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 salesmen. 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, sometimes 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 “swopping,” 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 circumstances 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 sometimes 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 handkerchiefs. Their places of residence are, as regards the majority, in Spitalfields, Bethnal-green, and Shoreditch. 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 furnished 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, Chatham, 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 Tottenham, 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, Camberwell, and back by Newington; Kennington, Brixton, 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-shopman 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 barterers, 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 supplied 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 altogether 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” dispose 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 considerable 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 evenings 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 hucksters, and at the busy time my informant has often seen as many as 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 Staffordshire 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, however, 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-service 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, Bishopsgate-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 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 transaction. 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 unbeknown 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 sufficiently 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 overpowering. 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 between the seats push women with baskets of sheep’s trotters on their arms, and screaming, “Legs of mutton, two for a penny; who’ll give me a handsel—who’ll give me a handsel?” 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 considered 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 exchange 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, because 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 Wellingtons 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 handkerchief 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.

Of the “Swag,” Crockery, and Glass Shops.

In addition to the 150 general and particular “swag-shops,” or shops having a large collection of goods, of which I have spoken, there are twenty establishments for the sale of crockery and china, which I heard styled by persons in the trade “swag-crocks,” or “crock-shops.” The principle on which the trade is conducted in these places is the same as that of the swag-shops, inasmuch as the sales are wholesale, to street-sellers, shop-keepers, and shippers, but rarely to private individuals.

The crock swag-shops are to be found in the streets neighbouring Spitalfields market, and in and near to Liquorpond-street. As at the more general or miscellaneous swag-shops, the crock-swags make no display. In one of the most extensive, indeed, two large windows are filled with goods. Here are spirit-stands, with the invariable three bottles (invariable in the cheap trade), blue, green, or uncoloured; some lettered “gin,” “rum,” “brandy,” but most of them unlabelled. Here, too, are cruet-stands, and “pot” or spar figures under glass shades; and a number of many-coloured flower-glasses, some of them profusely gilded; and small china vases; but the glass wares greatly predominate. Although there are glass and colour and gilding enough to make “an imposing display,” the display is nevertheless anything but showy; the goods look dingy, and, if I may so speak of such things, faded. Some of the coloured glass seems to be losing its colour, and few of the wares have the bright look of newness.

The windows of these shops are, for the most part, literally packed to a certain height, so as almost to exclude the light, with pitchers, and basins, and cups, and jugs, and the sundry smaller articles of this multifarious trade, all undusted, and seemingly uncared for. In one “large concern” I saw a number of glass salt-cellars wrapped severally in paper, which had changed from white to a dusty brown, and which from age, and perhaps damp, seemed about to fall to tatters.

The “interiors” of some of these warehouses are very spacious. I saw one large and lofty shop, into which two apartments and a yard had been flung, the partitions having been taken down, and the ceilings supported by pillars, in order to “extend the premises.” It was really a hall of pots. On the floor were large crates, the tops removed so that the goods might be examined, packed, one with cups, another with saucers, a third with basins, and packed as only a potter could pack them. Intermixed with them were piles of blue-and-white dishes and plates, and, beside them, washing-pans, fitted one into another like the old hats on a Jew’s head. The pillars had their festoons of crockery, being hung with children’s white and gold mugs “for a good boy,” and with white metal-lidded and brown-bodied mustard pots, as well as other minor articles. The shelves were loaded with tea-services of many shapes and hues, while the unoccupied space was what sufficed to allow the warehousemen and the customers to thread the mazes of this labyrinth of crockerywares. Of the glass goods there was little display, as they are generally kept in cases and other packages, to preserve their freshness of appearance.

