British
imperial servants serving in the distant scattered territories of the empire
must have been avid for even the most trivial scraps of gossip about life back
in London. News that merited only cursory mention or at most a few lines in the
British newspapers might find itself extensively reported in the Straits Times
of Singapore or the Hawera & Normanby Star of New Zealand. The death of Luigi Fraulo, honorifically
either King of Clerkenwell’s Little Italy or the King of Ice Cream, depending
on which newspaper you read, was an example of the sort of story which seemed
to interest the consumers of news in the provinces or the colonies more than
your genuine jaded Londoner. The capital’s
newspapers confined to a one line notice of his death and a brief paragraph on
his interment, noting that the “funeral took place this afternoon of Luigi
Fraulo, the Italian ice-cream king. The cortege passed along Oxford-street, and
the hearse was entirely covered with flowers. Between forty and fifty carriages
followed containing compatriots of the deceased.” The Straits Times on the
other hand published what amounted to a full obituary.
According to the Straits Times Luigi was from
Ravello in southern Italy and was 21 when he emigrated to London. He arrived in
Clerkenwell with a single £10 note (the proceeds of selling his Italian wine
business) and died at the age of 57 leaving an estate valued at over £15,000.
His £10 note was used to hire himself a barrow and set himself up as an ice
cream man. He was a good salesman and his carefully husbanded profits were
enough to eventually allow him to launch a new business as a supplier of raw
materials to the ice cream producers. Opportunities to expand were limited
however by an expensive crucial ingredient – ice. In those pre-refrigeration
days ice had to be imported from Scandinavia and the ice business was
controlled by a cartel of ice merchants who kept supplies limited and prices
high. Luigi had enough capital to risk chartering a ship and importing ice on
his own account. Initially his customers were his compatriots in the gelato business
but as he seriously undercut his competitor’s prices he soon found himself
importing vast quantities of ice from Norway and supplying the hotel and club
trade. He became wealthy and influential and, according to the Straits Times,
something of a padrone to the London Italian community: “a good number of the
tradesmen in ‘Little Italy’ owed their start in business to him. Every
compatriot in trouble or difficulty appealed to him and never in vain. He was
always ready with sound advice and practical aid. He acted as arbitrator in
family and business disputes, he transacted the legal business of ‘Little
Italy,’ he helped everyone, and the neighbourhood is nearly inconsolable in its
loss.”
If
the Straits Times is correct and he was 21 when he emigrated then he arrived in
England around 1878. He appears in the 1881 census living at 28 Eyre Street
Hill in the household of Panteleone Manzi, general merchant, along with his
brother Salvatore. By the time of the 1891 census, when he was 33, he was head
of household and recently married to Annie, who was 10 years younger than him,
and they already had their first child Salvatore. Luigi’s mother Eugene was
living with them along with Salvatore and a couple of cousins who helped out in
the business. The family were living at 8 Eyre Street Hill, the Clerkenwell
Street that is a continuation of Leather Lane on the far side of the
Clerkenwell Road; Luigi was still living here when he died in 1914. Luigi went
on to have 9 children; Salvatore, Alfonso, Luigi, Maria, Pantaleoni, Anna,
Rosario, Margherita and Giuseppina. Luigi’s brother Salvatore seems to have
been his constant companion, never married and always lived with him at Eyre
Street Hill.
Ice cream vendor in Italian village costume |
The
image of Salvatore as a respectable father and family man is slightly tarnished
when you look at the way he is reflected in the stories published in the London
newspapers during his lifetime. In August 1887 the Islington Gazette, under the
headline ‘ITALIANS IN DISPUTE’ reported that the 31 year old Luigi found
himself in Clerkenwell County Court being sued for £8 8s by one Eugenie Borro
of Fleet Row , Eyre Street Hill. Borro was an employee of Luigi’s who claimed
he was owed the money as back pay. He claimed to have left his employment in
Luigi’s business and gone to Paris but had come back at his boss’s request and
under the inducement of an increase in his wages to £1 10s a week. Luigi denied begging Borro to come back to
his old job or offering him an increase in wages. He told Judge Eddis that in
fact he taken him on again out of compassion and had been forced to sack him
when he refused to do his work. The Judge awarded £4 to Borro, reflecting his
old rate of pay, but deducting 12 shillings that Luigi had lent him. In February 1892 Luigi found himself in the dock
for a crime assured to outrage English sensibilities – maltreatment of a horse.
