University of Virginia Library

OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF CROCKERY AND
GLASS-WARES.

We now come to a new class of the street-
sellers of manufactured articles — viz., the "crocks,"
as they are termed. I have before alluded to
one characteristic of these traders — that they
all strive to be barterers in preference to sales-
men. They also present other varying qualities
when compared with other classes of street-sellers.
Of these "crocks," there are, from the best data I
could obtain from men in the trade, and from the
swag-shop people who supply them, 250 men and
150 women; of these, 120 couples (man and
woman) "work" together; of the remainder, some-
times two men work in unison, and some women
work singly. On my inquiring of one of these
street folk if ever three worked together, I was
told that such was never the case, as the "crocks"
would quote a saying: "Two's good company,
three's none at all." Of the men and women
carrying on this traffic conjointly more than half
are married; showing a difference of habits to the
costermongers. The reason assigned to me by
one of the class (himself once a costermonger) was
that the interest of the man and woman in the
business was closer than in costermongering, while
the serviceableness of a woman helpmate in "swop-
ping," or bartering, was much greater. This prompts
the women, I am told, even if they are unmarried
at the outset, to insist upon wedlock; and the man
— sometimes, perhaps, to secure a valuable "help,"
at others, it may be, from better motives — consents
to what in this rank of life, and under the circum-
stances of such street-traders, is more frequently
the woman's offer than the man's. The trade, in
its present form, has not been known more than
twelve years.

The goods, which are all bought at the crock
swag-shops, of which an account is given below, are
carried in baskets on the head, the men having
pads on the cloth caps which they wear — or some-
times a padding of hay or wool inside the cap —
while the women's pads are worn outside their
bonnets or caps, the bonnet being occasionally
placed on the basket. The goods, though carried
in baskets on the head to the locality of the traffic,
are, whilst the traffic is going on, usually borne
from house to house, or street to street, on the
arm, or when in large baskets carried before them
by the two hands. These baskets are strongly made;
the principal mart is close to Spitalfields-market.

The men engaged in this trade are usually
strong, robust, and red-faced. Most of them are
above the middle stature; very few are beyond
middle age, and the majority of them are under or
little more than 30. The women, more than the
men, have contracted a stoop or bend to one side,
not so much by carrying weights on the head, as
by carrying them on the arm. The weights they
carry are from three to five stone. The dress of
the men is the same as the costermongers, with the
exception of shooting-cut jackets being more
frequent among the "crocks" than the costers, and
red plush waistcoats are very popular with them.
When not at work, or on Sundays — for they never
work on the Sabbath, though they do not go to
church or chapel — these men are hardly ever seen
to wear a hat. Both men and women wear strong
boots and, unless when "hard-up," silk handker-
chiefs. Their places of residence are, as regards the
majority, in Spitalfields, Bethnal-green, and Shore-
ditch. Of the others the greater portion reside in
the neighbourhood of Kent-street, in the Borough.
Their abode usually consists of one room, which
is in most cases more comfortable, and better fur-
nished than those of the costers. "We pick up
a tidy ornament now and then," one crock said,
"such as a picture, in the way of swop, and our
good women likes to keep them at home for a bit
of show." They live well, in general, dining out
almost every day; and I am told that, as a body,
they have fewer children than any other class of
street-folk.

The trade is almost entirely itinerant. Crock-
sellers are to be seen at street-markets on Saturday
nights, but they are not the regular crocks, who,
as I have said, do not care to sell. The crocks go
on "rounds," the great trade being in the
suburbs. Sometimes a round lasts a week, the
couple resting at a fresh place every night. Others
have a round for each day of the week.