The crockery of the swag-shops is made in Staffordshire; the glass principally in Lancashire. At none of these establishments do they issue circulars of prices, such as I have cited of the general swag-shops. The articles are so very many, I was told, that to specify all the sizes and prices “would take a volume and a half.” I give a statement, however, of the prices of the goods most in demand, on the occasions when the street vendors sell them without barter, and the prices at which they are purchased wholesale: Blue-edged plates sold at 1d. each cost 1s. 8d. the dozen; this would appear to entail a loss of 8d. on every dozen sold, but in this article “30 is a dozen.” Dishes are bought at the “swag-crocks” in “nests,” which comprise 10 dishes, or 5 pairs, of different sizes. These the street crockman sells, if possible, in pairs, but he will sell them singly, for he can always make up the complement of his “nest” at the warehouse. The prices run, chiefly according to size, from 8d. to 1s. 6d. (sometimes 1s. 8d.) the pair. “The 8d. a pair,” said one street crock-seller, “costs me 6d., not a farthing under, and the 18d. a pair—it’s very seldom we can ‘draw’ 1s. 8d.—costs 1s. 2d. That’s all, sir; and the profit’s so small, it makes us keen to swop. I’ll swop for old clothes, or dripping, or grease, or anything. You see the profit, when you sells downright down, must be small, ’cause there’s so many pot-shops with prices marked on the plates and other things. They can buy better than us sometimes, and they’re hard to stand up against. If a woman says to me—for I very seldom deal with men—‘Why, they’re cheaper at D——’s, in Oxford-street,’—I answers, ‘And worser. I’ll tell you what it is, ma’am. The cheapest place was in two houses, painted all red, in the London-road. But one fine morning them two houses fell, and the pots was smashed as a matter of course. It was a judgment on their bad pots.’ But it’s a fact, sir, that these houses fell, about 7 or 8 years ago, I think, and I’ve seen goods, with one or two of ’em broken, offered for sale when the place was re-built, having been ‘rescued from the ruins; and at less than half price.’ Of course that was gammon. I’ve cracked and broke a few plates, myself, and sold them in the New Kent-road, and in Walworth and Newington, at half price, from the ruins, and at a very tidy profit.” A stone china tea-service, of 32 pieces—12 cups, 12 saucers, 4 bread-and-butter plates, a tea-pot, a sugar-basin, a slop-basin, and a cream-jug—is bought for 6s. 9d. while 9s. is asked for it, and sometimes obtained. A “china set” costs, as the general price, 10s. 6d., and for it 14s. is asked.

The glass wares are so very rarely sold—being the most attractive articles of barter—that I could hardly get any street-seller to state his prices. “Swop, sir,” I was told repeatedly, “they all goes in swop.” The glass goods, however, which are the most sold in the streets, I ascertained to be cream-jugs, those vended at 6d. each, costing 4s. the dozen; and flower-glasses, the most frequent price being 1s. a pair, the prime cost 7d.

I have estimated the sum turned over by the general swag-shops at 3000l. each. From what I can learn, the crock swag-shops, averaging the whole, turn over a larger sum, for their profits are smaller, ranging from 10 to 30 per cent., but rarely 30. Calculating, then, that each of these swag-shops turns over 4000l. yearly, we find 80,000l. expended, but this includes the sales to shopkeepers and to shippers, as well as to street-folk.

Of the Street-Sellers of Spar and China Ornaments, and of Stone Fruit.

“Spars,” as spar ornaments are called by the street-sellers, are sold to the retailers at only four places in London, and two in Gravesend (where the hawkers are for the most part supplied). The London spar-houses are—two in Westminster, one in Shoreditch, and one on Battle-bridge. None of them present any display of their goods which are kept in large drawers, closets, and packages. At Gravesend the spar-shops are handsome.

These wares are principally of Derbyshire spar, and made in Matlock; a few are German. The “spars” are hawked on a round, and are on fine Saturday nights offered for sale in the street and markets. The trade was unknown as a street, or a hawking trade in London, I am informed, until about twenty-five years ago, and then was not extensive, the goods, owing to the cost of carriage, &c., being high-priced. As public conveyance became more rapid, certain and cheap, the trade in spars increased, and cheaper articles were prepared for the London market. From ten to fifteen years ago the vendors of spars “did well in swop” (as street-sellers always call barters). The articles with which they tempted housewives were just the sort of article to which it was difficult for inexperienced persons to attach a value. They were massive and handsome ornaments, and the spar-sellers did not fail to expatiate on their many beauties. “God rest Jack Moody’s soul,” said an Irishman, now a crock-seller, to me; “Jack Moody was only his nick-name, but that don’t matter; God rist his sowl and the hivens be his bid. He was the boy to sell the spar-r’s. They was from the cavrents at the bottom of the say, he towld them, or from a new island in the frozen ocean. He did well; God rist him; but he died young.” The articles “swopped” were such as I have described in my account of the tradings of the crock-sellers; and if the “swop” were in favour of the spar-seller, still the customer became possessed of something solid, enduring, and generally handsome.

