Among the present cabdrivers are to be found, as I learned from trustworthy persons, quondam greengrocers, costermongers, jewellers, clerks, broken-down gentlemen, especially turf gentlemen, carpenters, joiners, saddlers, coach-builders, grooms, stable-helpers, footmen, shopkeepers, pickpockets, swell-mobsmen, housebreakers, innkeepers, musicians, musical-instrument makers, ostlers, some good scholars, a good number of broken-down pawnbrokers, several ex-policemen, draper’s assistants, barmen, scene-shifters, one baronet, and as my informant expressed it, “such an uncommon sight of folks that it would be uncommon hard to say what they was.” Of the truthfulness of the list of callings said to have contributed to swell the numbers of the cabmen there can be no doubt, but I am not so sure of “the baronet.” I was told his name, but I met with no one who could positively say that he knew Sir V—— C—— as a cab-driver. This baronet seems a tradition among them. Others tell me that the party alluded to is merely nicknamed the Baron, owing to his being a person of good birth, and having had a college education. The “flashiest” cabman, as he is termed, is the son of a fashionable master-tailor. He is known among cabdrivers as the “Numpareil,” and drives one of the Hansom cabs. I am informed on excellent authority, a tenth, or, to speak beyond the possibility of cavil, a twelfth of the whole number of cabdrivers are “fancy men.” These fellows are known in the cab trade by a very gross appellation. They are the men who live with women of the town, and are supported, wholly or partially, on the wages of the women’s prostitution.

These are the fellows who, for the most part, are ready to pay the highest price for the hire of their cabs. One swell-mobsman, I was told, had risen from “signing” for cabs to become a cab proprietor, but was now a prisoner in France for picking pockets.

The worse class of cabmen which, as I have before said, are but a twelfth of the whole, live in Granby Street, St. Andrew’s Place, and similar localities of the Waterloo Road; in Union Street, Pearl Row, &c., of the Borough Road; in Princes Street, and others, of the London Road; in some unpaved streets that stretch from the New Kent Road to Lock’s Fields; in the worst parts of Westminster, in the vicinity of Drury Lane, Whitechapel, and of Lisson Grove, and wherever low depravity flourishes. “To get on a cab,” I was told, and that is the regular phrase, “is the ambition of more loose fellows than for anything else, as it’s reckoned both an idle life and an exciting one.” Whetstone Park is full of cabmen, but not wholly of the fancy-man class. The better sort of cabmen usually reside in the neighbourhood of the cab-proprietors’ yards, which are in all directions. Some of the best of these men are, or rather have been mechanics, and have left a sedentary employment, which affected their health, for the open air of the cab business. Others of the best description have been connected with country inns, but the majority of them are London men. They are most of them married, and bringing up families decently on earnings of from 15s. to 25s. a-week. Some few of their wives work with their needles for the tailors.

Some of the cab-yards are situated in what were old inn-yards, or the stable-yards attached to great houses, when great houses flourished in parts of the town that are now accounted vulgar. One of those I saw in a very curious place. I was informed that the yard was once Oliver Cromwell’s stable-yard; it is now a receptacle for cabs. There are now two long ranges of wooden erections, black with age, each carriage-house opening with large folding-doors, fastened in front with padlocks, bolts, and hasps. In the old carriage-houses are the modern cabs, and mixed with them are superannuated cabs, and the disjointed or worn-out bodies and wheels of cabs. Above one range of the buildings, the red-tiled roofs of which project a yard and more beyond the exterior, are apartments occupied by the stable-keepers and others. Nasturtiums with their light green leaves and bright orange flowers were trained along light trellis-work in front of the windows, and presented a striking contrast to the dinginess around.