The long rounds are to Greenwich, Woolwich,
Northfleet, Gravesend, Stroud, Rochester, Chat-
ham, and then to Maidstone. Some will then
make Maidstone the head-quarters, and work the
neighbouring villages — such as East Farleigh,
Town Malling, Yalding, Aylesford, and others.
The return to town may be direct by railway, or
by some other route, if any stock remains unsold.
On these long rounds the higher priced goods are
generally carried, and stock is forwarded from
London to the "crock" whilst on the round, if
the demand require it. Another long round is
Vauxhall, Wandsworth, Kingston-on-Thames, and
Guildford, with divergings to the villages. The
return from Guildford is often by Richmond, Kew,
&c. A third long round is Hampstead, Kilburn,
Barnet, Watford, and so on to St. Alban's. The
other long rounds are less frequented; but some
go to Uxbridge; others to Windsor and Eton, and
as far as Reading; others to Cambridge, by Tot-
tenham, Edmonton, Ware, &c. When no trade is
to be done close to London, the "crocks" often
have themselves and their wares conveyed to any
town by rail. The short, or town rounds, are the
Dover-road, New Kent-road, Walworth, Camber-
well, and back by Newington; Kennington, Brix-
ton, Clapham, and back by Vauxhall; Bayswater,
Notting-hill, and back by Paddington; Camden
Town, St. John's Wood, and Hampstead; Stoke
Newington, Dalston, Clapton, Shacklewell, and
Stamford-hill; Mile-end, Stratford, and Bow;
Limehouse, Poplar, and back by the Commercial-
road. It would be easy to cite other routes, but
these show the character of the trade. Some
occupy two days. A few crocks "work" the
poor neighbourhoods, such as Hoxton, Kingsland-
road, parts of Hackney, &c., and cry, "Here we
are — now, ladies, bring out your old hats, old
clothes, old umbrellers, old anythink; old shoes,
metal, old anythink; here we are!"

The trade, from the best information I could
acquire, is almost equally divided into what may
be called "fancy" and "useful" articles. A
lodging-letter, for instance, will "swop" her old
gowns and boots, and drive keen bargains for
plates, dishes, or wash-hand basins and jugs. A
housekeeper, who may be in easier circumstances,
will exchange for vases and glass wares. Servant-
maids swop clothes and money for a set of china,
"'gainst they get married." Perhaps there are no
more frequent collisions between buyer and seller
than in the crock swag-shops. A man who had
once been an assistant in one of these places, told
me that some of the "crocks" were tiresome beyond
measure, and every now and then a minute or two
was wasted by the "crock" and the swag-shop-
man in swearing one at another. Some of these
street traffickers insist upon testing the soundness
of every article, by striking the middle finger nail
against it. This they do to satisfy their customers
also, in the course of trade, especially in poor
neighbourhoods.

From the best data at my command, one quarter
of the goods sold at the swag-shops are sold to
the crock dealers I have described, and in about
equal proportions as to amount in fancy or useful
articles. There are, in addition to the crock bar-
terers, perhaps 100 traders who work the poor
streets, chiefly carrying their goods in barrows,
but they sell, and though they will barter, do not
clamour for it. They cry: "Free trade for ever!
Here's cup and saucer for a halfpenny! Pick'em
out at your own price! Tea-pot for three half-
pence! Pick'em out! Oho! oho! Giving
away here!" They rattle dishes and basins
as they make this noise. These men are all sup-
plied at the swag-shops, buying what is called
"common lots," and selling at 30 per cent. profit.
Such traders have only been known in the
streets for five years, and for three or four months
of the year half of these "go to costering." The
barrows are about seventy in number, and there
are thirty stalls. Seven-eighths of the "barrow-
crocks" are men. The swag-barrowmen also
sell small articles of crockery wares, and alto-
gether one half of the trade of the crock swag-
shops (which I have described) is a trade for
the streets.

Of the way in which the "crock barterers" dis-
pose of their wares, &c., I have given an account
below. They are rapidly supplanting the "old
clo' " trade of the Jews.