At the outset of the street or hawking trade, the spar-sellers carried their goods done up in paper, in strong baskets on their heads; the man’s wife sometimes carrying a smaller basket, with less burdensome articles, on her arm. Men have been known to start on a round, with a basket of spars, which would weigh from 1 cwt. to 1½ cwt. (or 12 stone). This, it must be remembered, might have to be borne for three or four miles into the suburbs, before its weight was diminished by a sale. One of these traders told me that twelve years ago he had sold spar watch-stands, weighing above 15 lbs. These stands were generally of a square form; the inner portion being open, except a sort of recess for the watch. “The tick sounds well on spar, I’ve often heard,” said one spar-seller.

Some of the spar ornaments are plain, white, and smooth. Of these many have flowers, or rims, or insects, painted upon them, and in brilliant colours. Those which are now in demand for the street sales, or for itinerant barterings, are—Small microscopes, candlesticks, inkstands, pin-cushions, mugs, paper-holders, match perfumery, and shaving-boxes, etc. The general price of these articles is 6d. to the street-seller or hawker, some of the dealers being licensed hawkers. The wholesale price varies from 2s. 6d. to 5s. per dozen; or an average of 3s. 9d. or 4s. Of the larger articles the most saleable are candlesticks, at from 1s. to 2s. 6d. each; from 1s. to 1s. 6d. being the most frequent price. Watch-stands and vases are now, I am told, in small demand. “People’s got stocked, I think,” one man said, “and there’s so much cheap glass and chaney work, that they looks on spars as heavy and old-fashioned.”

Some street-sellers have their spars in covered barrows, the goods being displayed when the top of the barrow is removed, so that the conveyance is serviceable whether the owner be stationary or itinerant. The spar-sellers, however, are reluctant to expose their goods to the weather, as the colours are easily affected.

In this trade I am informed that there are now twelve men, nine of whom are assisted by their wives, and that in the summer months there are eighteen. Their profits are about 15s. per week on an average of the whole year, including the metropolis and a wide range of the suburbs. What amount of money may be expended by the public in the street purchase of “spars” I am unable to state, so much being done in the way of barter; but assuming that there are fourteen sellers throughout the year, and that their profits are cent. per cent., there would appear to be about 1000l. per annum thus laid out.

Of stone fruit there are now usually six street sellers, and in fine weather eight. Eight or ten years ago there were twenty. The fruit is principally made at Chesterfield in Derbyshire, and is disposed of to the London street-sellers in the swag-shops in Houndsditch. Some of the articles, both as regards form and colour, are well executed; others are far too red or too green; but that, I was told, pleased children best. The most saleable fruits are apples, pears, peaches, apricots, oranges, lemons and cucumbers. The cucumbers, which are sometimes of pot as well as of stone, are often hollow, and are sometimes made to serve for gin-bottles, holding about a quartern.

The price at the swag-shops is 4s. 3d. for a gross of fruit of all kinds in equal quantities; for a better quality the price is 7s. 6d. The street-seller endeavours to get 1d. each for the lower priced, and 2d. for the higher, but has most frequently to be content with ½d. and 1d. The stone fruitmen are itinerant during the week and stationary in the street markets on Saturday, and sometimes other evenings. They carry their stock both in baskets and barrows. One man told me that he always cried, “Pick ’em out! pick ’em out! Half-penny each! Cheapest fruit ever seen! As good to-morrow as last week! Never lose flavour! Ever-lasting fruit.”

Supposing that there are six persons selling stone fruit in the streets through the year, and that each earns—and I am assured that is the full amount—9s. weekly (one man said 7s. 6d. was the limit of his weekly profits in fruit), we find 140l. received as profit on these articles, and calculating the gains at 33 per cent., an outlay of 420l.

The trade in China ornaments somewhat differs from the others I have described under the present head. It is both a street and a public-house trade, and is carried on both in the regular way and by means of raffles. At some public-houses, indeed, the China ornament dealers are called “rafflers.”

The “ornaments” now most generally sold or raffled are Joy and Grief (two figures, one laughing and the other crying); dancing Highlanders; mustard pots in the form of cottages, &c.; grotesque heads, one especially of an old man, which serves as a pepper-box, the grains being thrown through the eyes, nose, and mouth; Queen and Alberts (but not half so well as the others); and, until of late, Smith O’Briens. There are others, also, such as I have mentioned in my account of the general swag-shops, to the windows of many of which they form the principal furniture. Some of these “ornaments” sold “on the sly” can hardly be called obscene, but they are dirty, and cannot be further described.