Of the cabdrivers there are several classes, according to the times at which they are employed. These are known in the trade by the names of the “long-day men,” “the morning-men,” the “long-night men,” and the “short-night men,” and “the bucks.” The long-day man is the driver who is supposed to be driving his cab the whole day. He usually fetches his cab out between 9 and 10 in the morning, and returns at 4 or 5, or even 7 or 8, the next morning; indeed it is no matter at what hour he comes in so long as he brings the money that he signs for; the long-day men are mostly employed for the contractors, though some of the respectable masters work their cabs with long-day men, but then they leave the yard between 8 and 9 and are expected to return between 12 and 1. These drivers when working for the contractors sign for 16s. a-day in the season, as before stated, and 12s. out of the season; and when employed by the respectable masters, they are expected to bring home 14s. or 9s., according to the season of the year. The long-day men are the parties who mostly employ the “bucks,” or unlicensed drivers. They are mostly out with their cabs from 16 to 20 hours, so that their work becomes more than they can constantly endure, and they are consequently glad to avail themselves of the services of a buck for some hours at the end of the day, or rather night. The morning man generally goes out about 7 in the morning and returns to the yard at 6 in the evening. Those who contract sign to bring home from 10s. to 11s. per day in the season, and 7s. for the rest of the year, while those working for the better class of masters are expected to give the proprietor 8s. a-day, and 5s. or 6s. according to the time of the year. The morning man has only one horse found him, whereas the long-day man has two, and returns to the yard to change horses between three and six in the afternoon. The long-night man goes out at 6 in the evening and returns at 10 in the morning. He signs when working for contractors for 7s. or 8s. per night, at the best time of the year, and 5s. or 6s. at the bad. The rent required by the good masters differs scarcely from these sums. He has only one horse found him. The short-night man fetches his cab out at 6 in the evening and returns at 6 in the morning, bringing with him 6s. in the season and 4s. or 5s. out of it. The contractors employ scarcely any short-night men, while the better masters have but few long-day or long-night men working for them. It is only such persons as the Westminster masters who like the horses or the men to be out so many hours together, and they, as my informant said, “don’t care what becomes of either, so long as the day’s money is brought to them.” The bucks are unlicensed cabdrivers, who are employed by those who have a license to take charge of the cab while the regular drivers are at their meals or enjoying themselves. These bucks are generally cabmen who have been deprived of their license through bad conduct, and who now pick up a living by “rubbing up” (that is, polishing the brass of the cabs) on the rank, and “giving out buck” as it is called amongst the men. They usually loiter about the watering-houses (the public-houses) of the cab-stands, and pass most of their time in the tap-rooms. They are mostly of intemperate habits, being generally “confirmed sots.” Very few of them are married men. They have been fancy-men in their prime, but, to use the words of one of the craft, “got turned up.” They seldom sleep in a bed. Some few have a bedroom in some obscure part of the town, but the most of them loll about and doze in the tap-rooms by day, and sleep in the cabs by night. When the watering-houses close they resort to the night coffee-shops, and pass the time there till they are wanted as bucks. When they take a job for a man they have no regular agreement with the driver, but the rule is that they shall do the best they can. If they take 2s. they give the driver one and keep the other for themselves. If 1s. 6d. they usually keep only 6d. The Westminster men have generally got their regular bucks, and these mostly take to the cab with the second horse and do all the night-work. At three or four in the morning they meet the driver at some appointed stand or watering-place. Burleigh Street in the Strand, or Palace Yard, are the favourite places of rendezvous of the Westminster men, and then they hand over to the long-day man “the stuff” as they call it. The regular driver has no check upon these men, but unless they do well they never employ them again. For “rubbing up” the cabs on the stand these bucks generally get 6d. in the season, and for this they are expected to dish-clout the whole of the panels, clean the glasses, and polish the harness and brasses, the cabdriver having to do these things himself or having to pay for it. Some of the bucks in the season will make from 2s. to 2s. 6d. a-day by rubbing up alone, and it is difficult to say what they make by driving. They are the most extortionate of all cab-drivers. For a shilling fare they will generally demand 2s. and for a 3s. fare they will get 5s. or 6s., according to the character of the party driven. Having no licenses, they do not care what they charge. If the number of the cab is taken, and the regular driver of it summoned, the party overcharged is unable to swear that the regular driver was the individual who defrauded him, and so the case is dismissed. It is supposed that the bucks make quite as much money as the drivers, for they are not at all particular as to how they get their money. The great majority, indeed 99 out of 100, have been in prison, and many more than once, and they consequently do not care about revisiting gaol. It is calculated that there are at least 800 or 1000 bucks, hanging about the London cab-stands, and these are mostly regular thieves. If they catch any person asleep or drunk in a cab, they are sure to have a dive into his pockets; nor are they particular if the party belong to their own class, for I am assured that they steal from one another while dozing in the cabs or tap-rooms. Very few of the respectable masters work their cabs at night, except those who do so merely because they have not stable-room for the whole of their horses and vehicles at the same time. Some of the cabdrivers are the owners of the vehicles they drive. It is supposed that out of the 5000 drivers in London, at least 2000, or very nearly half, are small masters, and they are amongst the most respectable men of the ranks. Of the other half of the cabdrivers about 1500 are long-day men, and about 150 long-night men (there are only a few yards, and they are principally at Islington, that employ long-night men). Of the morning-men and the short-night men there are, as near as I can learn, about 500 belonging to each class, in addition to the small masters.

