Kitchen of a Lodging House, 1886 [ILN Picture Library]Yesterday an inquest was held at the Horse Shoe and Magpie, Saffron Hill, before THOMAS STIRLING, Esq., Coroner, on the body of James Parkinson, aged 36, who came by his death under the following circumstances. The Jury proceeded to view the body of the deceased, which lay in the upper part of a low lodging-house for travellers, in West Street, Saffron Hill. It was in a high state of decomposition, and a report was generally circulated that he had come by his death by unfair means.
The Morning Herald, Feb.11, 1834
Upon one occasion we accompanied a gentleman in the lucifer and congreve line home to supper. We have a
particular old coat, fustian trousers, and affecting hat, which we don for these select
parties, and pass muster very tolerably with the help of chin unshaven, and
dirty hands, as a “Needy," or “cove down on his luck." The hotel
was situate in a court within a court of Drury Lane; there were five small houses
in the alley, all belonging to the same proprietor, and forming part of the same
establishment. Two of the houses were laid out in single beds, for the better class of visitors ;
by which we must be understood delicately to allude to begging-letter
writers, the lower class of impostors, and swindlers, and the inferior tribes of
area sneaks, and pickpockets. The department which we may properly designate
as the private or family hotel, furnished beds at four-pence a-night, with
" Sundays out," or two shillings per week, with the usual
accommodation. The sheets and bedding are coarse but tolerably clean, and the accommodation no worse than is to be found in many sixpenny
lodging-houses in the country.
The two next houses were adapted to a threepenny standard,
and the remaining mansion was laid down in a crop of tolerable straw, for those customers whose means were limited to a penny, or who were
suspected of an inclination for a night's lodging without any means at all.
For the common use of all the guests, the lower rooms of the two
middle, or threepenny houses, were knocked into a tolerably spacious
coffee-room; the walls ingeniously papered with ballads, and the ceilings
fantastically ornamented in arabesque, with waving lines executed in a masterly
style in smoke of candle. A capital fire - fire in these hotels is three parts
of the accommodation - blazed at both ends of the apartment; and near lay the
common saucepan, gridiron, and frying-pan of the establishment.
Our friend the lucifer-merchant entered without observation, but
we were not permitted to escape in the same unostentatious manner : something
of the policeman in disguise may have lurked about us ; and it was not till we
had reassured the company by announcing our profession, as a jigger (or
manufacturer of illicit spirits), that we were received with the usual welcome
of these hostelries, an invitation to “stand treat."
It is not safe to be suspected of being " flush" of money in these
parts. We accordingly preferred stripping off our waistcoat fbr the "spout," with an alacrity that shewed at once our desire to drink
and oblige the company. With this, a young gentleman, incurably lame from white swelling of the knee, was despatched as being
swiftest of foot, and speedily returning with a gallon of beer, a quartern of gin, and " the ticket," we were disposed to be as merry
as our unfortunate circumstances permitted.
Of the company we can say but little, and that little not very
good. A group of well-dressed young gentlemen from the fourpenny “ken" monopolized the upper end of the apartment, looking
with great contempt upon the more ragged frequenters of the room, who,
however, were not backward in reciprocating their aversion for those “conveyancers
" of the swell-mob. We had, at our less exclusive end of the house, a young
gentleman in the epileptic line, who made a good thing of it, and reciprocated
our treat with unhesitating hospitality; his secret lay in a composition, which
he introduced into his nostrils, and which, when he fell heavily on the
pavement, on the approach of kindly-hearted looking ladies, or elderly
benevolent gentlemen, appearing in the unequivocal shape of a bloody-nose, was
an almost certain passport, through the heart, to the pocket. We had a
street-conjurer, who performed divers tricks upon cards to admiration, but at this time got a living by selling a toy called “bandalore,"
which he exhibited for our entertainment, acquainting us at the same time that this curious instrument was invented especially
for the amusement of King George the Fourth.
We had a very knowing fellow, whose profession was that of a
fool ; he wore a military uniform, with worsted epaulets, trowsers with a red stripe, and a cocked hat and feather, broadside, on his
head. This gentleman had seen much life, possessed a fund of anecdote, and seemed the life and soul of the society.
