University of Virginia Library

OF THE EARNINGS OF COSTERMONGERS.

The earnings of the costermonger — the next
subject of inquiry that, in due order, presents
itself — vary as much as in more fashionable
callings, for he is greatly dependent on the
season, though he may be little affected by Lon-
don being full or empty.

Concurrent testimony supplied me with the
following estimate of their earnings. I cite the
average earnings (apart from any charges or
drawbacks), of the most staple commodities:

In January and February the costers generally
sell fish. In these months the wealthier of the
street fishmongers, or those who can always com-
mand "money to go to market," enjoy a kind of
monopoly. The wintry season renders the supply
of fish dearer and less regular, so that the poorer
dealers cannot buy "at first hand," and some-
times cannot be supplied at all; while the others
monopolise the fish, more or less, and will not
sell it to any of the other street-dealers until a
profit has been realised out of their own regular
customers, and the demand partially satisfied.
"Why, I've known one man sell 10l. worth of
fish — most of it mackarel — at his stall in
Whitecross-street," said a costermonger to me,
"and all in one snowy day, in last January.
It was very stormy at that time, and fish came
in unregular, and he got a haul. I've known
him sell 2l. worth in an hour, and once 2l. 10s. worth, for I then helped at his stall. If people
has dinner parties they must have fish, and
gentlemen's servants came to buy. The average earnings however of those that "go rounds"
in these months are computed not to exceed 8s. a week; Monday and Saturday being days of
little trade in fish.

"March is dreadful," said an itinerant fish
seller to me; "we don't average, I'm satisfied,
more nor 4s. a week. I've had my barrow idle
for a week sometimes — at home every day,
though it had to be paid for, all the same. At
the latter end of March, if it's fine, it's 1s. a
week better, because there's flower roots in —
`all a-growing,' you know, sir. And that lasts
until April, and we then make above 6s. a week.
I've heard people say when I've cried `all a-
growing' on a fine-ish day, `Aye, now summer's
a-coming.' I wish you may get it, says I to
myself; for I've studied the seasons."

In May the costermonger's profit is greater.
He vends fresh fish — of which there is a greater
supply and a greater demand, and the fine and
often not very hot weather insures its freshness —
and he sells dried herrings and "roots" (as they
are called) such as wall-flowers and stocks.
The average earnings then are from 10s. to
12s. a week.

In June, new potatoes, peas, and beans tempt
the costermongers' customers, and then his earn-
ings rise to 1l. a week. In addition to this 1l., if the season allow, a costermonger at the end of
the week, I was told by an experienced hand,
"will earn an extra 10s. if he has anything of
a round," "Why, I've cleared thirty shillings
myself," he added, "on a Saturday night."

In July cherries are the principal article of
traffic, and then the profit varies from 4s. to 8s.

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a day, weather permitting, or 30s. a week on a
low average. On my inquiry if they did not
sell fish in that month, the answer was, "No,
sir; we pitch fish to the — ; we stick to
cherries, strawberries, raspberries, and ripe
currants and gooseberries. Potatoes is getting
good and cheap then, and so is peas. Many a
round's worth a crown every day of the week."

In August, the chief trading is in Orleans
plums, green-gages, apples and pears, and in
this month the earnings are from 5s. to 6s. a
day. [I may here remark that the costermon-
gers care little to deal in either vegetables or
fish, "when the fruit's in," but they usually
carry a certain supply of vegetables all the year
round, for those customers who require them.]

In September apples are vended, and about
2s. 6d. a day made.

In October "the weather gets cold," I was
told, "and the apples gets fewer, and the day's
work's over at four; we then deals most in fish,
such as soles; there's a good bit done in oysters,
and we may make 1s. or 1s. 6d. a day, but it's
uncertain."

In November fish and vegetables are the chief
commodities, and then from 1s. to 1s. 6d. a day
is made; but in the latter part of the month an
extra 6d. or 1s. a day may be cleared, as sprats
come in and sell well when newly introduced.

In December the trade is still principally in
fish, and 12d. or 18d. a day is the costermonger's
earnings. Towards the close of the month he
makes rather more, as he deals in new oranges
and lemons, holly, ivy, &c., and in Christmas
week he makes 3s. or 4s. a day.

These calculations give an average of about
14s. 6d. a week, when a man pursues his trade
regularly. One man calculated it for me at 15s. average the year through — that is supposing,
of course, that the larger earnings of the sum-
mer are carefully put by to eke out the winter's
income. This, I need hardly say, is never done.
Prudence is a virtue, which is comparatively
unknown to the London costermongers. They
have no knowledge of savings'-banks; and to
expect that they themselves should keep their
money by them untouched for months (even if
they had the means of so doing) is simply to
expect impossibilities — to look for the continued
withstanding of temptation among a class who
are unused to the least moral or prudential
restraint.

Some costers, I am told, make upwards of 30s. a week all the year round; but allowing for ces-
sations in the street-trade, through bad weather,
neglect, ill-health, or casualty of any kind, and
taking the more prosperous costers with the less
successful — the English with the Irish — the
men with the women — perhaps 10s. a week may
be a fair average of the earnings of the entire
body the year through.

These earnings, I am assured, were five years
ago at least 25 per cent higher; some said they
made half as much again: "I can't make it
out how it is," said one man, "but I remember
that I could go out and sell twelve bushel of
fruit in a day, when sugar was dear, and now,
when sugar's cheap, I can't sell three bushel on
the same round. Perhaps we want thinning."

Such is the state of the working-classes; say
all the costers, they have little or no money to
spend. "Why, I can assure you," declared one of
the parties from whom I obtained much import-
ant information, "there's my missis — she sits at
the corner of the street with fruit. Eight years
ago she would have taken 8s. out of that street
on a Saturday, and last Saturday week she had
one bushel of apples, which cost 1s. 6d. She
was out from ten in the morning till ten at night,
and all she took that day was 1s. 7½d. Go to
whoever you will, you will hear much upon the
same thing." Another told me, "The costers
are often obliged to sell the things for what they
gave for them. The people haven't got money
to lay out with them — they tell us so; and if
they are poor we must be poor too. If we can't
get a profit upon what goods we buy with our
stock-money, let it be our own or anybody's
else, we are compelled to live upon it, and when
that's broken into, we must either go to the
workhouse or starve. If we go to the workhouse,
they'll give us a piece of dry bread, and abuse us
worse than dogs." Indeed, the whole course of
my narratives shows how the costers generally —
though far from universally — complain of the
depressed state of their trade. The following
statement was given to me by a man who, for
twelve years, had been a stall-keeper in a street-
market. It shows to what causes he (and I
found others express similar opinions) attributes
the depression: —

"I never knew things so bad as at present —
never! I had six prime cod-fish, weighing 15lbs.
to 20lbs. each, yesterday and the day before, and
had to take two home with me last night, and
lost money on the others — besides all my time,
and trouble, and expense. I had 100 herrings,
too, that cost 3s. — prime quality, and I only sold
ten out of them in a whole day. I had two pads
of soles, sir, and lost 4s. — that is one pad — by
them. I took only 4s. the first day I laid in this
stock, and only 2s. 6d. the next; I then had to
sell for anything I could get, and throw some
away. Yet, people say mine's a lazy, easy life.
I think the fall off is owing to meat being so
cheap, 'cause people buy that rather than my
goods, as they think there's more stay in it.
I'm afeard things will get worse too." (He then
added by way of sequitur, though it is difficult
to follow the reasoning,) "If this here is free-
trade, then to h — with it, I say!"