The Watermen.

The Waterman is an important officer at the cab-stand. He is indeed the master of the rank. At some of the larger stands, such as that at the London and Birmingham Railway terminus, there are four watermen, two being always on duty day and night, fifteen hours by day and nine by night, the day-waterman becoming the night-waterman the following week. On the smaller stands two men do this work, changing their day and night labour in the same way. The waterman must see that there is no “fouling” in the rank, that there is no straggling or crowding, but that each cab maintains its proper place. He is also bound to keep the best order he can among the cabmen, and to restrain any ill-usage of the horses. The waterman’s remuneration consists in the receipt of 1d. from every cabman who joins his rank, for which the cabman is supplied with water for his horse, and ½d. for every cabman who is hired off the rank. There are now 350 odd watermen, and they must be known as trusty men, a rigid inquiry being instituted, and unexceptional references demanded before an appointment to the office takes place. At some stands the supply of water costs these officers 4l. a-year, at others the trustees of the waterworks, or the parishes, supply it gratuitously. All the watermen, I am informed, on good authority, have been connected with the working part of it. They must all be able to read and write, for as one of them said to me, “We’re expected to understand Acts of Parliament.” They are generally strong, big-boned, red-faced men, civil and honest, married (with very few exceptions), and bringing up families. They are great readers of newspapers, and in these they devote themselves first of all to the police reports.

