A History of the Cries of London Part 27

Dear me, &c.

"Had I a _Garden_, a _Field_ and a _Gate_, I would not care for the Duke of Bedford's estate; That is, I would not care for the Duke of Bedford's estate, If I had _Covent Garden_, _Smithfield_, and _Billingsgate_."

Billingsgate has from time immemorial had much to do with "The Cries of London," and although a rough and unromantic place at the present day, has an ancient legend of its own, that a.s.sociates it with royal names and venerable folk. Geoffrey of Monmouth deposeth that about 400 years before Christ's nativity, Belin, a king of the Britons, built this gate and gave it its name, and that when he was dead the royal body was burnt, and the ashes set over the gate in a vessel of bra.s.s, upon a high pinnacle of stone. The London historian, John Stow, more prosaic, on the other hand, is quite satisfied that one Biling once owned the wharf, and troubles himself no further.

Byllngsgate Dock is mentioned as an important quay in "Brompton's Chronicle" (Edward III.), under the date 976, when King Ethelred, being then at Wantage, in Berkshire, made laws for regulating the customs on ships at Byllngsgate, then the only wharf in London. 1. Small vessels were to pay one halfpenny. 2. Larger ones, with sails, one penny. 3. Keeles, or hulks, still larger, fourpence. 4. Ships laden with wood, one log shall be given for toll. 5. _Boats with fish_, according to size, a halfpenny. 6.

Men of Rouen, who came with wine or peas, and men of Flanders and Liege, were to pay toll before they began to sell, but the Emperor's men (Germans of the Steel Yard) paid an annual toll. 7. Bread was tolled three times a week, cattle were paid for in kind, and b.u.t.ter and cheese were paid more for before Christmas than after.

Hence we gather that at a very early period Billingsgate was not merely a fish-market, but for the sale of general commodities. Paying toll in kind is a curious fiscal regulation; though, doubtless, when barter was the ordinary mode of transacting business, taxes must have been collected in the form of an instalment of the goods brought to market.

Our ancestors four hundred years ago had, in proportion to the population of London, much more abundant and much cheaper fish than we have now.

According to the "n.o.ble Boke off Cookry," a reprint of which, from the rare ma.n.u.script in the Holkham Collection, has just been edited by Mrs.

Alexander Napier, Londoners in the reign of Henry VII. could regale on "baked porpois," "turbert," "pik in braissille," "mortins of ffishe,"

"eles in bruet," "fresh lamprey bak," "breme," in "sauce" and in "bra.s.se,"

"soal in bra.s.se," "sturgion boiled," "haddock in cevy," "codling haddock,"

"congur," "halobut," "gurnard or rocket boiled," "plaice or flounders boiled," "whelks boiled," "perche boiled," "freeke makrell," "bace molet,"

"musculles," in "sh.e.l.les" and in "brothe," "tench in cevy," and "lossenge for ffishe daies." For the rich there were "potages of oysters," "blang mang" and "rape" of "ffishe," to say nothing of "lampry in galantyn" and "lampry bak." Our forefathers ate more varieties of fish, cooked it better, and paid much less for it than we do, with all our railways and steamboats, our Fisheries' Inspectors, our Fisheries Exhibion and new Fish Markets with their liberal rules and regulations. To be sure, those same forefathers of ours not only enacted certain very stringent laws against "forestalling" and "regrating," but were likewise accustomed to enforce them, and to make short work upon occasion of the forestalled and regraters of fish, as of other commodities.

In Donald Lupton's "London and the Covntrey Carbonadoed and Quartred into seuerall Characters. London, Printed by Nicholas Okes, 1632," the nymphs of the locality are thus described:--

FISHERWOMEN:--These crying, wandering, and travelling creatures carry their shops on their heads, and their storehouse is ordinarily Byllyngsgate, or Ye Brydge-foot; and their habitation Turnagain Lane.

