 | OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF FISH. London Labour and the London Poor, volume 1 |  |
OF SPRAT-SELLING IN THE STREETS.
Sprats — one of the cheapest and most grateful
luxuries of the poor — are generally introduced
about the 9th of November. Indeed "Lord
Mayor's day" is sometimes called "sprat day."
They continue in about ten weeks. They are
sold at Billingsgate by the "toss," or "chuck,"
which is about half a bushel, and weighs from
40lbs. to 50lbs. The price varies from 1s. to 5s.
Sprats are, this season, pronounced remarkably
fine. "Look at my lot sir," said a street-seller
to me; "they're a heap of new silver," and the
bright shiny appearance of the glittering little
fish made the comparison not inappropriate.
In very few, if in any, instances does a
costermonger confine himself to the sale of
sprats, unless his means limit him to that one
branch of the business. A more prosperous
street-fishmonger will sometimes detach the
sprats from his stall, and his wife, or one of his
children will take charge of them. Only a few
sprat-sellers are itinerant, the fish being usually
sold by stationary street-sellers at "pitches."
One who worked his sprats through the streets,
or sold them from a stall as he thought best,
gave me the following account. He was dressed
in a newish fustian-jacket, buttoned close up his
chest, but showing a portion of a clean cotton
shirt at the neck, with a bright-coloured coarse
handkerchief round it; the rest of his dress was
covered by a white apron. His hair, as far as I
could see it under his cloth cap, was carefully
brushed, and (it appeared) as carefully oiled.
At the first glance I set him down as having
been a gentleman's servant. He had a some-
what deferential, though far from cringing
manner with him, and seemed to be about
twenty-five or twenty-six — he thought he was
older, he said, but did not know his age ex-
actly.
"Ah! sir," he began, in a tone according with
his look, "sprats is a blessing to the poor.
Fresh herrings is a blessing too, and sprats is
young herrings, and is a blessing in 'portion"
[for so he pronounced what seemed to be a
favourite word with him "proportion"]. "It's
only four years — yes, four, I'm sure of that —
since I walked the streets starving, in the depth
of winter, and looked at the sprats, and said, I
wish I could fill my belly off you. Sir, I hope
it was no great sin, but I could hardly keep my
hands from stealing some and eating them raw.
If they make me sick, thought I, the police 'll
take care of me, and that 'll be something.
While these thoughts was a passing through my
mind, I met a man who was a gentleman's
coachman; I knew him a little formerly, and so
I stopped him and told him who I was, and that
I hadn't had a meal for two days. `Well, by
G — ,' said the coachman, `you look like it,
why I shouldn't have known you. Here's a
shilling.' And then he went on a little way, and
then stopped, and turned back and thrust 3½d.
more into my hand, and bolted off. I've never
seen him since. But I'm grateful to him in the
[Description: 915EAF. Page 070.]
had a penn'orth of bread and a penn'orth of
cheese, and half-a-pint of beer, I felt a new man,
and I went to the party as I'd longed to steal
the sprats from, and told him what I'd thought
of. I can't say what made me tell him, but
it turned out for good. I don't know much
about religion, though I can read a little, but
may be that had something to do with it."
The rest of the man's narrative was — briefly
told — as follows. He was the only child of
a gentleman's coachman His father had de-
serted his mother and him, and gone abroad, he
believed, with some family. His mother, how-
ever, took care of him until her death, which
happened "when he was a little turned thirteen,
he had heard, but could not remember the
year." After that he was "a helper and a
jobber in different stables," and "anybody's
boy," for a few years, until he got a footman's,
or rather footboy's place, which he kept above
a year. After that he was in service, in and out
of different situations, until the time he speci-
fied, when he had been out of place for nearly
five weeks, and was starving. His master had
got in difficulties, and had gone abroad; so he
was left without a character. "Well, sir," he
continued, "the man as I wanted to steal the
sprats from, says to me, says he, `Poor fellow;
I know what a hempty belly is myself — come
and have a pint.' And over that there pint, he
told me, if I could rise 10s. there might be a
chance for me in the streets, and he'd show me
how to do. He died not very long after that,
poor man. Well, after a little bit, I managed
to borrow 10s. of Mr. — (I thought of him
all of a sudden). He was butler in a family
that I had lived in, and had a charitable cha-
racter, though he was reckoned very proud.