One of the body said, “I have been a good many years a waterman, but was brought up a coachbuilder in a London firm. I then got into the cab-trade, and am now a waterman. I make my 24s. a-week the year through: but there’s stands to my knowledge where the waterman doesn’t make more than half as much; and that for a man that’s expected to be respectable. He can give his children a good schooling—can’t he, sir?—on 12s. a-week, and the best of keep, to be sure. Why, my comings-in—it’s a hard fight for me to do as much. I have eight children, sir. I pay 16l. a year for three tidy rooms in a mews—that’s rather more than 6s. a-week; but I have the carriage place below, and that brings me in a little. Six of my children don’t earn a halfpenny now. My eldest daughter, she’s 17, earns 6d. a-day from a slop-tailor. I hate to see her work, work, work away, poor lass! but it’s a help, and it gets them bits of clothes. Another boy earns 6d. a-day from a coach-builder, and lives with me. Another daughter would try her hand at shirtmaking, and got work from a shirtmaker near Tabernacle Square; and in four days and a half she made five bodies, and they came to 1s. 10½d.; and out of that she had to pay 7½d. for her thread and that, and so there was 1s. 3d. for her hard work; but they gave satisfaction, her employer said, as if that was a grand comfort to her mother and me. But I soon put a stop to that. I said, ‘Come, come, I’ll keep you at home, and manage somehow or anyhow, rather than you shall pull your eyes out of your head for 3½d. a-day, and less; so it’s no more shirts.’ Why, sir, the last time bread was dear—1847, was it?—I paid 19s. and 20s. a-week for bread: it’s now about half what it was then; rather more, though. But there’s one thing’s a grand thing for poor men, and that’s such prime and such cheap fish. The railways have done that. In Tottenham-court-road my wife can buy good soles, as many pairs for 6d. of a night, as would have been 3s. 6d. before railways. That’s a great luxury for a poor man like me, that’s fonder of fish than meat. They are a queer set we have to do with in the ranks. The ‘pounceys,’ (the class I have alluded to as fancy-men, called ‘pounceys’ by my present informant), are far the worst. They sometimes try to bilk me, and it’s always hard to get your dues from contractors. That’s the men what sign for heavy figures. Credit them once, and you’re never paid—never. None signs for so much as the pounceys. They’d sign for 18s. Why, if a pouncey’s girl, or a girl he knows, seems in luck, as they call it—that is, if she picks up a gentleman, partickler if he’s drunk, the pouncey—I’ve seen it many a time—jumps out of the ranks, for he keeps a look-out for the spoil, and he drives to her. It’s the pounceys, too, that mostly go gagging where the girls walk. It’s such a set we have to deal with. Only yesterday an out-and-out pouncey called me such names about nothing. Why, it’s shocking for any female that may be passing. Aye, and of a busy night in the Market (Haymarket), when it’s an opera-night and a play-night, the gentlemen’s coachmen’s as bad for bad language as the cabmen; and some gentlemen’s very clever at that sort of language, too. It’s not as it was in Lord ——’s days. Swells now think as much of one shilling as they did of twenty then. But there’s some swells left still. One young swell brings four quarts of gin out of a public-house in a pail, and the cabmen must drink it out of pint pots. He’s quite master of bad language if they don’t drink fairly. Another swell gets a gallon of gin always from Carter’s, and cabmen must drink it out of quart pots—no other way. It makes some of them mad drunk, and makes them drive like mad; for they might be half drunk to begin with. Thank God, no man can say he’s seen me incapable from liquor for four-and-twenty years. There’s no racketier place in the world than the Market. Houses open all night, and people going there after Vauxhall and them places. After a masquerade at Vauxhall I’ve seen cabmen drinking with lords and gentlemen—but such lords get fewer every day; and cockney tars that was handy with their fists wanting to fight Highlanders that wasn’t; and the girls in all sorts of dresses here and there and everywhere among them, the paint off and their dresses torn. Sometimes cabmen assaults us. My mates have been twice whipped lately. I haven’t, because I know how to humour their liquor. I give them fair play; and more than that, perhaps, as I get my living out of them. Any customer can pick his own cab; but if I’m told to call one, or none’s picked, the first on the rank, that’s the rule, gets the fare. I take my meals at a coffee-shop; and my mate takes a turn for me when I’m at dinner, and so do I for him. My coffee-shop cuts up 150lbs. a-meat a-day, chiefly for cabmen. A dinner is 6½d. without beer: meat 4d., bread 1d., vegetables 1d., and waiter ½d.; at least I give him a halfpenny. At ——’s public-house I can dine capitally for 8½d., and that includes a pint of beer. On Sundays there’s a dessert of puddings, and then it’s 1s. A waterman’s berth when it’s one of the best isn’t so good, I fancy, as a privileged cabman’s.”

Suggestions for Regulating the Trade.

I shall now conclude with some statements of sundry evils connected with the cab business, under the old and also under the new system, and shall then offer suggestions for their rectification.