The most lucrative part of the trade is in the raffling. A street-seller after doing what business he can, on a round or at a stand, during the day, will in the evening resort to public-houses, where he is known, and is allowed to offer his wares to the guests. The ornaments, in public-house sale, are hardly ever offered for less than 6d. each, or 6d. a pair. The raffling is carried on rapidly and simply. Dice are very rarely used new, and when used, provoke many murmurs from the landlords. The raffler of the China ornaments produces a portable roulette box or table—these tables becoming an established part of the street traffic—eight or ten inches in diameter. What may be called “the board” of some of these “roulettes” is numbered to thirty-two. It is set rapidly spinning on a pivot, a pea is then slipped through a hole in the lid of the box, and, when the motion has ceased, the pea is found in one of the numbered partitions. “Now, gentlemen,” a raffler told me he would say, “try your luck for this beautiful pair of ornaments; six of you at 1d. a piece. If you go home rather how came you so, show what you’ve bought for the old lady, and it’ll be all right and peaceful.” If six persons contribute 1d. each, the one “spinning” the highest number gains the prize, and is congratulated by the ornament seller on having gained for 1d. what was only too cheap at 6d. “Why, sir,” said a man who had recently left the trade for another calling, and who was anxious that I should not give any particular description of him, “in case he went back to the raffling,”—“Why, sir, I remember one Monday evening four or five months back, going into a parlour, not a tap-room, mind, where was respectable mechanics. They got to play with me, and got keen, and played until my stock was all gone. If one man stopped raffling, another took his place. I can’t recollect how many ornaments I raffled, but I cleared rather better than 3s. 6d. When there was no ornaments left they gave me 1d. a piece—there was eleven of them then—and a pint of beer to let them have the roulette till 12 o’clock; and away they went at it for beer and screws, and bets of 1d. and 2d. One young man that had been lucky in winning the ornaments got cleaned out, and staked his ornaments for 2d., or for a 1d. rather than not play. That sort of thing only happened to me once, to the same extent. If the landlord came into the room, of course they was only playing for drink, or he might have begun about his licence.”

The ornaments are bought at the swag shops I have described, and are nearly all of German make. They are retailed from 1d. and sometimes ½d. to 1s. each, and the profit is from 25 to 75 per cent. There are, I am informed, about thirty persons in this trade, two-thirds of them being rafflers, and their receipts being from 25s. to 30s. weekly. Most of them mix “fancy glass” goods and spars, and other articles, with their “ornament” trade, so that it is not easy to ascertain what is expended upon the china ornaments independently of other wares. If we calculate it at 10s. weekly (a low average considering the success of some of the raffles), we find 780l. expended in the streets in these ornamental productions.

Of the Street-Sellers of Textile Fabrics.

These street-folk present perhaps as great a diversity of character as any of which I have been called upon to treat.

Among them are the strong persevering men, who carry rolls of linen or cotton manufacture in packs on their backs, and trudge along holding a yard-wand by the middle, which—it is a not uncommon joke against them—is always worn down an inch or two, by being used as a walking-stick in their long pedestrian journeys. Such, however, is not the case, for the packman—when measuring is resorted to—generally shows the justice of his measure, or invites the purchaser to use her own yard-wand (for women are now their most frequent customers). Some of these men love to tell of the many hundreds of miles they have walked in their time, and in the three kingdoms. The most of those who make London, or any large town their head-quarters, and take regular journeys into the country, are licensed hawkers; those who confine their sales exclusively to London and its immediate vicinity, frequently conduct their business without incurring the annual cost of a licence. The penalty for hawking without a licence is 10l., or an imprisonment (in default of payment) not exceeding three months, with a discretionary power of mitigation to the magistrates. Some of these men may be styled hereditary hawkers, having first accompanied and then succeeded their parents on a round; some were in their youth assistants to hawkers; some had been unsuccessful as tallymen when shopkeepers, or travellers for tally-shops, and have resorted to hawking or street-trading, occasionally, in their transactions with different parties, blending the tally system with the simple rules of sale for ready money.