The Islington Gazette once again:
A VETERINARIAN
SEVERELY CENSURED. At the Guildhail Police Court, Baseliga Amonda, 31, Eyre
Street Hill, Clerkenwell, carman, was charged with cruelly working horse while
lame. —Luigi Fraulo, provision merchant, of the same address, was brought up
for causing the horse to be so worked —Mr. Savournin, veterinary surgeon,
stated that the sores on the animal were very bad, and had not been attended
to. —Mr. J. Baxter, M.R.C.V.S., was called for the defence, and stated that the
horse was fit to work in its present condition.—Alderman Renals: I know
something about horses; but I never hear d such a statement from a veterinary
surgeon. I shall fine you, Amonda, 40s for taking the horse out, and the owner
£5 and costs, or a month, and if comes here again will assuredly go to prison.
I wish to say that, as long as I sit on this bench, I hope I shall not hear
such evidence as one veterinary surgeon has given. It is a disgrace to the
profession.
In
January 1894 21 year Giovanni Agabba appeared at the Old Bailey accused of feloniously
wounding Brassi Lutschia with intent to do him grievous bodily harm. Luigi, who
wasn’t even called as a witness, was mentioned frequently during the trial.
Agabba was accused of slashing Lutschia across the arm with a razor during a quarrel
involving up to 15 drunk people outside Mr Prole’s shop on Eyre Street Hill. Almost
all of the Italian witnesses, and the defendant, had to have their evidence interpreted
for the court. Many of the witnesses said
Lutschia was a ’bad character’ and
seemed to sympathetic to the young razor wielding hooligan on trial. Lutschia,
who was an ice cream vendor, had a hard time in the witness box despite being
the injured party. Although the
questions he was responding to are not given in the official record of the
trial it is quite clear from Lutschia’s answers what the defending barrister was
trying to imply about his character and his relationship with Luigi: “I do not
carry a knife or a razor—the razor which the prisoner used was not taken out of
my pocket—I have never been accused of stabbing a man—I have got no money, and
never paid any to settle out of Court three charges of stabbing—my friends have
only paid money for me once when I was accused of stabbing, and I was charged
innocently—I was bound over to keep the peace for six months—Fraulo, who was
with me before it began, has not paid money to prevent my being prosecuted—he
is at his house now—it is not true that the prisoner's brother and I were
quarrelling and fighting with knives.” Sadly Luigi did not appear as a witness.
Agabba was found guilty by the jury but with a recommendation for mercy to the
judge. He was given three months hard labour.
Luigi
was back in court in May 1901 but this time he was the plaintiff. The Islington
Gazette, loudly proclaiming ITALIANS SEEK LITIGATION, reported that he was suing
Thomas Falco, a boot maker of Clerkenwell Close, for £23 9s owed for rent and
provisions supplied since 1891. Falco counterclaimed for £34 saying that Luigi
owed him 30 shillings a week for 6 years for repairing horse harnesses. Falco
called a large number of witnesses (all of whom required interpreters) to back
his story. Luigi called one William Downs, a saddler and harness maker, (and who
presumably did not require an interpreter to give his evidence) to testify that
he had been carrying out harness repairs on behalf of the plaintiff since 1890.
The judge was not impressed by Falco’s
witnesses and found for Luigi, ordering Falco to pay £1 a month until the dent
was cleared.
Harvesting ice for the frost trade |
Luigi’s
final brush with the law came in February 1909 and was reported in the Evening
Standard. Bedesta Toguolini boot and shoe maker of Mount Pleasant, Clerkenwell
sued Luigi for £50 damages for alleged breach of covenant for quiet enjoyment
of his rented premises. The paper explained that:
Mrs. Tuguolini
and her husband were formerly tenants of a house in Mount Pleasant, of which the defendant was the
landlord. When the premises adjoining were let as a club they could never get
any sleep Saturday and Sunday nights. Piano playing and dancing went on till six
o’clock in the morning. Gambling was also carried on there and the witness
spoke to other causes of complaint. Screams of ‘murder’ were sometimes to be heard,
and on one occasion after a row the witness picked up the razor produced. Another witness said that on Sunday
afternoons the people attending the club used to amuse themselves in the yard.
It seemed to be an over flow meeting (laughter). The dancing was downstairs and
the upstairs room was Monte Carlo. A police-sergeant’s evidence showed that
there was a considerable amount of drunkenness amongst the girls frequenting
the club as well as among the men.
Luigi
denied that any ‘disgraceful behaviour’ went on at the club but the judge was
having none of it. Neither was he having any nonsense about a £50 claim for
damages – he awarded the plaintiff £15 from which he deducted Luigi’s £10
counter claim for rent arrears. The Tuguolini’s probably didn’t blow their £5
compensation down at the Italian social club.
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