One cab proprietor, after expressing his opinion that the new police arrangements for the regulation of the trade would be a decided improvement, suggested it would be an excellent plan to make policemen of the watermen; for then, he said, the cabmen thieves would be reluctant to approach the ranks. He also gave me the following statement of what he considered would be greater improvements. “I think,” he said, “it would do well for those in the cab-trade if licenses were made 10l. instead of 5l., with a regulation that 5l. should be returned to any one on bringing his plates in previous to leaving the trade, and so not wanting his license any longer. This would, I believe, be a check to any illegal transfer, as men wouldn’t be so ready to hand over their plates to other parties when they disposed of their cabs, if they were sure of 5l. in a regular and legal way. I would also,” he said, “reduce the duty from 10s. a-week to 5s., and that would allow cabs to ply for 6d. a-mile. As everything is cheaper, I wonder people don’t want cheaper cabs. ’Busses don’t at all answer the purpose; for if it’s a wet day, almost every one has to walk some way to his ’bus, and some way to the house he’s going to. Sunday visitors particularly; and they like the wet least of all. Now, if cabs ran at 6d., they could take a man and his wife and two children, and more, two miles for 1s., or four miles for 2s., about what the ’busses would charge four persons for those distances: and the persons could go from door to door as cheap; or, if not quite so cheap, they’d save it in not having their clothes spoiled by the weather, and go far more comfortably than in a ’bus full of wet people and dripping umbrellas. I know most cabmen don’t like to hear of this plan; and why? Because, by the present system they reckon upon getting a shilling a mile; and they almost always do get it for an 8d. fare, and for longer distances oft enough. But it wouldn’t be so easy to overcharge when there’s a fixed coin a-mile for the fare. It would be one, two, three, four, five, or as many sixpences as miles. Now it’s 1s. 4d. for two miles, and that’s 1s. 6d.—1s. 8d. for over two miles, and that means 2s.—of course cabmen don’t carry change unless for an even sum; 2s. 4d. for over three miles and a half, and that’s 2s. 6d. if not 3s., and so on. The odd coppers make cabmen like the present way.”

I now give a statement concerning “foul plates” and informers. It may, however, be necessary to state first, that every cab proprietor must be licensed, at a cost to him of 5l., and that he must affix a plate, with his number, &c., to his cab, to show that he is duly licensed: while every driver and waterman is licensed at a cost to each of 5s. a-year, and is bound to wear a metal ticket showing his number. The law then provides, that in case of unavoidable necessity, which must be proved to the satisfaction of the magistrate, a proprietor may be allowed to employ an unlicensed person for twenty-four hours; with this exception, every unlicensed person acting as driver, and every licensed person lending his license, or permitting any other person to use or wear his ticket, is to be fined 5l. The same provision applies to any proprietor “lending his license,” but with a penalty of 10l. I now give the statement:—

“You see, sir, if a man wants to dispose of his cab, why he must dispose of it as a cab. Well, if it ain’t answered for him, he’ll get somebody or other willing to try it on. And the new hand will say, ‘I’ll give you so much, and work your plates for you;’ and so he does when a bargain’s made. Well, this thing’s gone on till there’s 1000 or 1200 ‘foul plates’ in the trade; and then government says, ‘What a lot of foul plates! There must be a check to this.’ And a nice check they found. Mister —— (continued my informant, laying a peculiar emphasis on the mister), the informer, was set to work, and he soon ferreted out the foul plates, and there was a few summonses about them at first; but it’s managed different now. Suppose I had a foul plate in my place here, though in course I wouldn’t, but suppose I had, Mister —— would drop in some day and look about him, and say little or nothing, but it’s known what he’s up to. In a day or two comes Mister —— No. 2, he’s Mister —— No. 1’s friend; and he’ll look about and say, ‘Oh, Mister ——, I see you’ve got so-and-so—it’s a foul plate. I’ll call on you for 2s. in a day or two.’ He calls sure enough; and he calls for the same money, perhaps, every three months. Some pays him 5s. a-year regular; and if he only gets that on 1000 plates, he makes a good living of it—only 250l. a-year, 5l. a-week, that’s all. In course Mister —— No. 1 has nothing to do with Mister —— No. 2, not he: it’s always Mister —— No. 2 what’s paid, and never Mister —— No. 1. But if Mister —— No. 2 ain’t paid, then Mister —— No. 1 looks in, and lets you know there may be a hearing about the foul plate; and so he goes on.”