The hucksters of crockery-ware are a consider-
able class. One who has great experience in the
business thinks there must be some hundreds
employed in it throughout London. He says he
meets many at the swag warehouses on the even-
ings that he goes there. He is often half an hour
before he can be served. There are seven or
eight swag warehouses frequented by the huck-
sters, and at the busy time my informant has
often seen as many has twenty-five at each house,
and he is satisfied that there must be three or four
hundred hucksters of china and glass throughout
the metropolis. The china and glass in which
they deal are usually purchased at the east end of
the town, upon the understanding that if the
huckster is unable to dispose of them in the course
of the day the articles will be taken back in the
morning, if uninjured, and the money returned.
The hucksters usually take out their goods early
in the day. Their baskets are commonly deposited
at the warehouse, and each warehouse has from
thirty to forty baskets left there over-night, when
the unsold articles are returned. The baskets are
usually filled with china and glass and ornaments,
to the amount of from 5s. to 15s., according to the
stock-money of the huckster. A basket filled
with 15s. worth of china is considered, I am told,
"a very tidy stock." In the same neighbourhood
as they get the crockery, are made the baskets in
which it is carried. For these baskets they pay
from 2s. to 6s., and they are made expressly for
the hucksters; indeed, on one side of a well-
known street at the east end, the baskets made in
the cellars may be seen piled outside the houses
up to the second-floor windows. The class of
persons engaged in hawking china through the
metropolis are either broken-down tradesmen or
clerks out of place, or Jews, or they may be Staf-
fordshire men, who have been regularly bred to the
business. They carry different kinds of articles.
The Staffordshire man may generally be known by
the heavy load of china that he carries with him.
He has few light or fancy articles in his basket;
it is filled chiefly with plates and dishes and
earthenware pans. The broken-down tradesmen
carries a lighter load. He prefers tea services and
vases, and rummers and cruet-stands, as they are
generally of a more delicate make than the articles
carried by the Staffordshire men. The Jew, how-
ever, will carry nothing of any considerable weight.
He takes with him mostly light, showy, Bohemian
goods — which are difficult "to be priced" by his
customers, and do not require much labour to
hawk about. The hucksters usually start on their
rounds about nine. There are very few who take
money; indeed they profess to take none at all.
"But that is all flam," said my informant. "If
any one was to ask me the price of an article in
an artful way like, I shouldn't give him a straight-
forward answer. To such parties we always say,
`Have you got any old clothes?' " The hucksters
do take money when they can get it, and they
adopt the principle of exchanging their goods for
old clothes merely as a means of evading the
licence. Still they are compelled to do a great deal
in the old clothes' line. When they take money
they usually reckon to get 4d. in the shilling, but
at least three-fourths of their transactions consist
of exchanges for old clothes. "A good tea-ser-
vice we generally give," said my informant, "for
a left-off suit of clothes, hat, and boots — they must
all be in a decent condition to be worth that. We
give a sugar-basin for an old coat, and a rummer
for a pair of old Wellington boots. For a glass
milk-jug I should expect a waistcoat and trowsers,
and they must be tidy ones too. But there's
nothing so saleable as a pair of old boots to us.
There is always a market for old boots, when
there is not for old clothes. You can any day get
a dinner out of old Wellingtons; but as for coats
and waistcoats — there's a fashion about them, and
what pleases one don't another. I can sell
a pair of old boots going along the streets
if I carry them in my hand. The snobs
will run after us to get them — the backs are so
valuable. Old beaver hats and waistcoats are
worth little or nothing. Old silk hats, however,
there's a tidy market for. They are bought for
the shops, and are made up into new hats for the
country. The shape is what is principally wanted.
We won't give a farden for the polka hats with
the low crowns. If we can double an old hat up
and put it in our pockets, it's more valuable to us
than a stiff one. We know that the shape must be
good to stand that. As soon as a hatter touches
a hat he knows by the touch or the stiffness of it
whether it's been `through' the fire or not; and
if so, they'll give it you back in a minute. There is
one man who stands in Devonshire-street, Bishops-
gate-street, waiting to buy the hats of us as we
go into the market, and who purchases at least
thirty dozen of us a week. There will be three
or four there besides him looking out for us as
we return from our rounds, and they'll either
outbid one another, according as the demand is,
or they'll all hold together to give one price.
The same will be done by other parties wanting
the old umbrellas that we bring back with us.
These are valuable principally for the whalebone.
Cane ribbed ones are worth only from 1d. to 2d., and that's merely the value of the stick and the
supporters. Iron skewers are made principally out of
the old supporters of umbrellas." The china and
crockery bought by the hucksters at the warehouses
are always second-rate articles. They are most of
them a little damaged, and the glass won't stand
hot water. Every huckster, when he starts, has
a bag, and most of them two — the one for the
inferior, and the other for the better kind of old
clothes he buys. "We purchase gentlemen's left-
off wearing apparel. This is mostly sold to us by
women. They are either the wives of tradesmen
or mechanics who sell them to us, or else it is the
servant of a lodging-house, who has had the things
given to her, and with her we can deal much
easier than the others. She's come to 'em light,
and of course she parts with 'em light," said the
man, "and she 'll take a pair of sugar basins worth
about 6d., you know, for a thing that 'll fetch two
or three shillings sometimes. But the mistresses
of the houses are she-dragons. They wants a
whole dinner chany service for their husband's

