PEOPLE OF FLORENCE STREET
From elegance to decline; from Angel to the Devil's Mile
The early occupants of the Florence Street were quite varied. The 1861 census, the first after Florence Street was created, recorded two architects, a lawyer and a doctor, as well as boot and shoe salesman and a carpet warehouseman. Most numerous by occupation were servants with most houses having at least one. There were also around 80 children living in the street, with an unusual two to one ratio of girls to boys; and the first recorded birth to a Florence Street resident was a girl.
It was also common to have more than one family sharing a house without it being formally divided. In 1861 more than a quarter of the houses were shared and many others had lodgers, who would probably have their own room, unless there were more than one lodger when they might have to share a room.
The pub made a difference to the life of the street. Not long after it opened the problems began. On 23 July 1858 it was reported that "John Miller, a publican from Southwark, entered the Florence Tavern already the worse for drink and after partaking of some more began talking to everyone around him. Some of the parties present did not wish to talk to him, whereupon he most savagely and brutally turned around and, without provocation, struck Matthew Head, a local florist, a heavy blow to the face, thus causing him a large black eye." At least it was thanks to the pub owner that the police were called and could arrest Mr Miller.
In 1862 George Emerson in 'How the Great City Grew' said "There is no more agreeable part of suburban London than Islington". He also said that Islington "was once famous for its cakes as Chelsea was for its nuns… but is now the home of city clerks and well-to-do merchants." This certainly described Florence Street which housed six clerks and seven people involved in merchandising.
It would not be long before the character of the street would change. As the railways began to tempt people to live further away from London and to commute in, so Islington became attractive to those who wanted to live near to central London. As noted by Torrens in 1879 the "Once elegant streets of Islington have deteriorated, taking on a disheartening sign of over-usage."
These changes were also noted in official sources. In the Annual Report of the Health and Sanitary Conditions of St Mary's Islington by the Medical Officer of Health for 1898 it was concluded that: "The duty of the people of Islington was to protect themselves against being invaded by swarms of people from other parts of London… and to keep Islington for the Islingtonians".
In 1885 Henry Vigar-Harris asked his readers to note that "Islington is one of the most important centres of the Metropolis, and yet one of the most debauched the city contains. This is the 'Angel', a name borne by omnibuses and tramcars almost all over London. At the Bank of England, immediately opposite the Mansion House - justly styled the "apex of British philanthropy" - the conductors of public vehicles are continually shouting out to the passers-by 'Angel! Holloway! and Highgate!' From the other side of the Royal Exchange you can, at stated intervals throughout the day, and til past midnight, hear the same din 'Angel! Angel! Angel! Islington!' In the West End, outside our Houses of Parliament, and as far in the South as Victoria Station, Pimlico, you can hear the same ring throughout the live-long day, 'Angel! Angel! Angel!' It appears in conspicuous letters in prominent places, both inside and out our public conveyances, to be read by old and young, rich and poor, weak and strong. One would imagine it was a humane or otherwise philanthropic institution which commended itself to all true Englishmen, instead of a huge public house where the gay and festive congregate in that resplendent "Saloon" facing you.
"Across the way many improvements have recently been made by the Metropolitan Board of Works. They have widened the streets, destroyed some of the slums, and erected model dwellings, for which they have been thanked by some, and abused by others. Yonder is the "Devil's Mile," which extends from here to the "Cock" at Highbury, and along which we will steadily make our way. This is not my title; North Londoners themselves have designated it as such. It is an appropriate name, however, for the devil's imps seem to perambulate through it, both day and night. It's past midnight, and look at these young girls with their besotted countenances. They have been torn from all that is pure and bright; swept, as by an irrepressible torrent, into the sea of vice. Here they are conversing and bartering their lives with men who, twelve hours hence, will walk the same thoroughfare, and say "We're respectable moral and virtuous citizens." Look at that old man with grey hairs, and who seems to be fast descending the hill of life, in company with that cherry-faced, intelligent looking child. Surely a relationship of father and daughter exists between them. May-be they've been to some place of amusement, and are now discussing the best way of returning home. But no: in a few minutes, the man in the evening of his life, and the poor, outcast child, of apparently not more than sixteen summers, are entering an open house. Now, glance at the miserable passengers who crowd this thoroughfare. Look upon these young men who walk with unsteady gait, and with their heads bent low. They are for the most part occupiers of good positions in our houses of business in the City, wherein they will enter in a few hours with disordered minds and seared countenances."
One aspect of this problem was noted by those who attended services at the Unity Chapel who, in 1879, carried out an interesting experiment which was started at the suggestion of a certain Miss Florence Gregg. Many people were upset by the rough behaviour of the youths who thronged the Upper Street on Sunday evenings, so a committee was formed, and meetings started to draw these lads from the attractions of the streets. Invitations were distributed among them, and 70 to 80 youths, aged 14 and over, were gathered in the schoolroom, where books, pictures, and objects of interest were provided, and tea and coffee supplied at "cost price". Those in charge sought by friendly sympathy to encourage and interest the lads, and after service was over in the church, one of the church elders, Mr. Freckelton, would have a talk with them. Apparently "much patient firmness and kindness became necessary to maintain order".