“The smoky, though well-built, town of Sheffield was now near at hand. The daylight was past, and the ‘shades of the evening were stretching out;’ we were therefore enabled to journey through the thoroughfares without impertinent remarks, or perhaps any observation, except from a toothless old woman, of John Wesley’s school, who was ‘sorry to see two such nice young people going about the country,’ and wondered if we ‘ever thought of eternity!’
“After a somewhat tedious ramble, we arrived at Water-lane;—at the ‘Bug-trap,’ which from time immemorial has been the name of the most renowned lodging-house in that or perhaps any locality. Water-lane is a dark narrow street, crowded with human beings of the most degraded sort—the chosen atmosphere of cholera, and the stronghold of theft and prostitution. In less than half an hour, my fair companion and myself were sipping our tea, and eating Yorkshire cake in this same lodging-house.
“‘God bless every happy couple!’ was echoed from a rude stentorian voice, while a still ruder hand bumped down upon our tea-table a red earthen dish of no small dimensions, into which was poured, from the mouth of a capacious bag, fragments of fish, flesh, and fowl, viands and vegetables of every sort, intermingled with bits of cheese and dollops of Yorkshire pudding. The man to whom this heterogeneous mass belonged, appeared anything but satisfied with his lot. ‘Well,’ said he, ‘I don’t know what this ’ere monkry will come to, after a bit. Three bob and a tanner, and that there dish o’ scran’ (enough to feed two families for a fortnight) ‘is all I got this blessed day since seven o’clock in the morning, and now it’s nine at night.’ I ventured to say something, but a remark, too base for repetition, ‘put the stunners on me,’ and I held my peace.
“I was here surprised, on conversing with my young female companion, to find that she went to church, said her prayers night and morning, and knew many of the collects, some of which she repeated, besides a pleasing variety of Dr. Watts’s hymns. At the death of her mother, her father had given up housekeeping; and, being too fond of a wandering life, had led his only child into habits like his own.
“As the night advanced, the party at the ‘Bug-trap’ more than doubled. High-flyers, shallow-coves, turnpike-sailors, and swells out of luck, made up an assembly of fourscore human beings, more than half of whom were doomed to sleep on a ‘make-shift’—in other words, on a platform, raised just ten inches above the floor of the garret, which it nearly equalled in dimensions. Here were to be huddled together, with very little covering, old men and women, young men and children, with no regard to age, sex, or propensities.
“The ‘mot’ of the ‘ken’ (nickname for ‘matron of the establishment’) had discovered that I was a ‘more bettermost’ sort of person, and hinted that, if I would ‘come down’ with twopence more (threepence was the regular nightly charge), I, ‘and the young gal as I was with,’ might have a little ‘crib’ to ourselves in a little room, along with another woman wot was married and had a ‘kid,’ and whose husband had got a month for ‘griddling in the main drag’ (singing in the high street), and being ‘cheekish’ (saucy) to the beadle.
“Next morning I bade adieu to the ‘Bug-trap,’ and I hope for ever.”
The same informant further stated that he was some time upon “tramp” before he even knew of the existence of a common lodging-house: “After I had ‘matriculated’ at Sheffield,” he says, “I continued some time going to public-houses to sleep, until my apparel having got shabby and my acquintance with misfortune more general, I submitted to be the associate of persons whom I never spoke to out of doors, and whose even slight acquaintance I have long renounced. My first introduction to a London paddin’ ken was in Whitechapel, the place was then called Cat and Wheel-alley (now Commercial-street). On the spot where St. Jude’s church now stands was a double lodging-house, kept by a man named Shirley—one side of it was for single men and women, the other married couples; as these ‘couples’ made frequent exchanges, it is scarcely probable that Mr. Shirley ever ‘asked to see their marriage lines.’ These changes were, indeed, as common as they were disgusting. I knew two brothers (Birmingham nailers) who each brought a young woman out of service from the country. After a while each became dissatisfied with his partner. The mistress of the house (an old procuress from Portsmouth) proposed that they should change their wives. They did so, to the amusement of nine other couples sleeping on the same floor, and some of whom followed the example, and more than once during the night.
“When Cat and Wheel-alley was pulled down, the crew removed to George-yard; the proprietor died, and his wife sold the concern to a wooden-legged Welshman named Hughes (commonly called ‘Taff’). I was there some time. ‘Taff’ was a notorious receiver of stolen goods. I knew two little boys, who brought home six pairs of new Wellington boots, which this miscreant bought at 1s. per pair; and, when they had no luck, he would take the strap off his wooden-leg, and beat them through the nakedness of their rags. He boarded and lodged about a dozen Chelsea and Greenwich pensioners. These he used to follow and watch closely till they got paid; then (after they had settled with him) he would make them drunk, and rob them of the few shillings they had left.