The Worst Street in London: Foreword by Peter Ackroyd by Fiona Rule Page B
Authors: Fiona Rule
Ads: Link
running of common lodging houses, with a view to improving the situation. However, although their advice was acted upon, in the long run it was to have little effect on the terrible evolution of the Spitalfields lodging houses.
Although the common lodging houses were dreadful places for their inhabitants, the owners of these establishments were able to carve out very lucrative careers for themselves. Many of the lodging house keepers at this time were long-term residents of Spitalfields who were fortunate enough to have the resources to buy up suitable property and convert it quickly and cheaply. One such man was John Smith. Smith, who was a greengrocer by trade, was initially attracted to the area by the market, and by the early 1800s, had set up retail premises in Spitalfields with his wife Elinor. As the area declined, Smith noticed the demand for cheap lodgings and gradually acquired property, converting it to house the poor. The business proved to be extremely successful and Smith expanded his property portfolio whenever he could. He concentrated his efforts in and around Brick Lane, an old road that had originally led to fields in which the clay for bricks was dug.
By the 1860s, John Smith’s main business had evolved from greengrocer to lodging house keeper. By this time he and Elinor had seven children, three of whom would go on to continue the business of keeping common lodging houses into the next century. Indeed, his eldest son James (known locally as Jimmy) and daughter Elizabeth would go on to become two of the most influential people on the streets of Spitalfields at the time of Jack the Ripper.
Chapter 9
The Third Wave of Immigrants
(The Irish Famine)
While the Royal Commissioners were busy inspecting the common lodging houses, the overcrowding problem in Spitalfields was about to get worse. Almost as soon as Dorset Street and its surrounds had adjusted to the resettlement of ex-rookery residents, it faced yet another influx of people to the area. This time, the cause was not road building, but a fungus named Phytophthora Infestans.
Early in 1845, an American ship docked in Ireland with a deadly cargo. Some of the produce on board carried the Phytophthora fungus, which was capable of causing devastation to potato crops. At the time, potatoes were big business in Ireland. Almost half the population relied on potatoes to keep from starvation and consumed them in large quantities. Irish potato crops were mainly comprised of two, high-yielding varieties, both of which were affected by the fungus with frightening speed. An unusually cool and wet summer allowed the fungus to thrive and that year’s potato crop was almost a complete failure across the country.
At first, the Irish people did their best to remain optimistic about the future. On 2 September, the Cork Examiner reported that in at least one other year (1765), the potato crop had been ruined and noted that communities had recovered from that crisis: ‘We have no apprehension that the potato is gone from us. There will be some to make another venture apon it next year and probably, in 1848 there will be such a crop as has not been witnessed within the time of the oldest man living.’ That said, the underlying emotion was that of utter dread and two days later, the Examiner reported that, ‘all is alarm and apprehension. The landlord trembles for the consequences; so does the middleman; so does the tenant farmer.’
Believing the situation to be temporary, many landlords did their best to improve conditions for their tenants. For example, in September 1846, a group of landlords from Fermanagh vowed to employ as many impoverished farm workers as they possibly could to work on their property. They also sought to establish a depot in Enniskillen that would distribute ‘Indian Meal’ (ground corn) to the starving. Similar plans were laid throughout the country. However, the populace found the Indian Meal unpalatable to the point of being
Although the common lodging houses were dreadful places for their inhabitants, the owners of these establishments were able to carve out very lucrative careers for themselves. Many of the lodging house keepers at this time were long-term residents of Spitalfields who were fortunate enough to have the resources to buy up suitable property and convert it quickly and cheaply. One such man was John Smith. Smith, who was a greengrocer by trade, was initially attracted to the area by the market, and by the early 1800s, had set up retail premises in Spitalfields with his wife Elinor. As the area declined, Smith noticed the demand for cheap lodgings and gradually acquired property, converting it to house the poor. The business proved to be extremely successful and Smith expanded his property portfolio whenever he could. He concentrated his efforts in and around Brick Lane, an old road that had originally led to fields in which the clay for bricks was dug.
By the 1860s, John Smith’s main business had evolved from greengrocer to lodging house keeper. By this time he and Elinor had seven children, three of whom would go on to continue the business of keeping common lodging houses into the next century. Indeed, his eldest son James (known locally as Jimmy) and daughter Elizabeth would go on to become two of the most influential people on the streets of Spitalfields at the time of Jack the Ripper.
Chapter 9
The Third Wave of Immigrants
(The Irish Famine)
While the Royal Commissioners were busy inspecting the common lodging houses, the overcrowding problem in Spitalfields was about to get worse. Almost as soon as Dorset Street and its surrounds had adjusted to the resettlement of ex-rookery residents, it faced yet another influx of people to the area. This time, the cause was not road building, but a fungus named Phytophthora Infestans.
Early in 1845, an American ship docked in Ireland with a deadly cargo. Some of the produce on board carried the Phytophthora fungus, which was capable of causing devastation to potato crops. At the time, potatoes were big business in Ireland. Almost half the population relied on potatoes to keep from starvation and consumed them in large quantities. Irish potato crops were mainly comprised of two, high-yielding varieties, both of which were affected by the fungus with frightening speed. An unusually cool and wet summer allowed the fungus to thrive and that year’s potato crop was almost a complete failure across the country.
At first, the Irish people did their best to remain optimistic about the future. On 2 September, the Cork Examiner reported that in at least one other year (1765), the potato crop had been ruined and noted that communities had recovered from that crisis: ‘We have no apprehension that the potato is gone from us. There will be some to make another venture apon it next year and probably, in 1848 there will be such a crop as has not been witnessed within the time of the oldest man living.’ That said, the underlying emotion was that of utter dread and two days later, the Examiner reported that, ‘all is alarm and apprehension. The landlord trembles for the consequences; so does the middleman; so does the tenant farmer.’
Believing the situation to be temporary, many landlords did their best to improve conditions for their tenants. For example, in September 1846, a group of landlords from Fermanagh vowed to employ as many impoverished farm workers as they possibly could to work on their property. They also sought to establish a depot in Enniskillen that would distribute ‘Indian Meal’ (ground corn) to the starving. Similar plans were laid throughout the country. However, the populace found the Indian Meal unpalatable to the point of being
Similar Books