This same Mister —— No. 1, I am informed by another cab proprietor, is employed by the Excise to see after the duty, which has to be paid every month. Should the proprietor be behind with the 10s. a-week, the informer is furnished with a warrant for the month’s money; and this he requires a fee of from 10s. to 1l. (according to the circumstances of the proprietor), to hold over for a short time. It is difficult to estimate how many fees are obtained in this way every month; but I am assured that they must amount to something considerable in the course of the year.

It is proper that I should add that my informants in this and other matters refer to the systems with which they had been long familiar. The new regulations when I was engaged in this inquiry, had been so recently in force, that the cab proprietors said they could not yet judge of their effect; but it was believed that they would be beneficial. An experienced man complained to me that the clashing of the magistrates’ decisions, especially when the police were mixed up with the complaints against cabmen, was an evil. My informant also pointed out a clause in the 2d and 3d Victoria, cap. 71, enacting that magistrates should meet once a quarter, each furnishing a report of his proceedings as respects the “Act for regulating the Police Courts in the Metropolis.” Such a meeting, and a comparison of the reports, might tend to a uniformity in decisions; but the clause, I am told, is a dead letter, no such meeting taking place. Another cab proprietor said it would be a great improvement if an authorised officer of the police, or a government officer, had the fixing of plates on carriages, together with the inspection and superintendence of them afterwards. These plates, it was further suggested to me, should be metallic seals, and easily perceptible inside or out. Some of the cab proprietors complain of the stands in Oxford-street (the best in all London, they say), being removed to out-of-the-way places.

Among the matters I heard complained of, that of privileged cabs was much dwelt upon. These are the cabs which are privileged to stand within a railway terminus, waiting to be hired on the arrival of the trains. For this privilege 2s. a-week is paid by the cabmen to some of the railway companies, and as much as 5s. a-week to others. The cabmen complain of this as a monopoly established to their disadvantage, and with no benefit to the public, but merely to the railway companies; for there are cab-stands adjacent to all the railway stations, at which the public would be supplied with conveyances in the ordinary way. The horses in the cabs at the railway stations are, I am informed, amongst the hardest-worked of any in London; the following case being put to me:—“Suppose a man takes a fare of four persons and heavy luggage from the Great Western Terminus to Mile End, which is near upon seven miles, he must then hurry back again all the way, because he plies only at the railway. Now, if he didn’t, he would go to the nighest cab-stand, and his horse would be far sooner relieved. Then, perhaps, he gets another fare to Finsbury, and must hurry back again; and then another below Brompton; and he may live at Whitechapel, and have to go home after all; so that his poor horse gets ‘bashed’ to bits.”

Another cab proprietor furnished me with the following statement in writing of his personal experience and observation concerning the working of the 23d clause in the Hackney Carriage Act, or that concerning the signing before alluded to. “A master is in want of drivers. A, B, and C apply. The only questions asked are, ‘Are you a driver? Where is your license? Well! here, sign this paper; my money is so much.’ In very few large establishments is more caution used as to real character of the driver than this; the effect of which is, that a man with a really good character has no better claim to employment than one of the worst. Then, as to the feeling of a man who has placed himself under such a contract. ‘I must get my money,’ he says, ‘I will do anything to obtain it; and as a gaol hangs over my head, what matters about my breaking the law?’ and so every unfair trick is resorted to: and the means used are ‘gagging,’ that is to say, driving about and loitering in the thoroughfares for jobs. It is known that some men very seldom put on the ranks at all. Some masters have told their drivers not to go on the stand, as they well know that the money is not to be obtained by what is termed ‘ranking it.’ Now, the effect of this is, that the thoroughfares are troubled with empty cabs. It has also this effect: it causes great cruelty and overdriving to the horses; and drivers under such circumstances frequently agree to go for very much less than the fare, and then, as they term it, take it out by insulting and bullying their customers. It may be said that the law in force is sufficient to counteract this; but it may not be known that a great many protection-clubs exist, by contributions from cabmen, and which clubs are, in fact, premiums for breaking the law; for by them a man is borne harmless of the consequences of being fined. Now, these clubs exist sometimes at public-houses, but in many cases in the proprietors’ yards, the proprietors themselves being treasurers, and so becoming agents to induce their servants to infringe the law, for the purpose of obtaining for themselves a large return. The moral consequence of all this is, that men being dealt with and made to suffer as criminals, that is to say, being sent to gaol to experience the same treatment, save indignity, as convicted felons, and all this for what they after all believe to be a debt, a simple contract between man and man; the consequence, I repeat, is, that the driver having served his time, as it is called, in prison, returns to the trade a degraded character and a far worse man. Be it observed, also, that the fact of a driver having been imprisoned is no barrier to his being employed again if he will but sign—that’s the test.”