Two gentlemen "griddlers," or itinerant psalm-singers, favoured
us with their experiences upon circuit. In your life you never saw a brace of such sanctimonious-looking rascals ; they had doffed the
professional whine and snuffle with which, in the course of the day, they had essayed about Hackney or Clapham Rise : for they confined
themselves strictly to dissenting neighbourhoods, the sympathies of the godly ; but still retained the dusky suit, the cropped and
shaven head and face. Merrier rascals could not be found, though the tone of their conversation, in a moral point of view, was by no manner
of means unobjectionable. However, we could not look upon them with the proper intensity of dislike, knowing what splendid
examples were afforded them of hypocrisy in loftier spheres.
We also had a brace of "shally-coves," or shipwrecked sailors who
had never seen the sea. There was a distressed Pole, born in Silver court, Golden lane, who spoke excellent French, and had served at
the battle of Warsaw. The rest of the company chose to preserve a strict incognito, though there can be no doubt they were persons
of the first importance - to themselves.
We had for supper - Lucifer and I - very choice “fagots" from
the nearest cook-shop ; “small Germans," and a “polony "
a-piece, with a kidney-pudding and baked “'taturs" fresh from the pieman at the corner. The military
gentleman - or Captain, as he was familiarly called, sported a pork-chop and a pot of beer ; the “shally
coves" rejoiced in bread, cheese, and onions ; but the grand resource of the majority was the baked
'tatur and kidney pudding. Some there were who appeared not t.o be in funds; but they
wanted nothing, for all that: there was no ceremony ; everybody asked everybody “Will you have a bit of mine?" and everybody
who wanted it, made no ceremony of saying, " Thank you, if you have it to spare."
When supper was over, we formed a wide circle round one of the
fires; the gentleman of the white swelling jumped Jim Crow, and he of the epilepsy rehearsed his “point" in the falling sickness.
The Captain entertained us with a history of his adventures in the West, as a soi-disant soldier of the Anglo-Spanish Legion. The distressed
Pole sat down to write a begging-letter for one of the “shally-coves," who had been shipwrecked off the Isles of
Scilly, and was then making his way home to a widowed mother in any part of England. The “griddlers " sang songs of a highly questionable
character. The street-conjurer and the gentlemen of the swell mob played at cards ; and the
lucifer-man deplored the competition in the congreve line, and hinted to me that he should be glad to try
his hand at the “jiggering" department.
John Fisher Murray, The Physiology of London Life , in Bentley's Miscellany, 1844
see also Hector Gavin in Sanitary Ramblings - click here
see also Henry Mayhew in London Labour and the London Poor - click here
see also Henry Mayhew's Letter III in the Morning Chronicle - click here
see also Henry Mayhew's Letter IV in Morning Chronicle - click here
see also Henry Mayhew's Letter V in the Morning Chronice - click here
see also Henry Mayhew's Letter VI in the Morning Chronicle - click here
see also Henry Mayhew's Letter XXX in the Morning Chronicle - click here
see also Henry Mayhew's Letter XXXI in the Morning Chronicle - click here
see also George Sala in Gaslight and Daylight - click here
see also Thomas Archer in The Pauper, The Thief and the Convict - click here
see also Thomas Wright in Some Habits and Customs of the Working Classes - click here
see also Thomas Archer in The Terrible Sights of London - click here (1) (2)
see also James Greenwood in In Strange Company - click here (1) (2)
Common Lodging Houses.—The Common Lodging House Act has worked a
marvellous revolution in the housing of the London poor. Every establishment of the kind
throughout the metropolis is now under direct and continual police supervision; every
room being inspected and measured before occupation, and having a placard hung up in
each stating the number of beds for which it is licensed, calculated upon the basis of a
minimum allowance of space for each person. Every bed, moreover, has to be furnished
weekly with a complete supply of fresh linen, whilst careful provision is made for the