They set up every morning their trade afresh. They are easily furnished; get something and spend it jovially and merrily. Five shillings, a basket, and a good cry, are a large stock for them. They are the merriest when all their ware is gone. In the morning they delight to have their shop full; at evening they desire to have it empty. Their shop is but little, some two yards compa.s.s, yet it holds all sort of fish, or herbs, or roots, and such like ware. Nay, it is not dest.i.tute often of nuts, oranges, and lemons. They are free in all places, and pay nothing for rent, but only find repairs to it. If they drink their whole stock, it is but p.a.w.ning a petticoate in Long Lane, or themselves in Turnbull Street, to set up again. They change daily; for she that was for fish this day, may be to-morrow for fruit, next day for herbs, another for roots; so that you must hear them cry before you know what they are furnished withal. When they have done their Fair, they meet in mirth, singing, dancing, and end not till either their money, or wit, or credit be clean spent out. Well, when on any evening they are not merry in a drinking house, it is thought they have had bad return, or else have paid some old score, or else they are bankrupt: they are creatures soon up and soon down.

The above quaint account of the ancient Billingsgate ladies answers exactly to the costermonger's wives of the present day, who are just as careless and improvident; they are merry over their rope of onions, and laugh over a basketful of stale sprats. In their dealings and disputes they are as noisy as ever, and rather apt to put decency and good manners to the blush. Billingsgate eloquence has long been proverbial for coa.r.s.e language, so that low abuse is often termed, "_That's talking Billingsgate!_" or, that, "_You are no better than a Billingsgate fish-f.a.g_"--_i.e._, You are as rude and ill-mannered as the women of Billingsgate fish-market (Saxon, _bellan_, "to bawl," and _gate_, "quay,"

meaning the noisy quay). The French say "Maubert," instead of Billingsgate, as "_Your compliments are like those of the Place Maubert_"--_i.e._, No compliments at all, but vulgar dirt-flinging. The "Place Maubert," has long been noted for its market.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE CRIER OF POOR JOHN.

"It is well thou art not a fish, for then thou would'st have been _Poor John_"--_Romeo and Juliet_.]

The introduction of steamboats has much altered the aspect of Billingsgate. Formerly, pa.s.sengers embarked here for Gravesend and other places down the river, and a great many sailors mingled with the salesmen and fishermen. The boats sailed only when the tide served, and the necessity of being ready at the strangest hours rendered many taverns necessary for the accommodation of travellers. The market formerly opened two hours earlier than at present, and the result was demoralising and exhausting. Drink led to ribald language and fighting, but the refreshment now taken is chiefly tea or coffee, and the general language and behaviour has improved. The fish-f.a.gs of Ned Ward's time have disappeared, and the business is done smarter and quicker. As late as 1842 coaches would sometimes arrive at Billingsgate from Dover or Brighton, and so affect the market. The old circle from which dealers in their carts attended the market, included Windsor, St. Alban's, Hertford, Romford, and other places within twenty-five miles. Railways have now enlarged the area of purchasers to an indefinite degree.

To see this market in its busiest time, says Mr. Mayhew, "the visitor should be there about seven o'clock on a Friday morning." The market opens at four, but for the first two or three hours it is attended solely by the regular fishmongers and "b.u.mmarees," who have the pick of the best there.

As soon as these are gone the costermonger's sale begins. Many of the costers that usually deal in vegetables buy a little fish on the Friday.

It is the fast day of the Irish, and the mechanics' wives run short of money at the end of the week, and so make up their dinners with fish: for this reason the attendance of costers' barrows at Billingsgate on a Friday morning is always very great. As soon as you reach the Monument you see a line of them, with one or two tall fishmongers' carts breaking the uniformity, and the din of the cries and commotion of the distant market begin to break on the ear like the buzzing of a hornet's nest. The whole neighbourhood is covered with hand-barrows, some laden with baskets, others with sacks. The air is filled with a kind of sea-weedy odour, reminding one of the sea-sh.o.r.e; and on entering the market, the smell of whelks, red herrings, sprats, and a hundred other sorts of fish, is almost overpowering. The wooden barn looking square[14] where the fish is sold is, soon after six o'clock, crowded with shiny cord jackets and greasy caps. Everybody comes to Billingsgate in his worst clothes; and no one knows the length of time a coat can be worn until they have been to a fish sale. Through the bright opening at the end are seen the tangled rigging of the oyster boats, and the red-worsted caps of the sailors. Over the hum of voices is heard the shouts of the salesmen, who, with their white ap.r.o.ns, peering above the heads of the mob, stand on their tables roaring out their prices. All are bawling together--salesmen and hucksters of provisions, capes, hardware, and newspapers--till the place is a perfect Babel of compet.i.tion.