In striking contrast to these sturdy and often astute traders are the street-sellers of lace and millinery, the majority of whom are women. A walk through a street-market, especially on a Saturday evening, will show any one the frequent difference of the established street-milliner to the other female traders surrounding her stall. The milliner, as she is commonly called by the street-folk, wears a clean, and often tasty cap, beneath her closely-fitting bonnet, a cap in which artificial flowers are not wanting, should she sell those adornments. Her shawl is pinned beneath her collar; her gown, if it be old or of poor material, is clean; and she is rarely to be seen in boots or shoes made for men’s wear. Near her stall are stout, coarse-looking Irish girls, with unstringed bonnets, half-ragged shawls, thrown loose round their shoulders, necks red from exposure to the weather, coarse and never brushed, but sometimes scraped, shoes, when shoes are worn, and a general dirtiness of apparel. The street-milliners have been ladies’-maids, working milliners and dress-makers, the wives of mechanics who have been driven to the streets, and who add to the means of the family by conducting a street-trade themselves, with a sprinkling from other classes.

The street-sellers of lace are of the same class as the milliners, but with perhaps less smartness, and carrying on an inferior trade both as regards profit and display.

The street-sellers of boot and stay-laces and of such things as sewing cotton, threads and tapes, when sold separately from more valuable articles, are children and old people, some of whom are infirm, and some blind. The children have, in some instances, been bred to the streets; the old people probably are worn out in street-trades requiring health and strength, and so adopt a less laborious calling, or else they have been driven to it, either from comparatively better circumstances, or by some privation or affliction, in order to avoid the workhouse.

The sale of belts, stockings, braces, straps and garters, is mostly in the hands of men, who, from all that I can learn, are regular street-sellers, who “turn their hands first to this and then to that,” but this portion of street-traffic is often combined with the sale of dog-collars, chains, &c. The trade is more a public-house than a distinct traffic in the street. The landlord of a well-frequented inn in Lambeth told me that every day at least 100 of such street-sellers—not including match-girls and women—entered his house to offer their wares; the greatest number of such sellers was in the evening.

I have so far described what may be called the fair traders, but to them the street-sellers of textile fabrics are not confined. There are besides these, two other classes known as “Duffers” and as “Lumpers,” and sometimes the same man is both “Duffer” and “Lumper.” The two names are often confounded, but an intelligent street-seller, versed in all the arts and mysteries of this trade, told me that he understood by a “Duffer,” a man who sold goods under false pretences, making out that they were smuggled, or even stolen, so as to enhance the idea of their cheapness; whereas a “Lumper” would sell linens, cottons, or silks, which might be really the commodities represented; but which, by some management or other, were made to appear new when they were old, or solid when they were flimsy.

Of the Haberdashery Swag-Shops.

By this name the street-sellers have long distinguished the warehouses, or rather shops, where they purchase their goods. The term Swag, or Swack, or Sweg, is, as was before stated, a Scotch word, meaning a large collection, a “lot.” The haberdashery, however, supplied by these establishments is of a very miscellaneous character; which, perhaps, can best be shown by describing a “haberdashery swag,” to which a street-seller, who made his purchases there, conducted me, and which, he informed me, was one of the most frequented by his fraternity, if not the most frequented, in the metropolis.

The window was neither dingy, nor, as my companion expressed it, “gay.” It was in size, as well as in “dressing,” or “show”—for I heard the arrangement of the window goods called by both those names by street people—half-way between the quiet plainness of a really wholesale warehouse, and the gorgeousness of a retail drapery concern, when a “tremendous sacrifice” befools the public. Not a quarter of an inch of space was lost, and the announcements and prices were written many of them in a bungling school-boy-like hand, while others were the work of a professional “ticket writer,” and show the eagerness of so many of this class of trade to obtain custom. In one corner was this announcement: “To boot-makers. Boot fronts cut to any size or quality.” There was neither boot nor shoe visible, but how a boot front can be cut “to any quality,” is beyond my trade knowledge. Half hidden, and read through laces, was another announcement, sufficiently odd, in a window decorated with a variety of combustible commodities: “Hawkers supplied with fuzees cheaper than any house in London.” On the “ledge,” or the part shelving from the bottom of the window, within the shop, were paper boxes of steel purses with the price marked so loosely as to leave it an open question whether 1s. 0¾d. or 10¾d. was the cost. There was also a good store of silk purses, marked 2½d.; bright-coloured ribbons, in a paper box, and done up in small rolls, 1½d.; cotton reels, four a penny; worsted balls, three a penny; girls’ night-caps, 1¾d.; women’s caps, from 2¾d. to 7¾d.; (the ¾d. was always in small indistinct characters, but it was a very favourite adjunct); diamond patent mixed pins—London and Birmingham—1d. an oz. My companion directed my attention to the little packets of pins: “They’re well done up, sir, as you can see, and in very good and thick and strong pink papers, with ornamental printers’ borders, and plenty of paper for three ounces. The paper’s weighed with the pins, and the price is 1d. an oz.; so the paper fetches 1s. 4d. a pound.” There were also many papers of combs, and one tied outside the packet as a specimen, without a price marked upon them. “The price varies, sir;” said my guide and informant, and I heard the same account from others; “it varies from 1d. a pair to such as me; up to 6d. or perhaps 1s. to a servant-maid what looks innocent.”