[Description: 915EAF. Page 368.]

rags. As for plates and dishes, they think they
can be had for picking up. Many a time they
sells their husband's things unbeknown to 'em,
and often the gentleman of the house coming up
to the door, and seeing us make a deal — for his
trowsers maybe — puts a stop to the whole trans-
action. Often and often I've known a woman
sell the best part of her husband's stock of clothes
for chany ornaments for her mantelpiece. And
I'm sure the other day a lady stripped the whole
of her passage, and gave me almost a new great
coat, that was hanging up in the hall, for a few
trumpery tea-things. But the greatest `screws'
we has to deal with are some of the ladies in the
squares. They stops you on the sly in the streets,
and tells you to call at their house at sitch a hour
of the day, and when you goes there they smuggles
you quietly into some room by yourselves, and
then sets to work Jewing away as hard as they
can, pricing up their own things, and downcrying
yourn. Why, the other day I was told to call at
a fashionable part of Pimlico, so I gave a person
3d. to mind the child, and me and my good
woman started off at eight in the morning with a
double load. But, bless you, when we got there,
the lady took us both into a private room unbe-
known to the servants, and wanted me to go and
buy expressly for her a green and white chamber
service all complete, with soap trays and brush
trays, together with four breakfast cups — and all
this here grand set-out she wanted for a couple of
old washed-out light waistcoats, and a pair of light
trowsers. She tried hard to make me believe that
the buttons alone on the waistcoats was worth
6d. a piece, but I knowed the value of buttons
afore she was borned; at first start off I'm sure
they wouldn't have cost 1d. each, so I couldn't
make a deal of it no how, and I had to take
all my things back for my trouble. I asked her
even for a pint of beer, but she wouldn't listen to
no such thing. We generally cry as we go, `any
old clothes to sell or exchange,' and I look down
the area, and sometimes knock at the door. If
I go out with a 15s. basket of crockery, may be
after a tidy day's work I shall come home with
1s. in my pocket (perhaps I shall have sold a
couple of tumblers, or half a dozen plates), and
a bundle of old clothes, consisting of two or
three old shirts, a coat or two, a suit of left-
off livery, a woman's gown may be, or a pair
of old stays, a couple of pair of Wellingtons, and
a waistcoat or so. These I should have at my
back, and the remainder of my chany and glass on
my head, and werry probably a humberella or
two under my arm, and five or six old hats in my
hand. This load altogether will weigh about
three quarters of a cwt., and I shall have travelled
fifteen miles with that, at least; for as fast as I
gets rid on the weight of the crockery, I takes up
the weight of the old clothes. The clothes I
hardly know the value on till I gets to the Clothes
Exchange, in Houndsditch. The usual time for
the hucksters arriving there is between three and
four in the winter, or between five and six in the
summer. In fact, we must be at the Exchange at
them hours, because there all our buyers is, and
we can't go out the next day until we've sold our
lot. We can't have our baskets stocked again
until we've got the money for our old clothes."
The Exchange is a large square plot of damp
ground, about an acre in extent, enclosed by a
hoarding about eight feet high, on the top of
which is a narrow sloping roof, projecting suffi-
ciently forward to shelter one person from the
rain. Across this ground are placed four rows of
double seats, ranged back to back. Here meet all
the Jew clothesmen, hucksters, dealers in second-
hand shoes, left-off wardrobe keepers, hareskin
dealers, umbrella dealers and menders, and indeed
buyers and sellers of left-off clothes and worn-out
commodities of every description. The purchasers
are of all nations, and in all costumes. Some are
Greeks, others Swiss, and others Germans; some
have come there to buy up old rough charity
clothing and army coats for the Irish market,
others have come to purchase the hareskins and
old furs, or else to pick up cheap old teapots and
tea-urns. The man with the long flowing beard
and greasy tattered gaberdine is worth thousands,
and he has come to make another sixpence out of
the rags and tatters that are strewn about the
ground in heaps for sale. At a little before three
o'clock the stream of rag-sellers sets in in a flood
towards this spot. At the gate stands "Barney
Aaron," to take the half-penny admission of every
one entering the ground. By his side stands his
son with a leather pouch of half-pence, to give
change for any silver that may be tendered. The
stench of the old clothes is positively overpower-
ing. Every one there is dressed in his worst. If
he has any good clothes he would not put them on.
Almost each one that enters has a bag at his back,
and scarcely has he passed the gate before he is
surrounded by some half dozen eager Jews — one
feels the contents of the bundle on the huckster's
back — another clamours for the first sight. A
third cries, "I'm sure you have something that'll
suit me." "You know me," says a fourth, "I'm
a buyer, and give a good price." "Have you got
any breaking?" asks this Jew, who wants an old
coat or two to cut up into cloth caps — "Have you
got any fustian, any old cords, or old boats?"
And such is the anxiety and greediness of the
buyers, that it is as much as the seller can do to
keep his bundle on his back. At length he forces
his way to a seat, and as he empties the contents
of his sack on the ground, each different article is
snapped up and eagerly overhauled by the different
Jews that have followed him to his seat. Then
they all ask what sum is wanted for the several
things, and they, one and all, bid one quarter of
the price demanded. I am assured that it requires
the greatest vigilance to prevent the things being
carried off unpaid in the confusion. While this
scene is going on, a Jew, perched upon a high
stage in the centre of the ground, shouts aloud to
the multitude, "Hot wine, a half-penny a glass,
here." Beside him stands another, with smoking
cans of hot eels; and next to this one is a sweet-
meat stall, with a crowd of Jew boys gathered
round the keeper of it, gambling with marbles
for Albert rock and hardbake. Up and down