"Ha-a-andsome cod! best in the market! All alive! alive! alive, oh!"--"Ye-o-o! ye-o-o! Here's your fine Yarmouth bloaters! Who's the buyer?"--"Here you are, governor; splendid whiting! some of the right sort!"--"Turbot! turbot! All alive, turbot."--"Gla.s.s of nice peppermint, this cold morning? Halfpenny a gla.s.s!"--"Here you are, at your own price! Fine soles, oh!"--"Oy! oy! oy! Now's your time! Fine grizzling sprats! all large, and no small!"--"Hullo! hullo, here!

Beautiful lobsters! good and cheap. Fine c.o.c.k crabs, all alive, oh!"--"Five brill and one turbot--have that lot for a pound! Come and look at 'em, governor; you won't see a better lot in the market!"--"Here! this way; this way, for splendid skate! Skate, oh!

skate, oh!"--"Had-had-had-had-haddock! All fresh and good!"--"Currant and meat puddings! a ha'penny each!"--"Now, you mussel-buyers, come along! come along! come along! Now's your time for fine fat mussels!"--"Here's food for the belly, and clothes for the back; but I sell food for the mind!" shouts the newsvendor.--"Here's smelt, oh!"--"Here ye are, fine Finney hadd.i.c.k!"--"Hot soup! nice pea-soup!

a-all hot! hot!"--"Ahoy! ahoy, here! Live plaice! all alive, oh!"--"Now or never! Whelk! whelk! whelk!" "Who'll buy brill, oh!

brill, oh?"--"Capes! waterproof capes! Sure to keep the wet out! A shilling apiece!"--"Eels, oh! eels, oh! Alive, oh! alive oh!"--"Fine flounders, a shilling a lot! Who'll have this prime lot of flounders?"--"Shrimps! shrimps! fine shrimps!"--"Wink! wink!

wink!"--"Hi! hi-i! here you are; just eight eels left--only eight!"--"O ho! O ho! this way--this way--this way! Fish alive! alive!

alive, oh."

BILLINGSGATE; OR, THE SCHOOL OF RHETORIC.

Near London Bridge once stood a gate, Belinus gave it name, Whence the green Nereids oysters bring, A place of public fame.

Here eloquence has fixed her seat, The nymphs here learn by heart In mode and figure still to speak, By modern rules of art.

To each fair oratress this school Its rhetoric strong affords; They double and redouble tropes, With finger, fish, and words.

Both nerve and strength and flow of speech, With beauties ever new, Adorn the language of these nymphs, Who give it all their due.

O, happy seat of happy nymphs!

For many ages known, To thee each rostrum's forc'd to yield-- Each forum in the town.

Let other academies boast What t.i.tles else they please; Thou shalt be call'd "the gate of tongues,"

Of tongues that never cease.

The sale of hot green peas in the streets of London is of great antiquity, that is to say, if the cry of "_Hot peascods! one began to cry_," recorded by Lydgate in his _London Lackpenny_, may be taken as having intimated the sale of the same article under the modern cry of "_Hot green peas! all hot, all hot! Here's your peas, hot, hot, hot!_" In many parts of the country it is, or was, customary to have a "_scalding of peas_," as a sort of rustic festivity, at which green peas scalded or slightly boiled with their pods on are the main dish. Being set on the table in the midst of the party, each person dips his peapod in a common cup of melted b.u.t.ter, seasoned with salt and pepper, and extracts the peas by the agency of his teeth. At times one bean, sh.e.l.l and all is put into the steaming ma.s.s, whoever gets this bean is to be first married.

The sellers of green peas "hot, all hot!" have no stands but carry them in a tin pot or pan which is wrapped round with a thick cloth, to retain the heat. The peas are served out with a ladle, and eaten by the customers out of basins provided with spoons by the vendor. Salt and pepper are supplied _at discretion_, but the _fresh!_ b.u.t.ter to grease 'em (_avec votre permission_.)

