London Labour and the London Poor: Selection (Classics) (8 page)

The tales of robbery and bloodshed, of heroic, eloquent, and gentlemanly highwaymen, or of gipsies turning out to be nobles, now interest the costermongers but little, although they found great delight in such stories a few years back. Works relating to Courts, potentates, or ‘harristocrats’, are the most relished by these rude people.

Of the Donkeys of the Costermongers

[p. 31] The costermongers almost universally treat their donkeys with kindness. Many a costermonger will resent the ill-treatment of a donkey, as he would a personal indignity. These animals are often not only favourites, but pets, having their share of the costermonger’s dinner when bread forms a portion of it, or pudding, or anything suited to the palate of the brute. Those well-used, manifest fondness for their masters, and are easily manageable; it is, however, difficult to get an ass, whose master goes regular rounds, away from its stable for any second labour during the day, unless it has fed and slept in the interval. The usual fare of a donkey is a peck of chaff, which costs 1
d
., a quart of oats and a quart of beans, each averaging 1½
d
., and sometimes a pennyworth of hay, being an expenditure of 4
d
. or 5
d
. a day; but some give double this quantity in a prosperous time. Only one meal a day is given. Many costermongers told me, that their donkeys lived well when they themselves lived well.

‘It’s all nonsense to call donkeys stupid,’ said one costermonger to me;
‘them’s stupid that calls them so; they’re sensible. Not long since I worked Guildford with my donkey-cart and a boy. Jack (the donkey) was slow and heavy in coming back, until we got in sight of the lights at Vauxhall-gate, and then he trotted on like one o’clock, he did indeed! just as if he smelt it was London besides seeing it, and knew he was at home. He had a famous appetite in the country, and the fresh grass did him good. I gave a country lad 2
d
. to mind him in a green lane there. I wanted my own boy to do so, but he said, “I’ll see you further first.” A London boy hates being by himself in a lone country part. He’s afraid of being burked; he is indeed. One can’t quarrel with a lad when he’s away with one in the country; he’s very useful. I feed my donkey well. I sometimes give him a carrot for a luxury, but carrots are dear now. He’s fond of mashed potatoes, and has many a good mash when I can buy them at 4lb. a penny.’

‘There was a friend of mine,’ said another man, ‘had great trouble about his donkey a few months back. I saw part of it, and knew all about it. He was doing a little work on a Sunday morning at Wandsworth, and the poor thing fell down dead. He was very fond of his donkey and kind to it, and the donkey was very fond of him. He thought he wouldn’t leave the poor creature he’d had a good while, and had been out with in all weathers, by the road side; so he dropped all notion of doing business, and with help got the poor dead thing into his cart; its head lolloping over the end of the cart, and its poor eyes staring at nothing. He thought he’d drag it home and bury it somewheres. It wasn’t for the value he dragged it, for what’s a dead donkey worth? There was a few persons about him, and they was all quiet and seemed sorry for the poor fellow and for his donkey; but the church-bells struck up, and up came a “crusher”, and took the man up, and next day he was fined 10
s
., I can’t exactly say for what. He never saw no more of the animal, and lost his stock as well as his donkey.’

Of the Costermongers’ Capital

[pp.
31
–6] The costermongers, though living by buying and selling, are seldom or never capitalists. It is estimated that not more than one-fourth of the entire body trade upon their own property. Some borrow their stock money, others borrow the stock itself, others again borrow the donkey-carts, barrows, or baskets, in which their stock is carried round, whilst others borrow even the weights and measures by which it is meted out.

The reader, however uninformed he may be as to the price the poor usually have to pay for any loans they may require, doubtlessly need not be told that the remuneration exacted for the use of the above-named
commodities is not merely confined to the legal 5
l
. per centum per annum; still many of even the most ‘knowing’ will hardly be able to credit the fact that the ordinary rate of interest in the costermongers’ money-market amounts to 20 per cent. per week, or no less than 1,040
l
. a year, for every 100
l
. advanced.