Account of Crime amongst Cabmen.

I have now but to add a comparative statement of the criminality of the London coach and cabmen in relation to that of other callings.

The metropolitan criminal returns show us that crime among this class has been on the decline since 1840. In that year the number taken into custody by the London police was 1319; from which time until 1843 there was a gradual decrease, when the number of coach and cabmen taken into custody was 820. After this the numbers fluctuated slightly; till, in 1848, there were 972 individuals arrested for various infractions of the law.

For the chief offences given in the police returns, I find, upon taking the average for the last ten years, that the criminality of the London coach and cabmen stands as follows: For murder there has been annually 1 individual in every 29,710 of this body taken into custody; for manslaughter, 1 in every 2829; for rape, 1 in 8488; for common assaults, 1 in 40; for simple larceny, 1 in 92; for wilful damage, 1 in 285; for uttering counterfeit coin, 1 in 612; for drunkenness, 1 in 46; for vagrancy, 1 in 278; for the whole of the offences mentioned in the returns, 1 in every 5 of their number. On comparing these results with the criminality of other classes, we arrive at the following conclusions:—The tendency of the metropolitan coach and cabmen for murder is less than that of the weavers (who appear to have the greatest propensity of all classes to commit this crime), as well as sailors (who are the next criminal in this respect), and labourers, sawyers, and carpenters. On the other hand, however, the coach and cabmen would seem to be more inclined to this species of atrocity than the turners, coachmakers, shoemakers, and tailors; the latter, according to the metropolitan police returns for the last ten years, being the least murderous of all classes. For manslaughter, the coach and cabmen have a stronger predisposition than any other class that I have yet estimated. The average crime in this respect for ten years is 1 in 20,000 individuals of the entire population of London; whereas the average for the same period among the London coach and cabmen has been as high as 1 in every 2800 of their trade. In rape they rank less criminal than the labourers, carpenters, and weavers, but still much higher than the general average, and considerably above the tailors, sawyers, turners, shoemakers, or coachmakers. In the matter of common assaults they stand the highest of all; even the labourers being less pugnacious than they. Their honesty seems, nevertheless, to be greater than common report gives them credit for; they being, according to the same returns, less disposed to commit simple larceny than either labourers, sailors, or weavers, though far more dishonest than the generality of the London population. Nor are they so intemperate as, from the nature of their calling, we should be led to imagine. The sailors (who seem to form the most drunken of all trades, there being 1 in every 13 of that body arrested for this offence), and the labourers (who come next), are both much more addicted to intoxication than the coach and cabmen; although the latter class appear to be nearly twice as intemperate as the rest of the people, the general average being 1 drunkard in every 81 of the entire residents of the metropolis, and 1 in every 46 of the London coach and cabmen. Hence it may be said, that the great vices of the class at present under consideration are a tendency to manslaughter and assault.

The cause of this predisposition to violence against the person on the part of the London coach and cabmen I leave others to explain.