The hot green peas are sold out in halfpennyworths and pennyworths, some vendors, in addition to the usual seasoning supplied, add _a suck of bacon_. The "suck of bacon" is obtained by the street Arabs from a piece of that article, securely fastened by a string, to obtain a "relish" for the peas, or as is usually said "to flavour 'em;" sometimes these young gamins manage to bite the string and then _bolt_ not only the bacon, but away from the vendors. The popular saying "a plate of veal cut with a _hammy_ knife" is but a refined rendering of the pea and suck-'o-bacon, street luxury trick.

Pea soup is also sold in the streets of London, but not to the extent it was twenty years ago, when the chilled labourer and others having only a halfpenny to spend would indulge in a basin of--"_All hot!_"

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE FLOWER-POT MAN.

Here comes the old mail with his flowers to sell, Along the streets merrily going; Full many a year I've remember'd him well, With, "Flowers, a-growing, a-blowing."

Geraniums in dresses of scarlet and green; Thick aloes, that blossom so rarely; The long creeping cereus with p.r.i.c.kles so keen, Or primroses modest and early.

The myrtle dark green, and the jessamine pale, Sweet scented and gracefully flowing, This flower-man carries and offers for sale, "All flourishing, growing, and blowing."]

With the coming in of spring there is a large sale of Palm; on the Sat.u.r.day preceding and on Palm Sunday; also of May, the fragrant flower of the hawthorn, and lilac in flower. But perhaps the pleasantest of all cries in early spring is that of "_Flowers--All a-growing--all a-blowing_," heard for the first time in the season. Their beauty and fragrance gladden the senses; and the first and unexpected sight of them may prompt hopes of the coming year, such as seem proper to the spring.

"Come, gentle spring! ethereal mildness! come."

The sale of English and Foreign nuts in London is enormous, the annual export from Tarragona alone is estimated at 10,000 tons. Of the various kinds, we may mention the "Spanish," the "Barcelona," the "Brazil," the "c.o.ker-nut," the "Chesnut," and "Though last, not least, in love"--The "Walnut!"

"As jealous as Ford, that search'd a hollow wall-nut for his wife's lemon."--_Merry Wives of Windsor._

The walnut-tree has long existed in England, and it is estimated that upwards of 50,000 bushels of walnuts are disposed of in the wholesale markets of the London district annually. Who is not pleased to hear every Autumn the familiar cry of:--

"Crack 'em and try 'em, before you buy 'em, Eight a-penny--All new walnuts Crack 'em and try 'em, before you buy 'em, A shilling a-hundred--All new-walnuts.

The history of the happy and social walnut involves some curious misconceptions. Take its name to begin with. Why walnut? What has this splendid, wide-spreading tree to do with walls, except such as are used as stepping-stones for the boys to climb up into the branches and steal the fruit? Nothing whatever! for, if we are to believe the learned in such matters, this fine old English tree, as it is sometimes called, is not an English tree at all, but a distinct and emphatic foreigner, and hence the derivation. The walnut is a native of Persia, and has been so named to distinguish the naturalised European from its companions, the hazel, the filbert, and the chesnut. In "the authorities" we are told that "gual" or "wall" means "strange" or "exotic," the same root being found in Welsh and kindred tongues; hence walnut. It is true, at any rate, that in France they retain the distinctive name "Noix Persique." There is another mistaken theory connected with the tree which bears a fruit so dear to society at large, for someone has been hazardous enough to a.s.sert that:--

"A woman, a spaniel, and a walnut tree, The more you beat them the better they be."

And this ribald rhyme--which is of Latin origin, is now an established English proverb, or proverbial phrase, but variously construed. See Nash's "_Have with you to Saffron-Walden; or, Gabriel Harvey's Hunt is up_,"

1596.--Reprinted by J. P. Collier, 1870. Moor, in his "_Suffolk Words_,"

pp. 465, furnishes another version, which is rather an epigram than a proverb:--

"Three things by beating better prove; A Nut, an a.s.s, a Woman; The cudgel from their back remove, And they'll be good for no man."

"Nux, asinus, mulier simili sunt lege ligata.