But the iniquity of this usury in the present instance is felt, not so much by the costermongers themselves, as by the poor people whom they serve; for, of course, the enormous rate of interest must be paid out of the profits on the goods they sell, and consequently added to the price, so that coupling this overcharge with the customary short allowance – in either weight or measure, as the case may be – we can readily perceive how cruelly the poor are defrauded, and how they not only get often too little for what they do, but have as often to pay too much for what they buy.

Premising thus much, I shall now proceed to describe the terms upon which the barrow, the cart, the basket, the weights, the measures, the stock-money, or the stock, is usually advanced to the needy costermongers by their more thrifty brethren.

The hire of a barrow is 3
d
. a day, or 1
s
. a week, for the six winter months; and 4
d
. a day, or 1
s
. 6
d
. a week, for the six summer months. Some are to be had rather lower in the summer, but never for less than 4
d
. – sometimes for not less than 6
d
. on a Saturday, when not unfrequently every barrow in London is hired. No security and no deposit is required, but the lender satisfies himself that the borrower is really what he represents himself to be. I am informed that 5,000 hired barrows are now in the hands of the London costermongers, at an average rental of 3
l
. 5
s
. each, or 16,250
l
. a year. One man lets out 120 yearly, at a return (dropping the 5
s
.) of 360
l
.; while the cost of a good barrow, new, is 2
l
. 12
s
., and in the autumn and winter they may be bought new, or ‘as good as new’, at 30
s
. each; so that reckoning each to cost this barrow-letter 2
l
. – he receives 360
l
. rent or interest – exactly 150 per cent, per annum for property which originally cost but 240
l
., and property which is still as good for the ensuing year’s business as for the past. One man has rented a barrow for eight years, during which period he has paid 26
l
. for what in the first instance did not cost more than twice as many shillings, and which he must return if he discontinues its use. ‘I know men well to do,’ said an intelligent costermonger, ‘who have paid 1
s
. and 1
s
. 6
d
. a week for a barrow for three, four, and five years; and they can’t be made to understand that it’s rather high rent for what might cost 40
s
. at first. They can’t see they are losers. One barrow-lender sends his son out, mostly on a Sunday, collecting his rents (for barrows), but he’s not a hard man.’
Some of the lenders complain that their customers pay them irregularly and cheat them often, and that in consequence they must charge high; while the ‘borrowers’ declare that it is very seldom indeed that a man ‘shirks’ the rent for his barrow, generally believing that he has made an advantageous bargain, and feeling the want of his vehicle, if he lose it temporarily. Let the lenders, however, be deceived by many, still, it is evident, that the rent charged for barrows is most exorbitant, by the fact, that all who take to the business become men of considerable property in a few years.

Donkey-carts are rarely hired. ‘If there’s 2,000 donkey and pony-carts in London, more or less, not 200 of them’s borrowed; but of barrows five to two is borrowed.’ A donkey-cart costs from 2
l
. to 10
l
.; 3
l
. 10
s
. being an average price. The hire is 2
s
. or 2
s
. 6
d
. a week. The harness costs 2
l
. 10
s
. new, but is bought, nineteen times out of twenty, second-hand, at from 2
s
. 6
d
. to 20
s
. The donkeys themselves are not let out on hire, though a costermonger may let out his donkey to another in the trade when he does not require its services; the usual sum paid for the hire of a donkey is 2
s
. 6
d
. or 3
s
. per week. The cost price of a pony varies from 5
l
. to 13
l
.; that of a donkey from 1
l
. to 3
l
. There may be six donkeys, or more, in costermonger use, to one pony. Some traffic almost weekly in these animals, liking the excitement of such business.

The repairs to barrows, carts, and harness are almost always effected by the costermongers themselves.

‘Shallows’ (baskets) which cost 1
s
. and 1
s
. 6
d
., are let out at 1
d
. a day; but not five in 100 of those in use are borrowed, as their low price places them at the costermonger’s command. A pewter quart-pot, for measuring onions, &c., is let out at 2
d
. a day, its cost being 2
s
. Scales are 2
d
., and a set of weights 1
d
. a day.