ventilation of the rooms, the windows of which are also thrown open throughout the
house at 10 am., at which hour the night's tenancy of the occupant is supposed to
terminate. In its way there are few things more striking, especially to those whose
acquaintance with the slums and rookeries of London dates from before the passing of
this admirable Act, than the comparative sweetness of these dormitories, even when
crowded with tramps and thieves of the lowest class. The common sitting-rooms on the
ground floor are not it must be confessed, always equally above reproach. But even with
the worst the upstairs region is at least comparatively sweet, and there are but very few
that, in point of atmosphere, need shrink from comparison with any ordinary London
lodging at £1 1s. or £1 10s. a week. In all cases, too, the men's and women's dormitories
are separate; rooms devoted to married couples being partitioned off exactly in the
fashion of the old square-pewed churches, and into separate pens upon about the same
scale. The mixed lodging-houses— or those at which both sexes are received—are
comparatively few, the general practice being for each house to confine itself to one
class. All have a common sitting-room on the ground floor, with a fire at which the
lodgers can cook their own victuals which in most cases has to be purchased at one of the
small shops in which the neighbourhood abounds and where bread, cheese, dripping,
bacon vegetables and indeed almost every kind of food, can be obtained in halfpenny
portions. In a few instances these supplies can be obtained in the house itself. About the
best sample of this kind of establishment extant will be found at St. George's chambers,
St. George's-street, London-docks (vulgo, Ratcliff-highway), a thorough poor man's
hotel where a comfortable bed with use of sitting-room, cooking apparatus and fire, and
laundry accommodation, soap included, can be had for 4d. a night, all kinds of provisions
being obtainable in the bar at proportionate rates. To any one interested in the condition
of the London poor, this establishment is well worth a journey to the East-end to visit. On
the other hand the following is a list of streets or places in the metropolis in which
common lodging houses of the lower class are situate:
|
POLICE
DIV. |
STREET
OR PLACE (Parish) |
|
B. |
‘Old
Rye-street, *Perkins-rents, St. Ann-street, *Orchard-street, Great Peter-
street, end Dacre-st (Westminster) |
|
|
*Turk’s-row
(Chelsea) |
|
C. |
Castle-street
(St. Martin’s) |
|
D. |
Bell-street
and Little Grove-street (St. Marylebone) |
|
E. |
Macklin-street,
*Short’s-gardens, *Parker.street, *Queen-street, Dyott-street,
*Kennedy-court (St. Giles) |
|
|
Fulwood’s-rents
and Dean-street (Holborn) |
|
|
Market-street,
Fitzroy-market (St. Pancras) |
|
G. |
*Golden-lane,
*New-court, *Nicholl’s-buildings (St. Luke’s) |
|
|
Portpool-lane,
*Holborn-buildings (Holborn) |
|
H. |
*Flower
and Dean-street and neighbourhood, Dorset-street, and Paternoster row
(Christchurch) |
|
|
Nicolls-row
(Bethnal Green) |
|
K. |
Cable-street
(St. George East) |
|
|
St.
Ann-street and West India-road (Limehouse)
|
|
L. |
Broadwall,
Great Charlotte-street (Christchurch) |
|
|
Hooper-street,
Tower-street Princes-street (Lambeth)
|
|
M. |
The
Mint, Tabard-street, Orange-street, *Union-street (Southwark) |
|
R. |
*Hill-lane,
New King-street, Watergate-street (Deptford) |
|
|
*Lower
East-street (East Greenwich) |
|
|
Canon-row,
Rope-yard-rails, and the lower end of High-street (Woolwich)
|
|
S. |
Brewhouse-lane
(Hampstead) |
|
T. |
Brook-green-place
(Hammersmith) |
|
|
Peel-street,
Notting-hill (Kensington) |
|
V. |
Garratt-lane
(Wandsworth) |
|
W. |
Wandsworth-road,
Vauxhall (Lambeth) |
|
X. |
Bangor-street,
Crescent-street, St. Clement’s-road, and Walmer-road (Kensington) |
|
Y. |
Queen’s-road,
Holloway (Islington) |
Charles Dickens (Jr.), Dickens's Dictionary of London, 1879
Kitchen of a Lodging House, 1886 [ILN Picture Library]
see also J.Ewing Ritchie in Days and Nights in London - click here
see also Richard Rowe in Life in the London Streets - click here (1) (2)
see also George Sims in How the Poor Live - click here
see also James Greenwood in Toilers in London - click here
see also James Greenwood in Mysteries of Modern London - click here