[Description: 915EAF. Page 369.]

between the seats push women with baskets
of sheep's trotters on their arms, and scream-
ing, "Legs of mutton, two for a penny; who'll
give me a handsel — who'll give me a hand-
sel?" After them comes a man with a large tin
can under his arm, and roaring, "Hot pea, oh!
hot pea, oh!" In one corner is a coffee and beer
shop. Inside this are Jews playing at draughts,
or settling and wrangling about the goods they
have bought of one another. In fact, in no other
place is such a scene of riot, rags, and filth to be
witnessed. The cause of this excitement is the
great demand on the part of the poor, and the cheap
clothiers as well, for those articles which are con-
sidered as worthless by the rich. The old shoes
are to be cobbled up, and the cracks heel-balled
over, and sold out to the working-classes as strong
durable articles. The Wellingtons are to be new
fronted, and disposed of to clerks who are expected
to appear respectable upon the smallest salaries.
The old coats and trowsers are wanted for the
slop-shops; they are to be "turned," and made up
into new garments. The best black suits are to
be "clobbered" up — and those which are more
worn in parts are to be cut up and made into new
cloth caps for young gentlemen, or gaiters for poor
curates; whilst others are to be transformed into
the "best boys' tunics." Such as are too far gone
are bought to be torn to pieces by the "devil,"
and made up into new cloth — or "shoddy" as it
is termed — while such as have already done this
duty are sold for manure for the ground. The old
shirts, if they are past mending, are bought as
"rubbish" by the marine store dealers, and sold
as rags to the paper-mills, to be changed either
into the bank-note, the newspaper, or the best
satin note-paper.

The average earnings of the hucksters who ex-
change crockery, china and glass for the above
articles, are from 8s. to 10s. per week. Some
days, I am told, they will make 3s., and on others
they will get only 6d. However, taking the good
with the bad, it is thought that 10s. a week is
about a fair average of the earnings of the whole
class. The best times for this trade are at the
turn of the winter, and at the summer season, be-
cause then people usually purchase new clothes,
and are throwing off the old ones. The average
price of an old hat is from 1d. to 8d.; for an old
pair of shoes, from 1d. to 4d.; an old pair of Wel-
lingtons fetch from 3d. to 1s. 6d. (those of French
leather are of scarcely any value). An old coat
is worth from 4d. to 1s.; waistcoats are valued
from 1d. to 3d.; trowsers are worth from 4d. to
8d.; cotton gowns are of the same value; bonnets
are of no value whatever; shirts fetch from 2d. to
6d.; stockings are 1d. per pair; a silk handker-
chief varies in value from 3d. to 1s. The party
supplying me with the above information was
originally in the coal and greengrocery business,
but, owing to a succession of calamities, he has
been unable to carry it on. Since then he has
taken to the vending of crockery in the streets.
He is a man far above the average of the class to
which he at present belongs.