From what appeared to be slender rods fitted higher up to the breadth of the window depended “black lace handkerchiefs, 4¾d.;” and cap fronts, some being a round wreath of gauze ornamented with light rose-coloured artificial flowers, and marked “only 5½d.;” together with lace (or edgings) which hung in festoons, and filled every vacancy. Higher up were braces marked 5d.; and more lace; and to the back of all was a sort of screen—for it shuts out all view of the inside of the shop—of big-figured shawls (the figures in purple, orange, and crimson) and of silk handkerchiefs: “They’re regular duffers,” I was told, “and very tidy duffers too—very, for it’s a respectable house.”

In the centre of the window ledge was a handsome wreath of artificial flowers, marked 2½d. “If a young woman was to go in to buy it at 2½d., I’ve seen it myself, sir,” said the street-seller “she’s told that the ticket has got out of its place, for it belonged to the lace beneath, but as she’d made a mistake without thinking of the value, the flowers was 1s. 6d. to her, though they was cheap at 2s. 6d.”

From this account it will be seen that the swag or wholesale haberdashers are now very general traders; and that they trade “retail” as well as “wholesale.” Twenty or twenty-five years ago, I am informed, the greater part of these establishments were really haberdashery swags; but so fierce became the competition in the trade, so keen the desire “to do business,” that gradually, and more especially within these four or five years, they became “all kinds of swags.”

A highly respectable draper told me that he never could thoroughly understand where hosiery, haberdashery, or drapery, began or ended; for hosiers now were always glovers, and often shirt-makers; haberdashers were always hosiers (at the least), and drapers were everything; so that the change in the character of the shops from which the street-sellers of textile fabrics procure their supplies, is but in accordance with the change in the general drapery trade. The literal meaning of the word haberdashery is unknown to etymologists.

There are now about fifty haberdashery swags resorted to by street-sellers, but only a fifth part of them make the trade to street-sellers a principal, while none make it a sole feature of their business. In the enumeration of the fifty haberdashery “swags,” five are large and handsome shops carried on by “cutting” drapers. Some of these—one in the borough, especially—do not “serve” the street-sellers, except at certain hours, generally from four to six.

There is another description of shops from which a class of street traders derive their supplies of stock. These are the “print-brokers,” who sell “gown-pieces” to the hawkers or street-traders. Only about a dozen of such shops, and those principally in the borough and in Wormwood-street, Bishopsgate, are frequented by the London street-sellers. One man showed me a draper’s shop, at which hawkers were “supplied,” but without an announcement of such a thing, as it might affect the character of the concern for gentility. The gown-pieces were rolled loosely together, and to each was attached a ticket, 2s. 11d. or 3s. 11d., with intermediate prices, but those here mentioned were the most frequent. The 11d. was in pencil, so that it could be altered at any time, without the expense of a new ticket being incurred. “That one marked 2s. 11d.,” said the street-seller, “would be charged to me 2s. 2d., and the 3s. 11d. in the same way 3s. 2d., or I might get it at 3s. If those gown-pieces don’t take—and they are almost as thin as silver-paper,—they’ll be marked down to 2s. 2d. and 3s. 2d., just by degrees, as you see them shown in the window.” The regular “print-brokers” make no display in their windows or premises.

