 | OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF MANUFACTURED ARTICLES. London Labour and the London Poor, volume 1 |  |
OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF RHUBARB
AND SPICE.
From the street-seller whose portrait has already
been given I received the following history. He
appeared to be a very truthful and kindly-disposed
old man: —
"I am one native of Mogadore in Morocco. I am
an Arab. I left my countree when I was sixteen or
eighteen year of age. I forget, sir. I don't know
which, about eighteen, I tink it was. My fader was
like market man, make de people pay de toll — he
rent de whole market, you see, from de governemen,
and make de people pay so much for deir stands.
I can't tell you what dey call dem dere. I couldn't
recollect what my fader pay for de market; but
I know some of de people pay him a penny, some
a ha'penny, for de stands. Dere everything sheap, not
what dey are here in England. Dey may stop all
day for de toll or go when de market is over.
My fader was not very rish — not very poor — he
keep a family. We have bread, meat, shicken,
apples, grapes, all de good tings to eat, not like
here — tis de sheapest countree in de world. My
fader have two wifes, not at once you know, he
bury de first and marry anoder. I was by
second wife. He have seven shildren by her, four
sons and tree daughters. By de first I tink dere
was five, two sons and tree daughters. Bless
you, by de time I was born dere was great many
of 'em married and away in de world. I don't
know where dey are now. Only one broder I got
live for what I know, wheder de oders are dead or
where dey are I can't tell. De one broder I speak
of is in Algiers now; he is dealer dere. What led
me to come away, you say? Like good many I
was young and foolish; like all de rest of young
people, I like to see foreign countries, but you see
in my countree de governemen don't like de
people to come away, not widout you pay so mush,
so Gibraltar was de only port I could go to, it was
only one twenty miles across de water — close to
us. You see you go to Gibraltar like smuggling
— you smuggle yourself — you talk wid de Captain
and he do it for you.
"My fader been dead years and years before I
come away, I suppose I was about ten year old
when he die. I had been at school till time I
was grown up, and after dat I was shoemaker.
I make de slippers. Oh yes! my moder was alive
den — she was dead when I was here in England.
I get about one penny a pair for de slippers in
my countree; penny dere as good as shilling here
amost. I could make tree, four, five pair in one
day. I could live on my gains den better dan
what I could do here wid twelve times as mush —
[Description: 915EAF. Page 453.]
Yes, my moder give me leave to go where I like.
She never see me since" (sighing). "Oh yes, I
love her very mush. I am old man now, but I never
forgot her yet;" here the old man burst into tears
and buried his face in his handkerchief for several
minutes. "No, no! she don't know when I come
away dat she never see me again, nor me neider.
I tell I go Gibraltar, and den I tell her I go to
Lisbon to see my broder, who was spirit merchant
dere. I didn't say noting not at all about coming
back to her, but I tought I should come back
soon. If I had tought I never see no more, not
all de gold in de world take me from her. She
was good moder to me. I was de youngest but
one. My broders kept my moder, you see. Where
I came from it is not like here, if only one in de
family well off, de oders never want for noting.
In my country, you see, de law is you must main-
tain your fader and moder before you maintain
your own family. You must keep dem in de
house." Here he repeated the law in Hebrew.
"De people were Mahomedans in Mogadore, but
we were Jews, just like here, you see. De first
ting de Jews teesh de shildren is deir duty to deir
faders and deir moders. And dey love one anoder
more than de gold; but dey love de gold more
dan most people, for you see gold is more to dem.
In my countree de governemen treat de Jews very
badly, so de money all de Jews have to help dem.
Often de government in my country take all deir
money from de Jews, and kill dem after, so de
Jews all keep deir money in secret places, put de
gold in jars and dig dem in de ground, and de
men worths hundreds go about wid no better
clothes dan mine.
"Well, you see I leave my poor moder, we kissed
one anoder, and cry for half an hour, and come
away to Gibraltar. When I get dere, my broder
come away from Lisbon to Gibraltar; dat time it
was war time, and de French was coming to Lis-
bon, so everybody run. When I come away
from Mogadore, I have about one hundred dollars
— some my moder give me, and some I had save.