Another common mode of usury is in the lending of stock-money. This is lent by the costermongers who have saved the means for such use of their funds, and by beer-shop keepers. The money-lending costermongers are the most methodical in their usury – 1,040
l
. per cent, per annum, as was before stated, being the rate of interest usually charged. It is seldom that a lower sum than 10
s
. is borrowed, and never a higher sum than 2
l
. When a stranger applies for a loan, the money-lender satisfies himself as I have described of the barrow-lender. He charges 2
d
. a day for a loan of 2
s
. 6
d
.; 3
d
. a day for 5
s
.; 6
d
. a day for 10
s
.; and 1
s
. a day for 1
l
. If the daily payments are rendered regularly, at a month’s end the terms are reduced to 6
d
. a week for 5
s
.; 1
s
. for 10
s
.; and 2
s
. for 1
l
. ‘That’s reckoned an extraordinary small interest,’ was said to me, ‘only 4
d
. a day for a
pound.’ The average may be 3
s
. a week for the loan of 20
s
.; it being only to a few that a larger sum than 20
s
. is lent. ‘I paid 2
s
. a week for 1
l
. for a whole year,’ said one man, ‘or 5
l
. 4
s
. for the use of a pound, and then I was liable to repay the 1
l
.’ The principal, however, is seldom repaid; nor does the lender seem to expect it, though he will occasionally demand it. One money-lender is considered to have a floating capital of 150
l
. invested in loans to costermongers. If he receives 2
s
. per week per 1
l
. for but twenty-six weeks in the year (and he often receives it for the fifty-two weeks) – his 150
l
. brings him in 390
l
. a year.

Sometimes a loan is effected only for a day, generally a Saturday, as much as 2
s
. 6
d
. being sometimes given for the use of 5
s
.; the 5
s
. being of course repaid in the evening.

The money-lenders are subject to at least twice the extent of loss to which the barrow-lender is exposed, as it is far oftener that money is squandered (on which of course no interest can be paid) than that a barrow is disposed of.

The money-lenders, (from the following statement, made to me by one who was in the habit of borrowing,) pursue their business in a not very dissimilar manner to that imputed to those who advance larger sums: ‘If I want to borrow in a hurry,’ said my informant, ‘as I may hear of a good bargain, I run to my neighbour L—’s, and he first says he hasn’t 20
s
. to lend, and his wife’s by, and she hasn’t 2
s
. in her pocket, so I can’t be accommodated. Then he said if I must have the money he’ll have to pawn his watch, – or to borrow it of Mr —, (an innkeeper) who would charge a deal of interest, for he wasn’t paid all he lent two months back, and 1
s
. would be expected to be spent in drink – though L— don’t drink – or he must try if his sister would trust him, but she was sick and wanted all her money – or perhaps his barrow-merchant would lend him 10
s
., if he’d undertake to return 15
s
. at night; and it ends by my thinking I’ve done pretty well if I can get 1
l
. for 5
s
. interest, for a day’s use of it.’

The beer-shop keepers lend on far easier terms, perhaps at half the interest exacted by the others, and without any regular system of charges; but they look sharp after the repayment, and expect a considerable outlay in beer, and will only lend to good customers; they however have even lent money without interest.

‘In the depth of last winter,’ said a man of good character to me, ‘I borrowed 5
s
. The beer-shop keeper wouldn’t lend; he’ll rather lend to men doing well and drinking. But I borrowed it at 6
d
. a day interest, and that 6
d
. a day I paid exactly four weeks, Sundays and all; and that was 15
s
.
in thirty days for the use of 5
s
. I was half starving all the time, and then I had a slice of luck, and paid the 5
s
. back slap, and got out of it.’

Many shopkeepers lend money to the stall-keepers, whom they know from standing near their premises, and that without interest. They generally lend, however, to the women, as they think the men want to get drunk with it. ‘Indeed, if it wasn’t for the women,’ said a costermonger to me, ‘half of us might go to the Union.’