The “duffers” and “lumpers” are supplied almost entirely at one shop in the east end. The proprietor has the sham, or inferior, silk handkerchiefs manufactured for the purpose; and for the supply of his other silk-goods, he purchases any silk “miscoloured” in the dyeing, or faded from time. “A faded lavender,” one of his customers told me, “he’ll get dyed black, and made to look quite new and fresh. Sometimes it’s good silk, but it’s mostly very dicky.” This tradesman is also a retailer.

Such things as braces and garters are sold to the street people at the general as well as the haberdashery swag-shops; and are more frequently sold wholesale than other goods; indeed the general swag-shop keepers sell them by no other way; but the “wholesale haberdashers” will sell a single pair, though not, of course, at wholesale price. Some houses again supply the more petty street-sellers, solely with such articles as are known in Manchester by the name of small-ware, including thread, cotton, tapes, laces, &c.

Of Hawkers, Pedlars, and Petty Chapmen.

The machinery for the distribution of commodities has, in this and in all other “progressive” countries, necessarily undergone many changes; but whether these changes have been beneficial to the community, or not, this is not the place for me to inquire; all I have to do here is to set forth the order of such changes, and to show the position that the hawker and pedlar formerly occupied in the state.

The “distributor” of the produce of the country is necessarily a kind of go-between, or middleman, introduced for the convenience of bringing together the producer and consumer—the seller and the buyer of commodities. The producer of a particular commodity being generally distinct from the consumer, it follows, that either the commodity must be carried to the consumer, or the consumer go to the commodity. To save time and trouble to both parties, it seems to have been originally arranged that producer and consumer should meet, periodically, at appointed places. Such periodical meetings of buyers and sellers still exist in this and many other countries, and are termed either fairs or markets, according as they are held at long or short intervals—the fair being generally an annual meeting, and the market a weekly one. In the olden time the peculiar characteristic of these commercial congregations was, that the producer and consumer came into immediate contact, without the intervention of any middleman. The fair or market seemed to be a compromise between the two, as to the inconvenience of either finding the other when wanted. The producer brought his goods, so to speak, half way to the consumer, while the consumer travelled half way to the goods. “There would be a great waste of time and trouble,” says Stewart Mill, “and an inconvenience often amounting to impracticability, if consumers could only obtain the article they want by treating directly with the producers. Both producers and consumers are too much scattered, and the latter often at too great a distance from the former.”

“To diminish this loss of time and labour,” continues Mr. Mill, “the contrivance of fairs and markets was early had recourse to, where consumers and producers might periodically meet, without any intermediate agency; and this plan still answers tolerably well for many articles, especially agricultural produce—agriculturists having at some seasons a certain quantity of spare time on their hands. But even in this case, attendance is often very troublesome and inconvenient to buyers who have other occupations, and do not live in the immediate vicinity; while, for all articles the production of which requires continuous attention from the producers, these periodical markets must be held at such considerable intervals, and the wants of the consumers must either be provided for so long beforehand, or must remain so long unsupplied, that even before the resources of society permitted the establishment of shops, the supply of those wants fell universally into the hands of itinerant dealers, the pedlars who might appear once a month, being preferred to the fair, which only returned once a year. In country districts, remote from towns or large villages, the vocation of the pedlar is not yet wholly superseded. But a dealer who has a fixed abode, and fixed customers,” continues Mr. Mill, “is so much more to be depended on, that customers prefer resorting to him, if he is conveniently accessible; and dealers, therefore, find their advantage in establishing themselves in every locality where there are sufficient consumers near at hand to afford them remuneration.”

Thus we see that the pedlar was the original distributor of the produce of the country—the primitive middleman, as well as the prime mover in extending the markets of particular localities, or for particular commodities. He was, as it were, the first “free-trader;” increasing the facilities for the interchange of commodities, without regard to market dues or tolls, and carrying the natural advantages of particular districts to remote and less favoured places; thus enabling each locality to produce that special commodity for which it had the greatest natural convenience, and exchanging it for the peculiar produce of other parts.

