London Labour and the London Poor, Vol. 4

by Henry Mayhew

“Our people were much respected in the neighbourhood. If there were any bickerings among the neighbours, they came to my father to settle them, and anything he said they generally yielded to without a murmur. In the winter time, when work was slack among the poor labouring people, though my father had little himself to give, he got money from others to distribute among those who were the most deserving. I lived very happy and comfortable at home, but always compelled, though against my own inclination, to go twice to service on the Sunday, and twice during the week (Tuesday and Friday). I always seemed to have a rebellious nature against these religious services, and they were a disagreeable task to me, though my father took more pains with me than with my brothers and sister. I always rebelled against this in my heart, though I did not display it openly.

“I was a favourite with my father, perhaps more so than any of the others. For example, if Wombwell’s menagerie would come to Shrewsbury for a short time, he would have taken me instead of my brothers to visit it, and would there speak of the wonders of God and of his handiwork in the creation of animals. Everything that he said and did was tinged with religion, and religion of an ascetic argumentative turn. It was a kind of religion that seemed to banish eternally other sects from happiness and from heaven.

“My mind at this time was injured by the narrow religious prejudices I saw around me. We often had ministers to dinner and supper at our house, and always after their meals the conversation would be sure to turn into discussions on the different points of doctrine. I can recollect as well now as though it were yesterday the texts used on the various sides of the question, and the stress laid on different passages to uphold their arguments. At this time I would be sitting there greedily drinking in every word, and as soon as they were gone I would fly to the Bible and examine the different texts of Scripture they had brought forward, and it seemed to produce a feeling in my mind that any religious opinions could be plausibly supported by it. The arguments on these occasions generally hinged on two main points, predestination and election. My father’s opinions were those of the Wesleyan creed, the salvation of all through the blood of Christ.

“These continual discussions seemed to steel my heart completely against religion. They caused me to be very disobedient and unruly, and led to my falling out with my grandfather, who had a good deal of property that was expected to come to our family. Though I was young, he bitterly resented this. In 1839 he was accidentally drowned, and it was found when his will was opened that I was not mentioned in it. The whole of his property was left to my father, with the exception of four houses, which he had an interest in till my brothers and sister arrived at the age of twenty-one. Again the property that was left to my father for the whole of his life he had no power to will away at his death, as it went to a distant relative of my grandfather’s.

“This was the first cause of my leaving home. It seemed to rankle in my boyish mind that I was a black sheep, something different from my brothers and sister.

“After being several times spoken to by my father about my quarrelsome disposition with my brothers and sister, I threatened, young as I was, to burn the house down the first opportunity I got. This threat, though not uttered in my father’s hearing, came to his ear, and he gave me a severe beating for it, the first time he ever corrected me. This was in the summer of 1840, in the end of May. I determined to leave home, and took nothing away but what belonged to me. I had four sovereigns of pocket money, and the suit of clothes I had on and a shirt. I walked to Shrewsbury and took the coach to London. When I got to London I had neither friend nor acquaintance. I first put up in a coffee-shop in the Mile End Road, and lodged there for seven weeks, till my money was nearly all spent.

“During this time my clothes had been getting shabby and dirty, having no one to look after me. After being there for seven weeks I went to a mean lodging-house at Field Lane, Holborn. There I met with characters I had never seen before, and heard language that I had not formerly heard. This was about July, 1840, and I was about ten years of age the ensuing October. I stopped there about three weeks doing nothing. At the end of that time I was completely destitute.

“The landlady took pity on me as a poor country boy who had been well brought up, and kept me for some days longer after my money was done. During these few days I had very little to eat, except what was given me by some of the lodgers when they got their own meals. I often thought at that time of my home in the country, and of what my father and mother might be doing, as I had never written to them since the day I had first left my home.

“I sometimes was almost tempted to write to them and let them know the position I was in, as I knew they would gladly send me up money to return home, but my stubborn spirit was not broke then. After being totally destitute for two or three days, I was turned out of doors, a little boy in the great world of London, with no friend to assist me, and perfectly ignorant of the ways and means of getting a living in London.

“I was taken by several poor ragged boys to sleep in the dark arches of the Adelphi. I often saw the boys follow the male passengers when the halfpenny boats came to the Adelphi stairs, i.e., the part of the river almost opposite to the Adelphi Theatre. I could not at first make out the meaning of this, but I soon found they generally had one or two handkerchiefs when the passengers left. At this time there was a prison-van in the Adelphi arches, without wheels, which was constructed different from the present prison-van, as it had no boxes in the interior. The boys used to take me with them into the prison-van. There we used to meet a man my companions called ‘Larry.’ I knew him by no other name for the time. He used to give almost what price he liked for the handkerchiefs. If they refused to give them at the price he named, he would threaten them in several ways. He said he would get the other boys to drive them away, and not allow them to get any more handkerchiefs there. If this did not intimidate them, he would threaten to give them in charge, so that at last they were compelled to take whatever price he liked to give them.