brutalities?) is usually a dark and loathsome
cellar. A slanting board is sometimes placed,
down which the sheep are forced. But very
often there is no such means of descent, and
our poor jaded, footsore, wounded sheep—all
foul and fevered, and no longer fit food for man
—is seized in the half-naked blood-boltered
arms of a fellow in a greasy red nightcap,
and flung down the cellar, both her fore-legs
being broken by the fall. She is instantly
clutched by the ruffians below—dragged to a
broad and dripping bench—flung upon it, on
her back—and then the pallid face and patient
eye looks upward!—and is understood.
And shall not we also—the denizens of a
Christian land—understand it? Shall we not
say—" Yes, poor victim of man's necessities of
food, we know that your death is one of the
means whereby we continue to exist—one
of the means whereby our generations roll
onward in their course to some higher states
of knowledge and civilisation—one of the
means whereby we gain time to fill, to expand,
and to refine the soul, and thus to make it
more fitting for its future abode. But, knowing
this, we yet must recognise in you, a
fellow-creature of the earth, dwelling in our
sight, and often close at our side, and trusting
us—a creature ever harmless, and ever
useful to us, both for food and clothing;
nor do we deserve the good with which you
supply us, nor even the proud name of Man,
if we do not, at the same time, recognise your
rightful claim to our humane considerations.
In the course of last year, there were sold
in Smithfield Market, the enormous number
of two hundred and thirty-six thousand
cattle; and one million, four hundred and
seventeen thousand sheep. A practical
authority has curiously calculated the number
of serious and extensive bruises, caused by
sheer brutality, rather than any accidents, in
the course of a year. He finds that the
amount could not be less than five hundred
and twelve thousand. These are only the
body-bruises, and do not include any of the
various cruelties of blows and cuts on the
nose, hocks, horns, tails, ears, legs, &c. Of
course, this fevered and bruised flesh rapidly
decomposes, and is no longer fit for human
food. The flesh of many an animal out of
Smithfield, killed on Monday, has become
diseased meat by Tuesday evening—a fact too
well known. The loss on bruised meat in the
year has been calculated, by a practical man,
at three shillings a head on every bullock,
and sixpence on every sheep, making a total
loss of Sixty-Three Thousand Pounds per
annum. This loss, it is to be understood,
is independent of the quantity of braised and
diseased meat, which ought to be lost, but is
sold at various markets, as human food. It is
also independent of the numbers of diseased
calves and pigs brought to market every
week, and sold. Very much of this diseased
meat is sold publicly—in Newgate Market,
and Tyler's Market more especially—and at
any rate there is a special and regular trade
carried on in it. One soup establishment, for
the working classes, is said to carry on a
business amounting to between four hundred
and five hundred pounds weekly, in diseased
meat. It is also used by sausage, polony,
and saveloy makers; for meat pies, and a-la-
mode beef shops; and is very extensively by
many of the concocters of preserved meats
for home and foreign consumption. It is said
that one of the Arctic Expeditions failed,
chiefly, in consequence of the preserved meats
failing them. They would not keep. Is it
any wonder that they would not keep? What
they were made of—wholly, or in part—has
been sufficiently shown.
"In Newgate Market," says the writer previously
quoted, " the most disgraceful trade is carried on
in diseased meat; as a proof of which, we assert
that one person has been known to purchase from
one hundred and twenty, to one hundred and thirty
diseased carcases of beasts weekly; and when it is
known that there are from twenty to thirty
persons, at the least, engaged in this nefarious practice
in this market alone, some idea may be formed of
its extent.
"The numbers of diseased sheep from variola
ovina, of small-pox, sent to this market, are alarmingly
on the increase, and it is much to be feared
that this complaint is naturalised among our
English flocks. It is very much propagated in the
metropolis. It is an acknowledged fact that
upwards of one hundred sheep in this state were
weekly, and for a considerable period, consigned
for sale from one owner, who had purchased largely
from abroad, and this took place at the early part
of the present year (1848), and was one of the
causes of the inquiry in Parliament, and the
subsequent act.
"An Inspector is appointed to this market with
full powers, acting under a deputation from the
Lord Mayor; but the duties of the office must be
of a very difficult nature, and probably interfere
materially with the other avocations of the Inspector,
as we find but little evidence of his activity.
Compare our statement above with the return laid
before the Board of Trade, and it will appear that of
fifty diseased carcases not one on an average is seized.
"Close adjoining to Newgate Market, is Tyler's
Market, it is only separated by Warwick Lane.
This market is said to be private property, and
that no Inspector has ever been appointed.
Every description of diseased meat is sold here in
the most undisguised manner: it is celebrated for
diseased pork. It has been stated by a practical
man, one well acquainted with the facts, and fully
capable of forming a correct opinion, that nearly
one half of the pigs sold in this market during
the pork season of 1847, ending March, 1848, was
diseased and unfit for human food; and of all
other diseased animals, what has been said of
Newgate applies with far greater force to this
market. In Leadenhall Market diseased meat is
also sold, though not to the same extent.
Whitechapel Market is situate to the south of the main
or high street bearing the above name. It is
rather difficult to describe the trade carried on
here. The situation of the shops—long, dark, and
narrow, with the slaughterhouses behind—is well
adapted for carrying on the disgraceful practices
Dickens Journals Online