But I plucked up a spirit, and told him how
I was off, and he said, `Well, I'll try you,'
and he lent me 10s., which I paid him back,
little by little, in six or eight weeks; and
so I started in the costermonger line, with the
advice of my friend, and I've made from 5s. to
10s., sometimes more, a week, at it ever since.
The police don't trouble me much. They is civil
to me in 'portion (proportion) as I am civil to
them. I never mixed with the costers but when
I've met them at market. I stay at a lodging-
house, but it's very decent and clean, and I have
a bed to myself, at 1s. a week, for I'm a regular
man. I'm on sprats now, you see, sir, and you'd
wonder, sometimes, to see how keen people looks
to them when they're new. They're a blessing
to the poor, in 'portion (proportion) of course.
Not twenty minutes before you spoke to me,
there was two poor women came up — they was
sickly-looking, but I don't know what they was
— perhaps shirt-makers — and they says to me,
says they, `Show us what a penny plateful is.'
`Sart'nly, ladies,' says I. Then they whispered
together, and at last one says, says she, `We'll
have two platefuls.' I told you they was a
blessing to the poor, sir — 'specially to such as
them, as lives all the year round on bread and
tea. But it's not only the poor as buys; others
in 'portion (proportion). When they're new
they're a treat to everybody. I've sold them
to poor working-men, who've said, `I'll take
a treat home to the old 'oman and the kids;
they dotes on sprats.' Gentlemen's servants
is very fond of them, and mechanics comes
down — such as shoemakers in their leather
aprons, and sings out, `Here, old sprats, give
us two penn'orth.' They're such a relish. I sell
more to men than to women, perhaps, but
there's little difference. They're best stewed,
sir, I think — if you're fond of sprats — with
vinegar and a pick of allspice; that's my opi-
nion, and, only yesterday, an old cook said I
was right. I makes 1s. 6d. to 2s. 6d. a day,
and sometimes rather more, on my sprats, and
sticks to them as much as I can. I sell about
my `toss' a day, seldom less. Of course I can
make as many penn'orths of it as I please,
but there's no custom without one gives mid-
dling penn'orths. If a toss costs me 3s., I
may make sixty penn'orths of it sometimes —
sometimes seventy or more — and sometimes
less than sixty. There's many turns over as
much as me and more than that. I'm think-
ing that I'll work the country with a lot;
they'll keep to a second day, when they're
fresh to start, 'specially if its frosty weather,
too, and then they're better than ever — yes,
and a greater treat — scalding hot from the fire,
they're the cheapest and best of all suppers in
the winter time. I hardly know which way I'll
go. If I can get anythink to do among horses
in the country, I'll never come back. I've no
tie to London."
To show how small a sum of money will enable
the struggling striving poor to obtain a living,
I may here mention that, in the course of my
inquiries among the mudlarks, I casually gave
a poor shoeless urchin, who was spoken of by
one of the City Missionaries as being a well-
disposed youth, 1s. out of the funds that had
been entrusted to me to dispense. Trifling as
the amount appears, it was the means of
keeping his mother, sister, and himself through
the winter. It was invested in sprats, and
turned over and over again.
I am informed, by the best authorities, that
near upon 1000 "tosses" of sprats are sold
daily in London streets, while the season lasts.
These, sold retail in pennyworths, at very
nearly 5s. the toss, give about 150l. a day, or
say 1,000l. a week spent on sprats by the poorer
classes of the metropolis; so that, calculating
the sprat season to last ten weeks, about 10,000l.
would be taken by the costermongers during
that time from the sale of this fish alone.
Another return, furnished me by an eminent
salesman at Billingsgate, estimates the gross
quantity of sprats sold by the London costers
in the course of the season at three millions of
pounds weight, and this disposed of at the rate
of 1d. per pound, gives upwards of 12,000l. for
the sum of money spent upon this one kind
of fish.
| OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF FISH. London Labour and the London Poor, volume 1 | |