Now, this extension of the markets necessarily involved some machinery for the conveyance of the goods from one district to another. Hence, the pedlar was not only the original merchant, but the primitive carrier—to whom, perhaps, we owe both our turnpike-roads and railways. For, since the peculiar characteristic of the pedlar was the carrying the produce to the consumer, rather than troubling the consumer to go after the produce, of course it soon became necessary, as the practice increased, and increased quantities of goods had to be conveyed from one part of the country to another, that increased facilities of transit should be effected. The first change was from the pack-man to the pack-horse: for the former a foot-way alone was required; while the latter necessitated the formation of some kind of a road. Some of these ancient pack-horse roads existed till within these few years. Hagbush-lane, which was described by William Hone only twenty years ago, but which has now vanished, was the ancient bridle or pack-horse road from London to the North, and extended by the Holloway back road as far as the City-road, near Old-street. “Some parts of Hagbush-lane,” says Hone, “are much lower than the meadows on either side.” At one time a terraced ridge, at another a deep rut, the pack-horse road must have been to the unaccustomed traveller a somewhat perilous pass. The historian of Craven, speaking of 1609, says, “At this time the communication between the north of England and the Universities was kept up by the carriers, who pursued their long but uniform route with trains of pack-horses. To their care were consigned packages, and not unfrequently the persons of young scholars. It was through their medium, also, that epistolary correspondence was managed; and as they always visited London, a letter could scarcely be exchanged between Yorkshire and Oxford in less time than a month.” The General Post Office was established by Act of Parliament in the year 1660, and all letters were to be sent through this office, “except such letters as shall be sent by coaches, common-known carriers of goods by carts, waggons, and pack-horses, and shall be carried along with their carts, waggons, and pack-horses respectively.”

“There is no such conveyance as a waggon in this country” (Scotland), says Roderick Random, referring to the beginning of the last century, “and my finances were too weak to support the expense of hiring a horse. I determined therefore to set out with the carriers, who transport goods from one place to another on horseback; and this scheme I accordingly put in execution on the 1st day of November, 1739, sitting on a pack-saddle between two baskets, one of which contained my goods in a knapsack. But by the time we arrived at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, I was so fatigued with the tediousness of the carriage, and benumbed with the coldness of the weather, that I resolved to travel the rest of my journey on foot, rather than proceed in such a disagreeable manner.”

The present mode of travelling, compared with that of the pack-horse means of conveyance as pursued of old, forms one of the most striking contrasts, perhaps, in all history.

Hence we see that the pedlar was originally both carrier and seller; first conveying his pack on his back, and then, as it increased in bulk, transferring it to the back of “the pack-horse.” But as soon as the practice of conveying the commodities to the buyers, instead of compelling the buyers to go to the commodities, was found to be advantageous to both consumer and producer, it was deemed expedient that the two distinct processes of carriage and sale, which are included in the distribution of commodities, should be conducted by distinct persons, and hence the carrying and selling of goods became separate vocations in the State; and such is now the machinery by which the commodities of different parts of this country, as well as of others, are at present diffused over the greater portion of this kingdom. In remote districts however, and the poorer neighbourhoods of large towns, where there are either too few consumers, or too few commodities required now to support a fixed distributor with a distinct apparatus of transit, the pedlar still continues to be the sole means of diffusing the produce of one locality among the inhabitants of another; and it is in this light—as the poor man’s merchant—that we must here consider him.

Among the more ancient of the trades, then, carried on in England is that of the hawker or pedlar. It is generally considered, as I said before, that hawking “is as ancient a mode of trade as that carried on in fairs and markets, towns and villages, as well as at the castles of the nobles or the cottages of their retainers.” To fix the origin of fairs is impossible, for, in ancient and mediæval times, every great gathering was necessarily a fair. Men—whom it is no violence to language to call “hawkers”—resorted alike to the Olympic games and to the festivals of the early Christian saints, to sell or barter their wares. Of our English fairs Mr. Jacob says, in his “Law Dictionary”—“Various privileges have been annexed to them, and numerous facilities afforded to the disposal of property in them. To give them a greater degree of solemnity, they were originally, both in the ancient and modern world, associated with religious festivals. In most places, indeed, they are still held on the same day with the wake or feast of the saint to whom the church is dedicated; and till the practice was prohibited, it was customary in England to hold them in churchyards. This practice, I may add, was not fully prohibited until the reign of Charles II., although it had long before fallen into disuse. Thus the connection between church and market is shown to be of venerable antiquity.”

The hawker dealt, in the old times, more in textile fabrics than in anything else. Indeed, Shakspere has dashed off a catalogue of his wares, in the song of Autolycus: