round; whilst the majority of the sweepers agree that a shilling is a good day’s earnings.

  A shilling a day is the very limit of the average incomes of the London sweepers, and this is rather an over than an under calculation; for, although a few of the more fortunate, who are to be found in the squares or main thoroughfares or opposite the public buildings, may earn their twelve or fifteen shillings a week, yet there are hundreds who are daily to be found in the by-streets of the metropolis who assert that eightpence a day is their average taking; and, indeed, in proof of their poverty, they refer you to the workhouse authorities, who allow them certain quartern-loaves weekly. The old stories of delicate suppers and stockings full of money have in the present day no foundation of truth.

  The black crossing-sweeper, who bequeathed 500l. to Miss Waithman, would almost seem to be the last of the class whose earnings were above his positive necessities.

  Lastly, concerning the numbers belonging to this large class, we may add that it is difficult to reckon up the number of crossing-sweepers in London. There are few squares without a couple of these pathway scavengers; and in the more respectable squares, such as Cavendish or Portman, every corner has been seized upon. Again, in the principal thoroughfares, nearly every street has its crossing and attendant.

  The Maimed Irish Crossing-sweeper

  [pp. 559–60] He stands at the corner of — street, where the yellow omnibuses stop, and refers to himself every now and then as the ‘poor lame man’. He has no especial mode of addressing the passers-by, except that of hobbling a step or two towards them and sweeping away an imaginary accumulation of mud. He has lost one leg (from the knee) by a fall from a scaffold, while working as a bricklayer’s labourer in Wales, some six years ago; and speaks bitterly of the hard time he had of it when he first

  THE CROSSING-SWEEPER THAT HAS BEEN A MAID-SERVANT.

  came to London, and hobbled about selling matches. He says he is thirty-six, but looks more than fifty; and his face has the ghastly expression of death. He wears the ordinary close cloth street-cap and corduroy trousers. Even during the warm weather he wears an upper coat – a rough thick garment, fit for the Arctic regions. It was very difficult to make him understand my object in getting information from him: he thought that he had nothing to tell, and laid great stress upon the fact of his never keeping ‘count’ of anything.

  He accounted for his miserably small income by stating that he was an invalid – ‘now and thin continually’. He said –

  ‘I can ‘t say how long I have been on this crossin’; I think about five year. When I came on it there had been no one here before. No one interferes with me at all, at all. I niver hard of a crossin’ bein’ sould; but I don’t know any other sweepers. I m
akes no fraydom with no one, and I always keeps my own mind.

  ‘I dunno how much I earn a-day – p’rhaps I may git a shilling, and p’rhaps sixpence. I didn ‘t git much yesterday (Sunday) – only sixpence. I was not out on Saturday; I was ill in bed, and I was at home on Friday. Indeed, I did not get much on Thursday, only tuppence ha’penny. The largest day? I dunno. Why, about a shilling. Well, sure, I might git as much as two shillings, if I got a shillin’ from a lady. Some gintlemen are good – such a gintleman as you, now, might give me a shilling.

  ‘Well, as to weather, I likes half dry and half wit; of course I wish for the bad wither. Every one must be glad of what brings good to him; and, there’s one thing, I can ‘t make the wither – I can’t make a fine day nor a wit one. I don’t think anybody would interfere with me; certainly, if I was a blaggya’rd I should not be left here; no, nor if I was a thief; but if any other man was to come on to my crossing, I can’t say whether the police would interfere to protect me – p’rhaps they might.

  ‘What is it I say to shabby people? Well, by J—, they’re all shabby, I think. I don’t see any difference; but what can I do? I can ‘t insult thim, and I was niver insulted mysilf, since here I ‘ve been, nor, for the matter of that, ever had an angry worrud spoken to me.

  ‘Well, sure, I dunno who’s the most liberal; if I got a fourpinny bit from a moll I’d take it. Some of the ladies are very liberal; a good lady will give a sixpence. I never hard of sweepin’ the mud back again; and as for the boys annoying me, I has no coleaguein’ with boys, and they wouldn’t be allowed to interfere with me – the police wouldn’t allow it.

  ‘After I came from Wales, where I was on one leg, selling matches, then it was I took to sweep the crossin’. A poor divil must put up with anything, good or bad. Well, I was a laborin’ man, a bricklayer’s labourer, and I ‘ve been away from Ireland these sixteen year. When I came from Ireland I went to Wales. I was there a long time; and the way I broke my leg was, I fell off a scaffold. I am not married; a lame man wouldn’t get any woman to have him in London at all, at all. I don’t know what age I am. I am not fifty, nor forty; I think about thirty-six. No, by J—, it’s not mysilf that iver knew a well-off crossin’ -sweeper. I don’t dale in them at all.