Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1885-08-31
LIFE IN PETTICOAT LANE.
A vxsIT TO THE HAUNTs OF LON
% On CRIMINAL CEAGSES
"PeiticOnt Ehner ana the People
Found Thsro-One Man THE -
AItNnls " Otcctcd from Harm.


Dispatch, Is that long, narrow lane. with
its neighborhood, known to the initiated
as "Petticoat" lane-to the uniniated as
Middlcsex street.
The dangerous classes of London and
Paris differ In one most essential respect
from the same kind Of people in Ameri-
ca. Probably the very worst slums Of
New York contain no creatures whose
criminal genealogy dates back beyond
one or two generations.
London, on the contrary, was great
city prior to the discovery of America.
Its slums reckon their age by centuries,
while the inhabitan are the result of
long generations of depravity. and could,
were it fashionable in those localities to
keep a family tree, trace their descent in
crime back from father to son for many
generations. Petticoat lane has one fea-
ture peculiar to itself. That is the great
Sunday market from which Rag Fair
takes its name. On week days the
neighborhood is nearly deserted, ut
night almost equally so. The Grim
inal tendencies OF Petticoat lane are
not of noisy or demonstrative sort.
This is the great criminal manufactory
OF the world. Here the most dangerous
thieves, housebreakers, and murderers
graduate and serve their apprenticeship,
live, and die. Many of them are utterly
unknown to the police save oy name and
the effects of their life work. Scores Of
them have never been seen by mortal eye
other than their "pals." Here the Fagins
of London society ply their trade.
In all appearances Middlesex street is
one of the quietest streets in London.
Occasionally, however, knot of villain
ous-looking men will gather in some cor
ner of the street, talking in low tones,
and in a language az unintelligible, to
ordinary mortals as Sanscrit At night
the whole neighborhood is dark, silent,
and deserted. Now and then the sound
of scutfle is heard in one of which the
dark, blind alleys, leading nowhere, with
which the neighborhood a5ounds. Ere
the police can reach the spot all is again
silent, though frequently the blood
stained sidewalk is silent witness to
what has happened. But few lights ap-
pear in the windows, and no suspicious
character is ever seen issuing from the
doors.
Into the houses which line each side
of Middlcsex street, and fill the courts
and alleys within the arms of that great
cross, no one save the inhabitants or the
police in trios and quartettes have
er set foot. Yet, stay, there is
one person who is always well
come, and whom the vilest and
most murderous ruffian would protect
with his life, and that is the doctor The
inhabitants of London slums have learned
that in the epidemics which now and
again-almost every year, in fact-rage
with the fury of the plaques of old among
the denizens of those filthy and over
crowded houses, doctor is a necessity.
When wounded and bleeding, as the re-
suit of some unholy midnight raid, the
modern Bill Sykes flies, like a wounded
stag, to his covert, death will surely en-
sue unless doctor can be persuaded to
take the case in hand. 1t is a religion
with London heathens-the only one
they know, save the honor that exists
among thieves-to protect the doctor.
Protected by two policemen in uni
form and detective in plain clothes,
the writer of this article once made a
pilgrimage through all that was visible
of five of these houses. They were not
the worst, for into those nothing short Of
force could gain admission, but they
were very bad. In two of them the police
showed a large trap in the floor. 1t was
so built as to be quite invisible At the
touch of spring in the wall some dis
tance off the slab flew downward, dis
closing well, whose depth we had no
means of Ascertaining. A stone de-
scended in silence for many seconds, and
then came loud splash The tiendish
contrivauce is for the benefit of spies. A
person entering house whom the inhab-
itants suspect, or wish to be rid Of, is
enticed on the invisible slab.
But Middesex street on week day, and
the same thoroughfare on Sunday, pos
sesses stronger points of difference than
Broadway, New York, when procession
is passing, and when it is not. For
many months, though as we'll acquainted
with the neighborhood as is safe for u
resident to be in its week day dress,
the writer was not aware that this great
fair was held in those parts. At last
did hear of it, and the following Sab
bath beheld me divcsted of the garments
of respectability and arrayed, pro tenn, in
those as nearly resembling disrespecta-
bility as l could fashion in clean mate
rials.
There was no need of a police escort
this time. "There is safety in numbers, :"
says an old trusm, beside which, on
Sunday morning, picked constables, the
flower of the force, are distributed
through the fair at intervals of fifty yards.
/ arrived at my destination at s 70 A. NJ,
and found pandemonium in full swing.
Up the narrow roadway are placed stalls
three deep, OH which are to be found
every kind of salable article from meat
to mouse traps. Petticoat lane is devoted
to general merchandise, and the cross
streets to second hand clothing exclu-
sively. The stolen goods of the week
from all quarters appear in tempting ar
ray. Every species of merchandise,
food. clothing, books and live stock,
every style of clothing, from a priests
surplice to seedy frock coat, from a
duchess toilet to child's pinafore, may
be seen on these stalls.
And the crowd the molly cosmopoli-
tan crowd who throng and surge on
the narrow footpath, forming a solid,
moving mass of humanity. Human rats
who vegetate underground for six days
of every week emerge on the seventh
for one single hour like moles in wet
weather, with coin in their skinny
hands, to purchase the necessities Of
life.
At 12 o'clock sharp all Sunday fairs
close by act of parliament. AS the mel
odious bells from various churches chime
the hour of noon there is general stam-