When I got to Gibraltar, I begin to have a little
stand in de street wid silk handkershiefs, cotton
handkershiefs, shop goods you know. I do
very well wid dat, so after I get licence to hawk
de town, and after dat I keep shop. Altogeder,
I stop in Gibraltar about six year. I had den
about five or six hundred dollars. I live very
well all de time I dere. I was wid my broder
all de time. After I am six year in Gibraltar,
I begin to tink I do better in England. I tink,
like good many people, if I go to anoder part dat
is risher — 't is de rishest countree in de world
— I do better still. So I start off, and get I
here I tink in 1811, when de tree shilling pieces
first come out. I have about one hundred and
tirty pound at dat time. I stop in London a
good bit, and eat my money; it was most done
before I start to look for my living. I try to
look what I could do, but I was quite stranger
you see. I am about fourteen or fifteen month
before I begin to do anything. I go to de play
house; I see never such tings as I see here before
I come. When I come here, I tink I am in heaven
altogether — God a'mighty forgive me — such sops
(shops) and such beautiful tings. I live in Mary
Axe Parish when I first come; same parish where
I live now. Well, you see some of my countree-
men den getting good living by selling de
rhubarb and spices in de street. I get to know
dem all; and dat time you see was de good
time, money was plenty, like de dirt here.
Dat time dere was about six or seven Arabians in
de street selling rhubarb and spices, five of 'em
was from Mogadore, and two from not far off;
and dere is about five more going troo de country.
Dey all sell de same tings, merely rhubarb and
spice, dat time; before den was good for tem tings —
after dat dey get de silks and tings beside. I can't
tell what first make dem sell de rhubarb and de
spice; but I tink it is because people like to buy
de Turkey rhubarb of de men in de turbans.
When I was little shild, I hear talk in Mogadore
of de people of my country sell de rhubarb in
de streets of London, and make plenty money
by it.
"Dere was one very old Arabian in de streets
wen I first come; dey call him Sole; he been
forty year at de same business. He wear de long
beard and Turkish dress. He used to stand by
Bow Shursh, Sheapside. Everybody in de street
know him. He was de old establish one. He
been dead now, let me see — how long he been
dead — oh, dis six or seven and twenty year. He
die in Gibraltar very poor and very old — most
ninety year of age. All de rhubarb-sellers was
Jews. Dere was anoder called Ben Aforiat, and
two broders; and anoder, his name was Azuli.
One of Aforiat's broders use to stand in St. Paul's
Shurshyard. He was very well know; all de
oders hawk about de town like I do myself. Now
dey all gone dead, and dere only four of us now
in England; dey all in London, and none in de
country. Two of us live in Mary Axe, anoder
live in, what dey call dat — Spitalfield, and de
oder in Petticoat-lane. De one wat live in
Spitalfield is old man, I dare say going for 70.
De one in Petticoat-lane not mush above 30. I
am little better dan 73, and de oder wat live in
Mary Axe about 40. I been de longest of all in
de streets, about tirty-eight or tirty-nine year.
All dat was here when I first come, die in
London, except dat old man Sole wat I was
telling you of, dat die in Gibraltar. About
tirteen or fourteen die since I come to England;
some die in de Hospital of de Jews at Mile End;
some die at home — not one of dem die worth
no money. Six of dem was very old people,
between 60 and 70; dere was some tirty, some
forty. Some of dem die by inshes. Dere was
one fine fellow, he was six foot two, and strong
man, he take to his bed and fall away so; at last
you see troo his hand; he was noting but de car-
case; oders die of what you call de yellow jaun-
dice; some have de fever, but deir time was come;
de death we must be.
"When I first come to dis countree me make
plenty of money by selling de rhubarb in de street.
Five-and-twenty year ago I make a pound a day
[Description: 915EAF. Page 454.]
say I clear, after I pay all de cost of my living,
tirty shillings; and now, God help me, I don't
make not twelve shilling a week, and all my
food to pay out of dat. One week wid anoder,
when I go out I clear about twelve shilling.
Everyting is so sheep now, and dere is so
many sops (shops), people has no money to
buy tings with. I could do better when everyting
was dear. I could live better, get more money,
and have more for it. I have better food, better
lodging, and better clothes. I don't know wat
is de cause, as you say. I only know dat I am
worse, and everybody is worse; dat is all I know.
Bread is sheeper, but when it was one and nine-
pence de loaf I could get plenty to buy it wid, but
now it is five pence, I can't no five pence to have
it. If de cow is de penny in de market what is de
use of dat, if you can't get no penny to buy him?
After I been selling my rhubarb for two years,
when I fust come here, I save about a hundred
and fifty pound, and den you see I agree wid tree
oder of my countrymen to take a sop (shop) in
Exeter. De oder tree was rhubarb-sellers, like
myself, and have save good bit of money as well.
One have seven hundred pound; but he have brought
tree or four hundred pound wid him to dis coun-
tree. Anoder of de tree have about two hundred,
and de oder about one hundred; dey have all save
deir money out of de rhubarb. We keep our sop,
you see, about five year, and den we fall in pieces
altogeder. We take and trust, and lose all our
money. T'oders never keep a sop before, and not
one of us was English scholar; we was forced to
keep a man, and dat way we lose all our money,
so we was force to part, and every one go look for
hisself. Den we all go selling rhubarb again
about de country, and in London; and I never
able to hold up my head since. When I come
back to de rhubarb times is getting bad, and I
not able to save no more money. All I am worth
in de world is all I got in my box, and dat alto-
gether is not more dan ten shilling. Last week
I havn't a pound of meat in de house, and I am
obliged to pawn my waistcoat and handkerchief
to get me some stock. It easy to put dem in,
but very hard to get dem out.
"I had two wives. After two or tree year when
I come I marry my first. I had two shildren by
my first, but both of dem die very young; one
was about five year old and de oder about tree.
When I travel the countree, my first wife she go
wid me everywhere. I been to all parts — to
Scotland, to Wales, but not Ireland. I see enough
of dem Irish in dis countree, I do no want no
more of dem dere. Not one of my countree I
tink ever been to Ireland, and only one beside
myself been to Scotland; but dat no use, de
Scotsh don't know wat de spice is. All de time I
am in Scotland I can't get no bread, only barley
and pea meal, and dat as sour as de winegar — and
I can't get no flour to make none too — so I
begin to say, by God I come to wrong countree
here. When I go across de countree of England
I never live in no lodging-house — always in de
public — because you see I do business dere; de
missus perhaps dere buy my spices of me. I
lodge once in Taunton, at a house where a woman
keep a lodging-house for de Jewish people wat go
about wid de gold tings — de jewellery. At oder
towns I stop at de public, for dere is de company,
and I sell my tings.
"I buy my rhubarb and my spice of de large
warehouse for de drugs; sometime I buy it of my
countreemen. We all of us know de good spice
from de bad. You look! I will show you how
to tell de good nutmeg from de bad. Here is
some in de shell: you see, I put de strong pin in
one and de oil run out; dat is because dey has
not been put in de spirit to take away de oil for
to make de extract. Now, in de bad nutmeg all
de oil been took out by de spirit, and den dere is
no flavour, like dose you buy in de sheep sops
(cheap shops). I sell de Rhubarb, East Indy and
Turkey, de Cloves, Cinnamons, Mace, Cayenne
Pepper, White Pepper — a little of all sorts when
I get de money to buy it wid. I take my solemn
oat I never sheat in scales nor weight; because
de law is, `take weight and give weight,' dat is
judge and justice. Dere is no luck in de sort
weight — no luck at all. Never in my life I put no
tings wid my goods. I tell you de troot, I grind
my white pepper wid my own hands, but I buy me
ginger ground, and dat is mixed I know. I tink
it is pea flour dey put wid it, dere is no smell in dat,
but it is de same colour — two ounces of ginger will
give de smell to one pound of pea flour. De public-
houses will have de sheap ginger and dat I buy.
I tell you de troot. How am I tell what will
become of me. Dat is de Almighty's work" (here
he pointed to Heaven). "De Jews is very good to
deir old people. If it was not for my old woman
I be like a gentleman now in de hospital at Mile
End; but you see, I marry de Christian woman,
and dat is against our people — and I would never
leave her — no not for all de good in de world to
come to myself. If I am poor, I not de only one.
In de holiday times I send a petition, and perhaps
dere is five shillings for me from de hospital. In
de Jews' Hospital dere is only ten — what you call
de Portuguese Jews. We have hospital to our
ownselves. Dere de old people — dey are all
above sixty — are all like noblemen, wid good
clothes, plenty to eat, go where you like, and pipe
of tobacco when you want. But I wont go in no
hospital away from my old woman. I will get a
bit of crust for her as long as I can stand — but I
can hardly do that now. Every one got his feel-
ing, and I will feel for her as long as I live.
When dere is de weather I have de rheumatis —
oh! very bad — sometime I can scarcely stand or
walk. I am seventy-tree, and it is a sad time for
me now. I am merry sometime tho'. Everyting
wid de pocket. When de pocket is merry, den I
am merry too. Sometime I go home wid one
shilling, and den I tink all gets worse and worse,
and what will become of me I say — but dat is
de Almighty's work, and I trust in him. Can I
trust any better one? Sometime I say I wish I
was back in my countree — and I tink of my poor
moder wat is dead now, and den I am very sad.
Oh yes, bless your heart, very sad indeed!"
[Description: 915EAF. Page 455.]
The old man appears to sell excellent articles,
and to be a very truthful, fair-dealing man.
| OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF MANUFACTURED ARTICLES. London Labour and the London Poor, volume 1 | |